#like don’t get me wrong I’m sure there are assholes on the set. it’s still hollywood

[babygorewhore]

Home Care

Dr. Charlie Mayhew x fem reader.

Charlie Mayhew has to stay over to make sure his patient stays safe. But he’s unable to contain his desire after learning how men have treated you.

This is written for my love @cxrrodedcoffin I hope you enjoy my darling!!! Thank you so much to @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me out with this love letter!!!!

Warnings! Obsessive behavior! Slight stalking! Oral! Fem receiving! Finger sucking! Bondage! Spitting! Fingering! Spanking! Degrading! Praise! Unprotected sex! Bulge! Rough (?) sex! Incorrect medical terms because I’m not in that field lol.

“I’m not thrilled about being stuck here with you either.” Charlie told you as you examined your nails.

The Doctor leaned against the wall as he watched you. He was giving your sick grandfather overnight care. He admitted to himself that he used to be an asshole in high school. Making fun of you for going into the family inherited business. A mortician.

Charlie just wanted your attention. He always wanted your eyes on him. That’s why he posted pictures of himself at the gym despite his filled schedule. Being a Doctor gave him the opportunity to save lives. Yet, he couldn’t save himself from his obsession with you.

Your apartment had elements of the Macabre and pieces of the world you honored with work. But you still had a brightness to your smile. It wasn’t innocence, you’d had some experience in the dating world.

You always took care of others. A little angel sent above. You didn’t fully forgive him for the past and he didn’t blame you. He worried he’d scare you off if you saw the darkness in him.

Charlie sometimes followed you home. Just because he had to make sure you were safe. Coming into your bedroom while you slept was taking it a bit far a few weeks ago but he just had to see you. Charlie tried to act as if he didn’t know where anything was when he came in.

Your thighs were exposed, the pajama shorts hugging the curves of your hips and the soft shirt exposed the lower part of your stomach. Charlie swallowed, moistening his dry mouth and neared you. He removed his uniform coat. So he’d look like a normal man.

Your fingers tapped away at your screen, indicating that you were texting someone. Angrily.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned. He half expected you to ignore him but instead you sighed.

“I’m sick of this guy. He treats me like shit. I’m telling him off.”

Charlie’s hackles raised at your answer. “How’s he treating you like shit?”

“Guys only care about getting off and leaving. I put up with it too long. But I was lonely.” You rolled your eyes and he blinked rapidly.

“You mean, he just…fucked you and left?” Charlie bit out the sentence, unable to hide the jealousy and you shrugged. “Did he even make you cum?”

His bold words made you sit up straight but he didn’t take them back. You snorted and set your phone down. You crossed your ankles together.

“Nope. Men just want to stick it in and get theirs.”

Charlie’s jaw clenched and he trembled. He adjusted the stethoscope hanging on his neck. “No. Men don’t. Little boys do.”

You rolled your eyes and applied chapstick. You moved your lips and set it back down. “What would you know about that? If you weren’t in college, you were working. Or being a dick.”

“You think I don’t care about making a girl feel good?” He breathed heavily as you positioned yourself further in the chair. Your hands providing balance in the middle and your fingers spread.

“I mean you’re good at your job. But women? Not so much.” Your blatant disregard and ignorance to his activities made him feel crazy.

“You realize I have a in depth knowledge of the human body. I know where to touch. How much pressure to use and how long.” Charlie tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he reached down. Cupping your chin. His thumb swiped your mouth and you parted them.

You sucked his digit, tongue rolling around and he snapped. Charlie hauled you off the chair, tossing you on the plush mattress.

“All those fucking weeks watching you. Trying to keep myself under control,” He groaned as you parted your legs, letting him settle between them. He felt the dampness in your center on his stomach.

“You were stalking me?” You shrieked but a small smirk curved. Charlie snarled and tapped your cheek.

“Open your mouth.” You did, instinctively letting your tongue slightly stick out and he let drool fall past his lips. “God, you’re already obeying me? Like a good little patient?”

Charlie sat up, taking off his shirt and his muscular form highlighted by the LED lights. You looked up at him with half lidded eyes as he took your hand, bringing your fingers to his mouth. Charlie sucked them softly, letting his other palm knead your chest. You arched your back as your pussy fluttered.

His thighs caged you in and he let go of your hand. Your fingers fell out of his mouth and Charlie unfastened his belt. You inhaled sharply as he tied it around your wrists, pinning them to the headboard of the bed.

“You’re gonna lay there and take it. That sweet little cunt is gonna leak from how good this will feel.”

A sinister darkness flickered in his eyes as you mewled at his words. Charlie tugged off your shorts, thick digits snapping the waistband of your panties and he peeled them off. He admired the lace of the fabric and was mesmerized by the sticky middle.

You were so turned on that it hurt. Charlie shoved his pants down, chuckling at the eager sounds you made. His cock slapped his inner thigh. He lowered himself down, his stomach hitting the bed and cupped your ass.

He smelled your scent, his nose nudging your center and groaned. “Selfish little angel. Keeping this pussy from me. Knowing I won’t be able to get enough.”

Charlie laid his tongue flat against your slit, grunting at the taste and he focused kitten licking your clit. His motions were firm and you whimpered. His hold kept you from moving too much, even laying his forearm across your pelvis. He spread your folds apart, exposing more sensitive areas and plunged his tongue inside your needy hole.

You were on fire, jerking from pleasure and Charlie’s dick throbbed. His other hand drifted to find the discarded panties and wrapped them around his shaft. Lazily pumping because he was solely focused on the pretty girl underneath him.

He sucked your clit, gently nipping it and returned to leisurely slurping like an ice cream cone. The heels of your feet dug into his shoulders and he nodded. “Mmm, needed this didn’t you, baby doll? That why you’re so tense all the time?”

You shuddered as he pressed two fingers in you, hitting an even deeper spot and you were almost hysterical. Charlie wanted to make you cum right then and there but he forced himself to hold off for now. He continued finger fucking you and lifted up. Meeting your lips in a messy kiss, making you share the wetness coating his mouth and chin.

Charlie kissed you hard, making your vision go white and ripped himself away. He growled and took hold of his dick. His red tip running against your clit, smearing the arousal and a sadistic pleasure burned him. He loved seeing you whine and cry.

“You want it? Beg.”

“Please fuck me! Please, please, please!” You cried out and he clicked his tongue in ridicule.

“Oh come on, sweetheart. You can do better. That slutty mouth can beg harder than that.” Charlie laughed as you let out chants similar to a prayer.

He slammed into balls deep and you silently went slack for a few seconds. His size was huge and overwhelming despite the prep. You panted and shook your head.

“It’s not gonna fit all the way-“ You said tightly but Charlie jerked his jaw.

“We’re not playing that game. You wanna play dumb and pretend you don’t like how much it hurts? But I’ll fucking make it fit,” He flipped you over on your knees, twisting your arms so your still tied wrists weren’t straining.

Charlie shoved your chest down, slapping your ass so hard it echoed. He pressed into your pussy again, letting his big hands hold your hips as he thrusted into you.

You sounded fucking filthy. Moaning, sobbing and sweating against the pillow as he railed into you. You curled inwards as your orgasm approached you but he shook his head.

“Where you going?” Charlie spanked you harder and separated your ass. He thrusted deeper and felt your slick dripping on his cock.

“Oh god, fuck! F-fuck!” You exclaimed and wailed. He grabbed the back of your hair, yanking you back and caught your lips.

Charlie sucked your pulse point as you bounced on it, laying your head back as you creamed on his dick.

“Bouncing on my cock like the dirty whore you are. You gonna let me fill you up? You want me to cum in your greedy pussy?” He asked in your ear and you moved faster.

Charlie squeezed your tits and let his hand fall to your stomach. He felt the bulge and spilled inside you. Cum burst in your cunt and your second release hit you. You both grunted and you felt tears streaming down your face.

He saw you weren’t going to slow down and twitched from overstimulation. Charlie pulled out, feeling your fluids fall onto the sheets and brought his face back to your pussy.

“You’re gonna let me eat it out of you, huh? God you’re so disgusting.” He followed his statement with shoving his face against you. You had to bite down on your arm to keep from screaming but he wasn’t happy with that.

“No, no, you wanna scream? Then do it.” Charlie ordered. “Or am I gonna have to fuck it out of you again?”

Tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @cxrrodedcoffin @userchai @stillwjk-channie-lixie @fear-is-truth @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @cameronsprincess @oceanblvd111 @titsout4nicholas @webbluvrsugar @glossyseraphim

[starkwlkr]

“he’s here!” | logan howlett

an: this is inspired by the scene in x-men 97 where jean tells logan “he’s here!” because she’s in labor and logan’s all like “who? apocalypse?” and whips out his claws expecting to fight and jean just yells at him “the baby!” omg my favorite scene lol

mutant!reader (telekinesis baby!!!!)

It was a quiet normal day in the mansion. Rogue was helping you set up the finishing touches to the baby’s nursery. With a wave of your hand, you assembled the last shelf where Rogue placed a the ultrasound pictures.

“So you still don’t have a name for the baby?” Rogue asked. Every day it was the same question, all she wanted was to know the name. It was a secret for everyone.

“We do, Rogue, we just agreed to reveal it after the birth. You’ll find out soon, everyone will.” You said, walking towards the door of the nursery. You took one last look at the room and sighed. In a few days, your son would be sleeping in that same room.

“Oh! I forgot to show you something! Bobby and I went to the mall the other day and I found the cutest outfit for the baby. I’ll go get it.” Rogue said excitedly. She rushed out the nursery towards her room.

“I’ll be in the kitchen!” You called out. Being pregnant was exhausting. At the moment, you were craving fruit so you walked slowly to the kitchen. Everything was hurting lately, but you didn’t think much of it. You still had a week left until your baby boy was born.

When you finally made it to the kitchen, you found Logan drinking a beer that he had snuck in. “I thought I told you to stay in bed.” Logan stood up from his chair and walked over to you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sick of staying in bed all day. I needed to move. Rogue was helping me finish up the nursery,” As soon as you said nursery, he was about to start scolding you. “I barely lifted a finger! She was moving everything, I just told her what to do.” You half lied.

“Sure, if that helps you sleep at night, baby.” Logan chucked.

You playfully hit his arm then walked to the refrigerator in search of a container of fruit that Logan had cut up for you. You found it with a note attached that said ‘baby howlett’s mom’. You smiled at the note. As you pulled it out of the refrigerator, you felt a sharp pain. It caused you to let go of the container, the contents of it spilling everywhere on the kitchen floor.

Logan rushed over to you quickly. “What’s wrong? Where is it hurting?”

“Logan . . .” You groaned. “He’s here!”

Immediately Logan’s claws came out. “Who? Magneto?” He looked around the kitchen frantically in search of the possible threat. “Stryker? Show yourself, you son of a bitch!” He yelled.

You couldn’t believe it. Did he suddenly forget you were pregnant? Maybe it was the beer finally getting to him. . .

You groaned once more as the pain struck again. “The baby!” You screamed. You waved your hand, his jacket and keys were thrown at him.

Logan’s eyes widened when he heard those words. He was about to become a father. “Oh crap.”

“Take me to the hospital, you asshole!”

After quickly finishing his beer in one sip, he helped you down the stairs. You couldn’t stand the pain. Each time you felt pain, objects around you would break. As you were walking towards the main entrance, you passed by a coffee table with a vase on it.

“Ah! Fuck!” You winced as a contraction hit you hard. The vase exploded as a result. “Shit!”

“It’s okay, Charles hated that vase anyways!” Logan assured you. In reality, the vase was a gift that was in his family for years. Maybe Charles wouldn’t notice.

“Logan!” The couple heard Rogue yell out. “I’m coming with you!”

Before Logan could protest, you scream once more causing several objects in the living room to break like tables and chairs. Even the TV screen had exploded. You didn’t mean to do that.

“Just help me get her into the car.” Logan instructed Rogue, who quickly ran to your side and helped you down the steps of the mansion.

“I really really hate you right now.” You said to Logan.

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

[kyunzin]

Hii could you do jealousy nsfw hcs for kaiser aiku and sae with fem reader? Thank you if you do

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞

characters; 𝐊. 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐀. 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐈. 𝐒𝐚𝐞

cw; them being jealous (f!reader)

tags; nsfw, public sex, shower sex, marking, wall sex, creampie

a/n; sorry this took so long

𝐊. 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥

✰ anyone, especially his teammates, acting too friendly with you can set him off.

✰ he doesn’t say anything in the moment but you know something’s wrong when he goes quiet and slips a possessive arm around you.

✰ it’s only a matter of time before he’s taking the two of you away from the scene leaving everyone confused at your sudden retreat.

✰ he doesn’t take you home but brings you back to the boys locker room and corners you.

✰ “you didn’t know what they we’re doing, don’t lie to me”

✰ even when you deny he still isn’t satisfied lifting you by the back of your thighs and bringing you to the showers.

✰ he fucks you in the showers not bothering to contain your sounds slapping his pelvis against your ass the wetness from the running shower creating unmistakable sounds of your cunt being pounded.

✰ “scream louder. make sure they know who’s fucking you”

✰ once the both of you finally finish you get dressed but he makes you put on one of his jerseys bringing you back out to everybody.

✰ there’s no doubt that they heard you, from the way their cheeks are rosy and how they have their head down in shame.

✰ you however stay quiet slightly leaning into him with a slight limp as you walk around with him head held down.

✰ he walks with a proud smirk on his face head held high rejoining conversations as if he wasn’t balls deep inside of you mere seconds earlier.

𝐀. 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

✰ sees some guy trying to approach you in the stands, even when you decline he still trues to push himself onto you so you move away and find a better seat.

✰ he plays the rest of the game with a newfound agression that scores him 2 goals.

✰ after the match he finds you quicky telling the security about the guy before taking you you back home.

✰ you barely make it back to the bedroom before he’s hastily striping you of you clothes and fucking you against the wall.

✰ kissing dark bruises all over your neck and back, firm grip on your hips as he leaves a few bite marks along the side of your throat.

✰ “maybe if I leave enough marks they’ll leave ya alone”

✰ the both of you cum once like that and he still has enough resolve to carry you to the bedroom where he focuses his attention on the front of your body.

✰ leaving love bites up along the inside of your thighs before eating you out hungrily, nipping the side of your thigh when you try to push him away adding to his litter of marks.

✰ once he’s made you cum on his tongue and fingers he crawls over you and adds more marks up your chest and neck while slowly fucking you only stopping when your covered with his marks.

✰ “anyone who tries to do anything after seeing this is fucking stupid”

✰ he takes a photo of the two of you, all the marks on you neck on display and captions it ‘property of oliver aiku’.

✰ the next game he takes you to he makes you wear a short skirt and a v neck crop top showing of the dozen of marks he left daring you to try and cover them up.

✰ needless to say nobody bothers you that game or any others, they know that he’s claimed you as his.

𝐈. 𝐒𝐚𝐞

✰ it’s the same as oliver however instead of being harassed in public people are making comments about your relationship online.

✰ ‘I can treat you better’, ‘bet I could make you feel better than he does’, ‘I’ll show you how a real man treats a woman’

✰ people only see what the two of you are like outside, how he keeps an almost professional distance from you and create speculations in their head.

✰ once he’s had enough of all their delusions he decides to take out his frustrations on you, not that you mind.

✰ “think those assholes will treat you better than I can baby? i’m the only one good enough for you”

✰ after a match he makes sure to pull you into a heated kiss whil e all the cameras focus on you the crowd and his teammates whistling loudly.

✰ it gets posted everywhere and all the comments stopped except a few brave unnamed commenters who still feel they could do better than him and it doesn’t quell his jealousy.

✰ straight after the game he takes you home roughly fucking you into the mattress, bullying your pussy with his girthy cock, pushing your head down into the sheets.

✰ “do I not fuck you good enough, what more should a whore like you need”

✰ he fucks you multiple times that night the bed under you soaked with your mixed cum

✰ your left with your legs trembling, throat sore from screaming and your cunt well fucked and stuffed with his cum

✰ after that he doesn’t worry about the comments because he knows he’s the only one that can fuck you this good

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[innerfare]

Blue Balls - Eustass Kid: Part 2 

Summary: Captain Kid takes care of his blue balls; text below the cut. If you haven't already, read Part 1 here!

Pairing: Eustass Kid x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: penetrative sex, dom Kid, sex on the deck of the Victoria Punk

Word Count: 1,591

For a moment, Kid stood there in the alleyway with his dick in his hands- quite literally. His cock and balls throbbed, ached like he hadn’t fucked you in weeks despite you two having had sex two days ago. Of course, two days was a very long time for the two of you, and Kid had to wonder if that was part of your plan. 

He stuffed his cock back into his pants and zipped them up. He gritted his teeth, thinking he could kill a man as he took off after you, the chore of running made so much more difficult by his heavy balls. As he ran, he thought of all the ways he was going to fuck you, all the ways he was going to have you crying beneath him, begging for the release you had denied him. 

The edges of his vision were red and blurry, and he had so much pent up energy he knew he’s start a fight with anyone who stepped between him and the Victoria Punk. Luckily, nobody did, and he caught up to you on the deck of the ship. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and swung you around, grinning as you screamed. You wiggled in his grasp and kicked your feet in an attempt to get away, but he didn’t loosen his grip for even a second, knowing damn well you would take off again and leave him to deal with his problem himself.  

“Kid, put me down.” 

He refused, holding you off the ground with ease.  

“You didn’t actually think you could outrun me, did you, spider?” 

“I thought I could at least find a hiding place before you caught up to me,” you admitted, still struggling to break free. Your chest heaved from the run to the ship. 

His chest heaved, too, his heart hammering not just from sprinting the distance from the alleyway to the ship but also from the hormones working their way through his body. The pressure between his legs was almost painful. “I can’t believe you just made me run half a mile with a fucking erection.” 

“I’m sorry, Captain.” You didn’t sound very sorry. “Let’s go back to your cabin, and I’ll make it up to you.” 

“Fuck that.” He set you back on your feet but kept his vice grip on you, holding your back flush against his bare abdomen. “You wanna play games, I’ll play games.” 

“Kid-” 

“I’m gonna fuck you right here on deck,” he growled in your ear, “and if the crew gets back, they’re gonna watch.” 

Your eyes widened. “Kid!” 

He clamped his hand over your mouth and pressed his erection into your lower back. 

“What’s wrong, spider? Don’t want them to see you get fucked like a little whore? As if they don’t already know the nasty things I do to you every night. I’m sure they’ve gotten off to the sound of your moans before. Please, daddy, cum balls deep inside me,” he mocked.  

You wanted to call him an asshole.  

Instead, you whimpered. “Kid, we can’t do this on deck.” 

“Of course we can.” He yanked your shirt up, relinquishing his grip on you only as long as it took to pull the garment over your head, exposing your breasts in the night. He squeezed one of your breasts and let out a low sigh of relief. He pressed his erection into you harder and groaned. “We can do whatever we want.” 

“Kid-” 

“It’s my ship,” he interrupted. “I’m the Captain. You’re not gonna tell me what I can and can’t do on my ship. Now, how about you do something with that pretty little mouth that doesn’t involve lying or complaining.” Keeping his metal arm wrapped tight around your midsection, he shoved his fingers into your mouth. “When you told me you weren’t in the mood last night, and again this morning, was that part of your little plan?” He rutted into you when he thought of the morning wood he’d woken up with. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, thinking you can tease me. I’m in charge, remember?” 

You tried to say something but only moans spilled out of your mouth as he fucked it with his fingers, saliva running down your chin. With your breasts exposed, your nipples erect from the chilly night air, Kid’s threat of the crew coming back and catching you in such a vulnerable, compromising position seemed all too real. And it only made you wetter. 

You tried grinding against his erection, but the height difference made it such that you could only hump his thigh, not that you minded. Kid had the best thighs, thick and muscular, and he let you get yourself off on them all the time. But that night, he pulled away. 

“You’re not off the hook just yet.” He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, but the break lasted only a few seconds, because then he was shoving his hand between your legs and getting a feel for the wetness you had denied him back in the alleyway. “For fuck’s sake, you’re creaming. But I guess it’s easy for you to play games since you don’t have to deal with fucking blue balls.” 

“It’s not easy,” you whined, hands latching onto his forearm. “I was just playing around a little bit.” 

Kid stroked your wet folds, but just as he pushed a dinger into your leaking hole, he felt the rubber band in his belly start to snap and pulled back to keep from cumming. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” His blood pressure was through the roof, and he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of him cumming before he even got his cock in you. 

“Do what? Tease me?” You couldn’t keep from smiling, knowing full well he was right at the edge and couldn’t drag things out the way you could. “I’m sure you can manage, daddy.” 

With a growl, he spun you around and picked you up, pushing you into the mast. He held you easily in his metal arm, the hand digging into your skin in case you got any ideas. “I was gonna be nice and finger you first, but I guess you’re just gonna have to take daddy’s big cock without any prep. You can manage, can’t you?” 

He pulled his throbbing cock out of his pants for the second time that night and lined it up with your entrance, not even bothering to discard your skirt. 

“Of course I can- fuck.” You bit down on his shoulder to keep from crying out as he pushed his cock all the way into you. The length was a lot to take, but it was the width that made your eyes sting with tears. But you refused to tap out, digging your nails into his back and crying out but taking what he gave you. 

“I think you owe me an apology.” He pulled all the way out and pushed back in, his breathing shallow from the effort it took not to cum right then. His balls were throbbing so hard he thought they might fall off, but he was determined to get that smugness out of your system. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but as you did, he began thrusting regularly. He fucked in and out of you, the pronounced head of his cock coming to your entrance with each pull and then kissing your cervix with each push, Kid’s hips snapping against mercilessly yours. 

“Say it, or I’ll tie you naked to the mast for the crew to find.” 

“Kid.” You cried into his shoulder, thoughts completely scattered from him fucking you. 

“What was that?” 

“Daddy. Daddy.” You held onto him like your life depended on it, not even noticing the way his metal arm cut into your skin, undoubtedly leaving scrapes and bruises for you to find in the morning. Checking yourself for marks the mooring after was one of your favorite parts of being with Captain Kid, though.  

“You owe daddy an apology,” he grunted in your ear. 

“I’m… s-s-sorry.” 

“What was that?” 

“I s-s-said…” It was all you could do to hold on tight as he pounded into you. The amount of slickness between your legs would have been humiliating had you had the wherewithal to feel embarrassed. But he had fucked you dumb, and in under five minutes. “I’m… s-sorry.” 

“Not good enough.” 

“I’m sorry, daddy.” The tension between your legs reached its peak, and your orgasm washed over you. You clenched painfully hard on his cock, but Kid didn’t relent, not even for a second. In fact, he began fucking you harder and sloppier. 

“You wanna act like a little whore, you’re gonna get fucked like a little whore.” He wrapped his fingers around your pretty throat and squeezed. “What do you think the crew would say if they saw this? Do you think they’d feel bad for you? I bet they’d be able to tell how much you’re enjoying it.” With that, the rubber band in his belly snapped, and he reached his climax. He thrust into you a few more times, pushing his hot load as deep as he could get it, pleased to know it would be seeping out of you for the rest of the night. 

“I’m sorry I teased you,” you panted, placing a hand on his cheek. “But I can’t promise it won’t happen again if that’s the punishment.” 

Kid grinned and kissed you. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[xoxoladyaz]

locked in lowercase (inside a vault)

For @steddie-week Day 3: Longing (1,032 words)

Tags: Mutual Pining, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Light Angst, Hopeful Ending

“Eddie, man. I think you should talk to him.”

Eddie snorts. “Oh, really? What’s with the sudden change of heart, Emerson? That desperate to knock me down a peg?”

“Dude,” Gareth sighs, and the defenses he’d so easily garnered up fall just a little. “Look, I know I wasn’t all that thrilled about Harrington in the first place – ”

“Oh, that’s the understatement of the fucking century, Gare-bear - ”

“ – but,” Gareth ignores Eddie’s attempts at cutting him off, “that was before I saw how miserable you are without him. Like, dude. We made it. We’re on tour right now, and all you wanna do when we’re not on stage is sit on the bus and play Patsy Cline. You,” Gareth taps Eddie on the chest, “you should be having the time of your fucking life right now, but it’s like you’re not really here with us, man.”

Eddie lets Gareth’s words sink in for a moment. The kid’s not wrong, of course, but he doesn’t get it. He can’t. Eddie barely has the words to describe how the feelings started or what his feelings even are, but any time he bumps into anyone that has that look in their eye, that whole I wanna take an up-and-coming rock star for a ride shine, Eddie turns tail and practically runs the other way. It’s not to say that he hasn’t tried – oh, he tried, especially in those first few cities after first leaving Indiana – but it either didn’t happen or it didn’t end well for either party and eventually he just stopped trying. 

Because none of them were Steve. 

And the worst part is, it’s fucking hopeless. The King never, ever gave Eddie even the slightest inclination that it wasn’t just “babes” for him. (Although, to be fair to Steve, Eddie himself didn’t really know until he was too far away to do anything about it, and that’s assuming Eddie’s balls got big enough to even fucking try something.) Steve was kind to Eddie, sure; hell, he was even calling Harrington his best friend at the end, before they left for tour. But then Eddie started wanting and, even worse, started knowing that he wanted any eyes that looked at him in pleasure to be big and brown and belong to Steve and – well, he hasn’t been playing on this side of the field for long, but even a newbie like him knows just how this is going to play out. 

(Which translates to: he slowly stops calling Steve until he isn’t calling him at all. He takes “Head Over Heels” off the set list. He puts the swim team sweater he stole from Steve’s closet at the bottom of the “extra clothes” pile in the back of the bus. And instead of going out after every show, instead of trying and failing to find some peace in the bottom of a bottle like his dad, he sits in the tour bus and plays Patsy Cline on his acoustic under his fingers bleed.)

“It’ll only make things worse, Gare,” Eddie replies, fishing aimlessly in his pockets for the last of his Camels. “I’ll get over it. Eventually.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you will, but he won’t.”

Eddie’s fingers still in his pocket. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me. You don’t think Robin chews my head off every time I call to check in?”

(It’s just Eddie’s luck, of course, that Gareth’s first-cousin-and-childhood-best-friend happens to be Steve’s other half.)

“Then why don’t you stop calling?” Eddie finally finds a cig and pulls it out of his pocket, only for it to get snatched out of his fingers.

“Because I’m not an asshole, asshole,” Gareth snaps. “And I’m getting really sick and tired of getting yelled at every time I call home because somebody refuses to man up and deal with his feelings.”

Eddie turns in place, glaring at Gareth. “I am dealing with my feelings!”

“By not dealing with them, dumbass! And for the record, you’re making it even more noticeable by notdealing with them! Hell, even Byers asked me about it the last time he called, because why else would you just drop Harrington all together? It’s been like a year, man, you have to deal with this at some point.”

“I – I didn’t know until a month and a half ago, Gareth, what the hell do you mean by the last year?”

Gareth snorts. “Seriously? Seriously. Holy shit, you’re serious. Fucking – really, man? Now I owe Jeff money.”

“GARETH!” Eddie snaps. “What do you mean, the last year?”

Something is on Eddie’s face, some expression that he can’t control, because Gareth’s eyes soften and grow sad. “Eds, man, you wear your heart on your fuckin’ sleeve and your feelings all over your face. All anyone gotta do is see you look at Steve and know.”

“Know? Know what?”

Gareth’s voice is almost a whisper now. “Do I really need to say it?”

The wounded beast in Eddie’s chest shudders. “No.” He pulls his eyes away from Gareth, refocuses on the rings on his hands – and more specifically, the ring made from an antique spoon that Steve had made him when they were going through his parents’ shit.

(It was the only piece of Steve he couldn’t bear to hide away these last six weeks.)

“Does – does he?”

(Eddie can’t finish the question; hell, Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s asking.

Thankfully, somehow Gareth does.)

“Go call him, Eds,” Gareth says. He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, a benediction for courage, and then leaves the tour bus, leaving Eddie alone and staring at the phone at the end of the bus.

(Maybe there’s a world where Steve feels, can feel, has felt the same. Maybe there’s a world where, when he told Eddie that he’s taking a break from dating that it meant taking a break from dating someone who wasn’t Eddie. Maybe Steve’s been trying and failing to get past this too, and is spending his nights by the phone like Eddie, waiting for someone to call.)

The phone only rings twice.

“This is Steve.”

(And maybe that world is this one.

But he won’t know until he tries.)

“Hey, Stevie. Got a minute?”

[miniwheat77]

Guard Dog. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!nsfw, violence, blood, wounds, brief mention of alcohol, talk of SA, unprotected p in v sex, Minors DNI!

“You know this is stupid right?” Gaz scoffs.

“Why’s that?”

“Getting into fights over the old man. It’s ridiculous.” He shakes his head. “This is like the 3rd time this week I’ve had to vouch for you over him, you seriously have to tell him how you feel or give up on it. This can’t keep happening. I mean she split your lip open today. It needs stitches. And god only knows what she looks like. I mean you’re a girl just like she is but you pack a much harder punch Y/N.” He sighs, he’s driving you to an urgent care. The simple bowling trip you had taken had turned into something much worse when you had run into some newer recruits to 141. One of them had said something slick about your captain, you can’t even remember what now. The blow you took to the face helped you forget.

You’re not sure what it is but people always seemed to have something to say about him. How he was an asshole, hard on everyone. This or that. You just couldn’t handle it anymore, not when you seen what you saw in him. He was so fucking kind. Always trying so hard, always trying to do the right thing. Looking out for his team. It’s all he ever did. And they still had something negative to say about him. It was infuriating.

Just how long could you even take this.

———

“Uh.. I’ll do a Jack and Coke please.” You ask. Words already slurring. The bartender nods and starts working on it. “Oh and uh.. tequila sunrise for her.” You nod over to Sarah. “Hey Y/N.” The familiar voice has you smiling. “Hey Lori. How you doing?” You ask. “I’m good.” She smiles. “You?”

“I’m great. Never better.” You laugh. “Still apart of 141?” She asks. “Yeah.”

She shakes her head. “I finally had enough, had to transfer to another base.” You tilt your head, confused. “What? Why?”

“Just couldn’t handle Captain Price anymore.” She sighs. Your hair stands up and you can feel yourself going into defense mode. The bartender sets your drinks down and you pay her, tipping her more than you intend, you’re sure how this is about to go. She deserves it for the trouble you’re sure to cause. “Really? I like him, he’s by far the best captain I’ve had.” You mumble, bringing the drink up to your lips. “No. I couldn’t handle him. Like.. he’s an asshole, hard on you no matter what. Everything I did was wrong.” She smiles, looking down. “Thought about lying and saying he was touching me to get a different captain on 141.” She winks. Your face goes hard. “I’m just joking of course.”

“Yeah… I hope so. I wouldn’t go around bragging about that.” You mumble. “It was just a joke. Don’t take it so hard.” She rolls her eyes. You know how this is about to go. “Yeah, maybe next time you see me in public you just walk on by.” You grab the drinks but she grasps you by your shoulder. “You’re fucking him aren’t you?” She scoffs. She’s got a laugh hidden behind it. “Actually, no.”

“Oh, you’re his guard dog? Or you just want to fuck him? Yeah I’m sure you do, but maybe look somewhere else in 141 because he’s old and a fucking pri-“ you set the drinks down while she talks and don’t give her the chance to finish, your fist crashing into her jaw, sending her back. A crowd forms immediately, Sarah, the girl off base you had come with rushes up to the bar where you’re on top of her. Swing after swing until she’s no longer fighting back but blocking your face. She sees a guy come forward, his fist coming down onto the back of your head and you draw away, holding onto your head. Another guy shoves him back and starts swinging. Yelling about how he doesn’t hit a woman. She grabs you by the jacket and shoves you back.

Someone else helps Lori and the 4 of you get shoved outside by the bouncers. They’re yelling for you to leave before they call the cops.

“You fucking bitch! Why would you sucker punch me like that?!”

“Cause you fucking deserve it! And you better keep your mouth shut or I’ll tell about how you like to lie about sexual assault too!” Your voice is slurred. She goes quiet after that, the person she had come with walks away. “Shit. How hard did that guy hit you?” Sarah asks. “Pretty hard but he had fucking brass knuckles on.” You hiss, yanking your arms away from her.

Pretty soon a bunch more people come spilling out, the guy who had hit you is barely walking now. Clearly having gotten his ass beat despite having brass knuckles on his hands still. You start yelling obscenities at him and Sarah has to pull you back further. You’re drunk and pissed off now, a bad combo.

“Sit the fuck down and keep this on the back of your head. We’re going to the ER damnit.” She hisses, pushing the cloth into the back of your head. You’re unsure of when she had snagged it. Mumbling as you sit with your head hanging. “Not going to the fucking ER.” You roll your eyes. “Take me to base”

She shushes you and puts the phone up to her ear.

“Hey uh.. Soap?” She says it into the phone. You try to stand up, trying to stop her but she pushes you back down. “Sarah? What’s up?” She hears his tired voice come across the phone. “We uh.. well.” She laughs. “We drank a little too much and some stuff happened. We could use a ride.” She mumbles. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

“Well. I’m trying to tell Y/N to go to the ER but she won’t listen, so I figured if I get her back to base maybe you or someone else could convince her.” She laughs.

“What’s going on? Is she okay?” Soap stands up quickly. This wakes Ghost up in his bed across the room. “Can you please just get here? We’re on the corner of 5th and 8th NW. Oh and whatever you do. Do not tell Captain Price.” She says.

He sets the phone down with a sigh. Sliding his boots on and grabbing his keys. This is the first time he’s ever gotten a call from her for the both of you, but he’s owed you one. The both of you coming to his rescue a time or two. “What’s wrong Johnny?” Ghost asks. “Uh.. apparently something happened at the bar downtown and Y/N and Sarah need a ride.” He mumbles. “I’ll come with. Give me a minute.” He worries as he creeps out of his shared base room with Ghost.

“Alright.” He hesitates outside and curses himself when Captain Price happens to be passing by, coming off of watch. “Soap, something going on?” He asks. “Uh..” he hesitates. “Y/N and Sarah need a ride from the bar so we’re going to get them.” He mumbles. Captain Price nods. “Mind if I tag along? I could use a drink.” He smiles. Soap knows he’s caught now. “Uhhh…” he hesitates. Ghost sighs. “Just tell him Johnny.”

Soap groans. “Something happened and Y/N needs to go to the ER but they wouldn’t say what for.” He mumbles. “You’ve got to be joking.” He sighs. “Well. What’re we waiting for? Let’s go.” He takes off walking down the corridor and Johnny beats himself up. Sarah is gonna be so pissed.

Price hops into his truck. Soap decides to take his car as well just in case. Ghost rides with him.

They meet at the bar, they’re all familiar with the area, having been to the bar a time or two. They pull up to the curb and see Sarah waiting outside with you.

Soap arrives first and gives Sarah enough time to complain. “What is he doing here Soap?” She seethes. “He overheard Sarah. Not my choice.” He mumbles back. You have your head lowered, a towel against the back.

“The hell happened? What’s going on?” Your Captain asks as he approaches.

“Uh.. well.”

“Fucking- stupid fucking bitch. Who brings brass knuckles to the bar and still loses the fight.”

They can barely make out what you’re saying your words are so slurred.

Captain Price kneels to see the damage, moving the towel for a second. “Oh shit!” He mumbles. Putting it back immediately. “Jesus, that’s a massive gash. She’s going to the hospital.” He breathes. “No! I’m fine.” You finally look up and that’s when they see the already bruised eye you’ve got. A busted lip and blood rushing down your face. “Fucks sake.” Captain Price. “Come on, I’ll take her to the ER.”

“No!” You start flailing the moment he helps you up.

He lowers you for just a second. Voice clear and daring as he says it.

“If you don’t relax and do as I say, I will have you running laps at 4am for weeks.” He seethes. You sigh. You give in, he carries you to his truck.

“Take Sarah to base.” He calls to Soap. He buckles you in and climbs into the drivers seat, pulling off of the curb in a hurry.

“She’s so dead.” Sarah mumbles to Soap. “Yeah? You are too.” He laughs.

“The hell were you thinking? You could’ve gotten yourself fucking killed tonight Y/N.” Price sighs. You scoff. “None of your business. You weren’t supposed to even be here.” Your words are still slurred. He tries not to get mad, knowing that you’re just drunk. “What did you even get into a fight over?” He asks.

You go quiet almost immediately. “Y/N?”

He glances over at you, seeing the way you’ve frozen up.

“I.. it..” you look away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.” He’s stern.

“Because of you, okay?”

“What?”

You groan. “Because. That stupid blonde girl that used to be on our base was there and she was saying shit about you alright?”

Hearing that you’d gotten into a fight with another soldier has hair rising on his skin. This was not good.

“What did she say?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“The hell is going on with you? You don’t act like this.”

“I’ll tell you when I’m sober alright?”

John’s head spins, he didn’t know what the hell was going on. You got into a fight over him, with one of his previous recruits? The hell was going on here.

He gets you to the hospital without another word shared between the two of you.

It’s hours later when you’re allowed to go home. You get into his truck, sober now. You’ve got fresh staples in your head and couple glued wounds on your face. They had to bring an officer in and take down a description of who attacked you and what he attacked you with since it was considered a deadly weapon in the state you were currently living in. “Alright, time to talk.” He sighs. “What on earth could she have said to warrant such a reaction out of you? I know you. You’re not like this.”

You laugh. Looking over at him.

“Alright but if I tell you, you can’t interrupt. You let me get every bit of this off of my chest and you don’t respond until I’m done.” You look at him, still parked in the parking garage of the hospital. He nods. Getting nervous because this seemed serious.

You sigh. Looking away from him, you start. “I have feelings for you. I have since we started that mission in Afghanistan. The first time I met you, yeah. Whatever. That girl, started in about you. She started it. I mean completely and totally saying some of the foulest things I’ve ever heard. She didn’t like you, she’s wanted to do this or that, accuse you of… of touching her to get you fired.” You pause with a sigh. “And than when I took your side she accused me of fucking you. Called you old and shit.” You shake your head. He’s looking at you, stunned. “So I just lost it okay? I lost it and I swung first. She hit me once in the face and then when I was on her some dude she was with hit me in the back of the head but he had brass knuckles on.” You finish.

“And it’s not out of the ordinary because it’s not the first fight I’ve gotten into over you, it’s the only one you know about.” You mumble.

“That’s it, that’s everything.” You sigh. He’s silent for a while. Thinking of what exactly to say to you. “How many fights have you gotten into over me?” He asks. “Several. Gaz takes me to Urgent Care all the time.” You mumble. After that, he’s silent.

When he still says nothing, you turn to the window. Clearly regretting your admission. “I know it was stupid.. I know that I shouldn’t hav-“

“Y/N?” He asks. “What?” You look at him. He throws the truck in Drive and pulls out of the parking garage. “You can’t fight every single person over me just because you like me.”

You shake your head. “It’s not that. It’s not just that I like you. It’s because you’re the best captain and the best superior I’ve ever worked for alright?”

He says nothing. It’s silent for the rest of the ride.

When you get to base, you get out of his truck. Assuming you’ll get booted off of the base in no time at your admission. About to lose your spot in the best task force you’ve ever been apart of all because of your stupid brain. He says nothing, letting you go. The others don’t hear you come in.

Sarah spots you but doesn’t show herself, only walking out of her room when she sees him follow you inside a few minutes later. “Is she okay?” she asks.

“She’s fine, no concussion.”

She nibbles at her lip. “Captain..” she starts. “Did she.. did she tell you anything?” She asks. “What do you mean?” He looks unimpressed. “About.. maybe how she feels about you? Or anything?” He laughs, looking down at the ground. “Yes she did. She told me about all the fights. All that.” He mumbles. “Oh.. good. I’m sorry about tonight, it caught us all off guard.” She says. “I’ll take any punishment you’re going to give.”

“No. I’m letting you off with a warning and putting Y/N on an extra watch for a couple weeks because she was the aggressor tonight.” He sighs. She nods her head. “Thank you Captain.” She whispers. “Go to bed now.” He nods. She smiles sadly and closes the door. She feels for you.

The next morning, you’re up and sitting in the mess hall. You’re not eating anything but you’re drinking coffee. You’re the first one awake.

“Why you awake lass?” Soap asks. “Head hurts.” You mumble. “Obviously. What’d they do to you? Stitches?” He asks. “Staples.” You huff. “Ouch. He must’ve got you good.” He laughs. “Cheap shot but I probably deserved it.” You laugh. Captain Price walks into the mess hall and it’s Soaps cue to leave.

He gets coffee and sits in front of you. You say nothing.

“I’m putting you on watch for a couple weeks, an extra one.” He mumbles. “Ten to one in the morning.” He says. “Yes sir.” He’s surprised you don’t fight but you never have before. Last night was a different side of you he’s never seen.

You stand up, grabbing your coffee and walking away. He sighs to himself. “She’s got it bad, Cap.” Gaz laughs. He’d walked inside after you. “Yeah, yeah she does. Apparently everyone but me saw it.” He chuckles. “Yeah, it’s very obvious. Just watch her.” He laughs. Price shakes his head.

Later that night, you make your way up the stairs to the watch tower. You expect anyone else but freeze when you see him.

He notices but doesn’t say anything. “Um.. here to take over.” You mumble. “No. I just took over for Soap. Have a seat.” He nods toward the other chair. You obey immediately. Something you’ve always done. He’d been thinking to himself for a few minutes before you came up. About how you always had those marks on your face. Black eyes, split lips. Busted knuckles. He saw it but never asked, and a time or two when he did, you said it was an accident from sparring. How much he’d truly missed, he’d asked around about it and it was a lot. He feels like a bad captain. For not asking and not noticing.

It’s quiet the first few days on watch with him. He checks up on you, asks you to look into a flashlight. Makes sure you don’t have a concussion or anything.

As you start healing and spending more time together. He sees you. Your smile is amazing, your laugh is unmatched. You really start to open up to him. Telling him about yourself and stories on missions. Listening and laughing when he tells you some of his own. You’re easy to talk to.

He’d just finished one, a story. You were laughing. Turning away from him. He’s smiling too. He starts to notice the little scars on your face and hands. Your knuckles are scarred and you have a couple scars across your lip. A couple that scatter your face. Cheekbone, brow bone, the bridge of your nose. It makes him sad, because those are there permanently. Because of him.

He sighs. “You’re a real nice girl, you know that?” He says it before he can stop himself. “Makes me wonder what it is you see in me.” He mumbles. Your smile falters as soon as he says it and he feels bad for ruining the mood. “I’m just an old man, and they’re right. I can be a real prick.” He laughs.

You shake your head, a tiny smile hints at your lips.

“You’re hard on people because you care about them. Your harshest moments are when you’re most scared, when people do stupid things that endanger themselves or others. You never yell or get mad unless you have a reason. Usually to reprimand or correct someone for putting themselves in harms way. You care about people. And you’re… respectful and calm and reassuring. When you see us going through our own shit, you send us home or send us back to base when we’re not feeling it. You try your hardest for us and that’s what I see.” You mumble. “I don’t see what everyone else does. I don’t think the things you do have any kind of malicious intent.”

He looks down at his entwined hands. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighs. “But Y/N.” He looks at you. “You can’t keep getting into fights and stuff over this, alright? People will say what they want to say. They’ll do what they want to do.” He shakes his head. “Trust me, it’s hard but you have to be the bigger person and walk away.” You nod your head. “I know.” Your nose burns and tears fill your eyes. Why are you about to cry? “I’m sorry, Captain. I’m not trying to let you down.” He can hear it in your voice that you’re getting upset.

“You’re not letting me down. You’re a great soldier and you’re a good girl. This is just.. a lesson.” He laughs. “I have to go to the bathroom.” You mumble. You stand up, going for the door.

You grasp the door handle.

When it opens a crack, he pushes it shut with his hand above your head. You gasp as it slams back shut, seeing his hand over your head. “What are you doing?” You ask.

You turn to look at him, but don’t expect him to be so close. Grasping your chin and lifting your face to look at him. “You know, out on the field.” He starts. “I pair you and I together, because I don’t feel that others will watch you as close as I do. I watch you like a hawk, I’ve killed over you. Do you know that?” He stares into your eyes. You shake your head. “Think about it for a second darling, go on.” He nods. He rests his entire forearm on the door just above your head. His sleeve presses into the top of your head. He’s insanely close to you.

There’s one scenario he needs you to remember.

When you remember it, you look up at him with wide eyes. “You… killed him because of me?” You ask. You don’t remember it well but well enough. The only time you’d ever seen Captain Price angry like that on the field. He surrendered even, but it didn’t matter. You told your captain you’d keep it to yourself after the fact. The list of secrets you’d been keeping for him kept growing.

“He commented on how pretty you looked. Said that when they got their hands on you…” he pauses. “Wouldn’t let it happen. But you know that.” He laughs. “Wasn’t the first time I’ve killed over you and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Not with how savage and ruthless these terrorists are, they’re bound to say something about you that will push me over the edge. Apparently you defend me just as much as I defend you.” He leans in closer and you close your eyes, taking in a breath.

Your heart races in your chest, the things he’s saying. It’s overwhelming.

When he’s pressing his lips to yours, you’re jumping for a second.

His lips are on yours, this is real.

You’re stiff for a minute but eventually melt into him as he kisses you. He lets you adjust and then he deepens the kiss, reaching for your thighs to lift you up, pinning your hips to the door with his own.

You gasp into his lips when he ruts his groin into you. This is what you had dreamt about for months and it was actually happening.

Your mind is foggy, you go with whatever he’s doing. Letting him memorize every curve of your body, the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin and the burn that they leave. He pulls away from your kiss and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. Tracing the small line scars with the pad of his thumb. The grooves of his fingerprints rough from callouses. His hands are rough and calloused but his touch is soft as he glides his hands over you. Sliding them up your shirt and gripping your hips. He’s all but panting as he tears into you.

Your lips and cheeks flush red, breathless from nearly nothing but the thought of him. The feel of his tough hands on you.

He tugs your shirt up and over your head, thankful that it was just you and him alone. For hours. Once the fabric is discarded, his lips are on yours again. He refuses to think of anything other than you. Not worried about the cameras or what could be going on around him. He slides his shaft through the hole in his jeans, zipper unzipped enough to expose him. Letting you down long enough to get one leg out of your cargo pants before he’s raising you up again. Lowering you onto his dick. Sheathing you entirely on his fat cock.

When he bottoms out a gasp leaves your lips, a hiccup of the remaining air leaving your lungs. He’s a lot. More than you’ve ever taken and it’s been so long that you’d forgotten. The stretch of him burns a bit and tears corner your eyes. It’s unexpected. He shakes, hissing through gritted teeth at the feel of you wrapped around him. Your smooth skin and gentle pleas have him shaking more. “S-shit you feel good.” He breathes, burying his face into the crook of your neck, raising you up more at the bend of your knees. He slides deeper, places untouched by anyone but him. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold onto him. He wraps his arms around your middle, like a bear hug.

Only his cock is buried in you to the hilt and he’s not stopping until he’s made you his. He was always a selfish man.

John doesn’t care anymore, you’re his. You’re his and he’ll show you that you belong to him. That you’ll never feel this way with anyone else. He’ll make sure of it. He uses the wall to hold you still, hips jackhammering into yours at a ruthless pace. Just when you’re about to tap out, he adjusts just slightly and you can take a little more. Your thighs shake in his hands and he’s not letting you out of his grasp. Not until he’s ruined you. Not until you realize just what you’ve signed yourself up for you. A shaky cry leaves your lips and that’s how he knows he’s found it.

“Found it ah?” He laughs, it’s a taunt.

“That special little place, that feels so good? Such a good girl for me.” He breathes. “Ah! You’re s-so deep Captain.”

He hisses, your unsteady voice and how you say Captain has his nearly finishing right there. It’s straight up sinful leaving your lips in such a tone. “Fuck- got me close already.” He growls through gritted teeth. He’s a wild animal. Chasing after that high, desperate for it. A mewl leaves your lips when you cum. It’s unexpected and fast, the tip of his cock abuses that sensitive spot inside of you. Too much to handle. He sends you right into a blinding orgasm and you shake in his hold. His belt rattles with every hard thrust he takes. Over and over until he’s hissing out, nose wrinkling up as he finishes inside of you. Not a second thought about pulling out.

He’s breathless, panting hard as he halts his thrusts. Letting you throb and convulse around him. The little sparks shooting through you, remnants of what he’s just given you linger.

He lets you down and your legs shake, you have to hold onto him. He can’t help but laugh.

He helps you clean up before walking you back to your room. Asking Gaz to take over watch a little early.

He licks his lips as he hesitates leaving you at your door. “Um.. we’ll talk more tomorrow. Alright? Just uh.. try not to get into anymore fights darling.” He laughs.

“You want to stay?” You ask. Opening your door up wider for him. He laughs. “How about you grab some clothes and come back to mine hm?” He tilts his head. “Okay Captain.” You smile. When you turn your back to him, he can’t see your blushing red cheeks or the wide smile on your lips. How all of this time you’d waited and it was finally here.

The both of you walk back to his room, your change of clothes in hand.

Sarah and Soap watch from down the hall, trying to contain their laughs.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You flip the switch and step back with a smile as you admire your work. Lloyd’s hair is nearly back to its normal hue. Your no professional, but at first glance, most people won’t notice the difference. 

“How lucky that you had a blow dryer, sir,” you chime as you follow the cord to the outlet and bend to unplug it. 

“Mm, always keep a travel bag handy,” he grumbles. “Hey, hips, grab me a mirror, will ya?” 

You stand straight and spin around, suddenly conscious of your bottom. You wrap up the cord and put the dryer back in his black bag. You sift around and pull out the small circle mirror inside. You hand it over to him as he watches you. 

“Needs some gel,” his eyes flick down to his reflection as he holds up the mirror and flips his fingers in his hair. “Comb.” 

You take his terse demands in stride. You’re just happy you didn’t ruin his hair. He probably is too, but he’d never admit that. 

You retrieve his comb and gel and set it on his desk. He shoves the mirror toward you and you wince. You take it and he grabs your wrist, guiding you to angle it towards him.

You stand there like an object as he opens the tin. He spreads the gel over his hair and uses the comb to tidy it. You look around. 

“Stay still,” he demands. 

“Sorry, sir,” you face him. “Mr. Hansen, it looks really good, I think.” 

“Mmm, it’s even,” he shrugs and tosses the comb down. He snaps his fingers and you trade the comb for the tissue box. He takes one to wipe his fingers. “I always look good, sweet cheeks.” 

He sits back and looks at you, arms crossed. You nod and tidy up the mess he left. 

“Of course, Mr. Hansen,” you agree as you pack everything away in his bag. 

“So you agree?” 

“Agree, sir?” You turn to him again. 

“That I look good.” 

You lower your brows and think. You don’t want to be unprofessional but you also can’t hurt his feelings. More like it would dent his ego. 

“Your hair looks really nice--” 

“Not the question, hips,” he huffs. 

You shift and sway nervously, “well, sure, sir. I think you clean up nice. You always look spiffy.” 

“Spiffy?” He frowns, “Get out.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You go to leave and he tuts, “ah. I’m gonna need a fresh breakfast. This is cold.” 

As you spin back again, the wrap lands on the floor in front of you. You step back as it explodes and the fluffy eggs litter the floor and the toes of your low heels. You bend to clean it up, swallowing your agitation. Sometimes, he really does get to you. 

“Good girl, hips, but try not to wag your ass like that outside these walls. Someone might get the wrong idea,” he scoffs. 

You stand up, “sir, would you like a fresh coffee too?” 

He leans his chin in his hand, his scowl dull with disappointment, “fine. Go.” 

You’re content to get some space from your boss. After so long tending to him, you can’t help but feel smothered by his persistent nagging. You can still smell the remover and dye as the scent clings to you. There’s another scent mingled in, maybe his cologne. 

You get a new wrap and coffee and return to the office. As you dip into Hansen’s office, he’s on a call. You leave his breakfast with him and duck out again. You sit behind your desk with a breath of relief. Finally, some space. Back to work. 

You skip lunch to make up for the time spent fixing Hansen’s hair. He emerges only to drop his garbage on your desk for you to clean up and with a few demands here and there. Nothing out of the usual. Everything’s back to how it should be; including his hair. 

You want to giggle as you think of it. You really should’ve tried to get a pic. No, that would be too much. 

Your phone vibrates and you rub your eye as you peel your gaze from your monitor. You open up the message from Peter. It’s a reminder of your plans. Seven o’clock! You add it to your calendar just to be sure. 

“Listen up, cheeks,” Hansen struts out as he checks his watch, “I need you to make me a reservation tonight. Six-thirty. Maestro’s. I got a buddy coming into town.” 

“Sure thing, sir,” you answer. “I’ll call the restaurant. Table for two.” 

“Get a booth, hips. You can come.” 

“Uh, Mr. Hansen?” You hesitate. 

“Uh, Missie,” he mocks, “just do what I tell you.” 

“I understand, sir, I can get the table but I have plans--” 

“You have plans?” He stomps his foot and tilts his head. “Since when do you have fun, Missie? Don’t tell me some freak wants to eat cake of your ass.” 

“Sir!” You exclaim. 

He snickers, “oh, come on, tell your little girlfriends to do something else. You’re coming.” 

“But sir, I finish at six--” 

“You finish when I say you do,” he snarls and jabs his fingertip at you. “Don’t test me. I’ve had a fucked up morning and I don’t need you ruining the rest of my day.” 

You stare at him and flick your lashes. You’re disappointed. You really did want to see Peter. He was always so much fun. 

“Alright, I’ll tell my friend not to bother--” you lift up your phone but before you can do anything, Mr. Hansen snatches it from you. 

“Peter? What kinda cuck name is that?” He snips. 

You stand up and reach for your cell. He keeps it out of your grasp as he keys with one thumb, looking up at the screen. 

“Sorry, Petey boy,” he types slowly, “found a bigger dick to ride.” 

He drops his arm and tosses the phone at you. You catch it against your chest and gape at him. He laughs again, “aw, Missie, don’t give me that look. You might actually make me feel bad.” He pinches your cheek and clicks his tongue, “get me a fucking reservation.” 

[loveinhawkins]

When Eddie’s terrified, he feels cold—and it’s not a mild thing, not just goosebumps on his arms. It’s violent shivers: his breath catching as ice forms in his lungs, crystallising up his throat until he can barely talk.

It was bad at the middle school talent show: stuck in the wings with fellow students pressed up against him, all jostling for space. He should’ve been sweating.

And technically he was, but it was as if his brain hadn’t checked in with his body or maybe the other way round, and he kept biting down hard on his tongue as his teeth chattered.

A teacher noticed and even asked if he was feeling sick, if he wanted to be sent home.

He shook his head, felt his legs shaking; Jeff had to speak for him until it was finally the band’s turn on stage, and the ice thankfully thawed enough for him to sing.

But right now he thinks the ice is here to stay.

He’s sat back in the boat, the tarp tangled up by his feet; he can’t stop one knee from bouncing up and down erratically. He knows he isn’t really shaking because of the literal cold, but it doesn’t exactly help that it’s damp as hell in here.

He’s not alone—he’s still surrounded by quite possibly the most random group of people in history. Dustin’s leading the conversation, which has devolved into Max teasing him about some girl called Suzie.

Eddie suspects the change of tone is deliberate, that these kids who are somehow well-versed in a literal fucking war have an admirable intuition; have sensed that he needs a cool down after learning about an evil alternate dimension. Kinda like what he does if he watches a horror movie late at night—makes sure to read some light-hearted crap before he goes to sleep, so the scary shit isn’t the last thing on his mind.

Eddie appreciates the thought. If he wasn’t still repressing shivers, he might even find it sweet.

But the chatter isn’t helping.

He can’t grab a hold of it, the sounds slipping away before he can make sense of them; his mind keeps drifting away, and he’s suddenly stuck on the thought that he can’t remember what Chrissy’s last words to him were. He can hardly even recall what her laugh sounded like in the woods—like everything about her has been trapped underwater, stifled beyond all recognition.

He let her die, and he can’t even manage the decency of remembering her. What the fuck is wrong with him?

He exhales shakily. Neither Max or Dustin seem to notice, which both relieves him and sets his teeth on edge.

His lungs are tight, but he still feels a sudden urge to talk—for once wishes that he’d just bite his tongue instead.

Something’s cracking deep inside him.

He’d thought his breaking point had been reached long ago, but it keeps getting worse; as the kids talk, he can’t avoid the fact that they’ve already watched him profoundly lose it, and shame spreads from the pit of his stomach—merges with the ice, culminating in a bitter wave of self-loathing.

Leave me alone, he desperately wants to say, but he knows it’ll just come out in a scream, knows it’ll sound like he’s furious. That’s always been the way of things, at least for him: deep-seated fear hiding underneath anger.

He opens his mouth. His teeth are clacking together.

He manages to temper the feeling right at the brink so that all he says is, “D-don’t you assholes have a bed time?”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Dustin says, over the sound of Max scoffing.

Please go, just fucking go, I’m gonna fall apart and I don’t want you to see it, not again.

“Yeah, well I have a bedtime, so let’s get outta here, dickheads,” Steve says.

He sounds dry, borderline snippy. But his eyes fleetingly meet Eddie’s as he speaks, like he’s heard him somehow. Like he understands.

Dustin stands with some customary grumbling, pulling Max up with him.

“Night, Eddie. It’ll be okay,” he says, so optimistic—with an unshakeable courage that Eddie has never once possessed.

Eddie attempts a smile. Has no idea if he succeeds.

Robin’s already standing, walking off behind Dustin and Max—but then she spins, doubles back on herself; Eddie jumps at the sudden movement.

“Water!” she says, “I’ve got some in the car, you should—hang on, Eddie.”

“I’m—I’m fine, I don’t need…” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, fades out on him. He coughs, tries again, slightly louder, “I said I don’t need it!”

But Robin’s already too far away to hear him.

The quiet rustle of a jacket: Steve is still here.

Eddie lunges forward as quick as he can. His hand clasps around Steve’s wrist.

“Harrington, seriously, tell her not to bother, man. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll just throw it back up.”

It’s almost too dark to see, but Eddie swears Steve’s eyes are flickering over his face. He doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.

“Dude, you need to drink, at least,” Steve says finally. He gently tugs himself free—stepping back with an apologetic air, slowly enough that Eddie doesn’t startle. “Gimme a sec.”

He’s back in under a minute, passing Eddie a bottle of water with the cap already off.

Eddie drinks. Despite his protesting, he knows it’s for the best; his head is pounding. He spills the water more than once; his hand is trembling.

Steve doesn’t mention it.

“I can get you some food,” he says.

Eddie shakes his head. “I ate before. Not hungry.”

He’s telling the truth, although he can’t remember what he ate. Can’t remember much of anything.

Steve doesn’t look very happy with that response. His frown is audible when he asks, “Don’t you have a blanket or something?”

Eddie laughs, horribly false. “Why, Harrington? Wanna tuck me in?”

Steve doesn’t answer.

Eddie wants him to retaliate with what he deserves: cutting words. Wants Steve to throw out something cruel, then leave him be.

No. That’s not…

He wants… he wants…

“Don’t move,” Steve says. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie laughs again—a little more genuine. “Can’t exactly go anywhere.”

He doesn’t know how long Steve takes. He loses track of time after the sound of the car reversing fades away; the darkness stretches out before him, and his fingers flex, tremulous, and he almost starts to believe that no-one’s found him after all, that he’s alone, that he’ll always be—

The soft crunch of tires rolling over gravel. The twin clunks of a car door being opened then closed, not too loudly, followed by even footsteps. Slow. Safe. And Eddie hears Steve singing, quiet enough that he can’t really decipher the lyrics.

He doesn’t know why he recognises it, why it’s so familiar. But he understands why Steve is doing it, the realisation burning in his throat: that Steve is signalling his approach, so Eddie knows it’s him.

“Hey,” Steve says, and there’s a gentle kind of thud—something being dropped by Eddie’s feet. Then the soft press of fabric behind him: a pillow.

Eddie manages to shift his feet a bit. More fabric. It’s a blanket.

“I just thought, like, two layers, y’know?” Steve is saying. “Not ideal with the tarp, but it should trap more heat compared to…” Eddie’s throat tightens even more. It’s so… so fucking kind.

“Thanks,” he manages.

“Hey,” Steve says again, softer—a hand lands on Eddie’s knee; his palm is warm. “You’re okay.”

Eddie realises belatedly that he’s crying again. For a little while, it just feels automatic, as if he’s detached from the tears; Steve gives him space, working around him.

And Steve’s not tucking him in really, just sort of shaking out the blanket, but he lets it fall with intention—smoothes out the creases when it gathers around Eddie’s knees.

Eddie doesn’t know what changes, just knows that he’s abruptly aware of the silent tears building into something more. There’s a false jagged sensation of something getting caught in his chest as he swallows, and he gasps, inhales sharply—once, twice; feels that panicked stutter to his breath, like when he was a kid failing at treading water.

Steve crouches by the side of the boat.

“You’re okay,” he repeats. He’s rubbing his throat ever so slightly while he says it—doesn’t seem aware that he’s doing it.

“I’m s—” Eddie chokes on the words again, a distressed hum cutting through instead. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Eddie, it’s—”

Eddie points to Steve’s throat. “C-could’ve—mm, mm. Could’ve been bad.”

He remembers the feeling of Steve’s skin against the shard of glass, remembers his stupid shaking hands—so close, too close to blood being spilled.

Just a hair’s breadth away from…

It could’ve happened so easily. Two deaths on his conscience.

“Eddie,” Steve says calmly. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have let you.”

It’s not a threat. It’s a reassurance.

His hand falls away from his neck, as if making a point.

Eddie stares and stares—and it’s definitely too dark to tell if there’s a bead of blood on Steve’s skin, but his mind does the work for him.

Vivid, wet. It wouldn’t stop. Chrissy. Her eyes…

The ice freezes over completely, stops up his throat.

Eddie can’t breathe.

“Yeah, you can,” someone’s saying, “hey, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, okay? I’m just gonna…”

A snap.

Eddie flinches, cries out with a wordless noise of anguish.

Through the roaring in his ears, he hears, “Shit,” before a contrite whisper of, “Sorry, sorry.”

Steve. Steve’s here, guiding his hands until they’re cupped around something.

Something warm.

It starts the thaw, draws air back into Eddie’s lungs. His head clears a little. He knows where he is. Wishes he wasn’t…

He wants someone to tell him that Chrissy didn’t suffer, that she didn’t feel anything.

No.

He wants someone to wake him up, to tell him it was just a nightmare, that he can go home; he wants the universe to rearrange itself so that Chrissy never even met him—that the only trouble she ever has to deal with is which shoes to wear with her graduation robes.

“I want,” he gets out, “I want—”

“I know,” Steve says.

His hands are still wrapped around Eddie’s.

And Eddie senses the source of the heat now, a packet of some kind.

A hand-warmer.

He manages to take a proper breath, deep enough that he can smell the pillow Steve has given him; it doesn’t smell of the detergent Wayne uses, but it smells like a home at least. The dip in the middle makes him suspect that Steve’s brought the pillow from his own bed.

Eddie breathes in again. Out.

“There you go,” Steve murmurs.

Gradually the warmth against Eddie’s palms brings about a repeatedly suppressed, bone-deep tiredness. His eyes are stinging with it, and he feels like the boat’s been pushed out onto the lake; he sways forward without meaning to.

“Sorry,” he says, tongue thick.

He lifts his head to find Steve looking at him intently, brow furrowed.

“You should lie down,” Steve says quietly. “You look exhausted.”

Eddie does, turns onto his side so he can still just about see over the side of the boat. But…

“I won’t sleep,” he tells Steve through a sigh. He’s not arguing the point; it just seems inevitable.

Steve shrugs. “Just shutting your eyes is better than nothing,” he says casually enough, but it sounds too knowing, like he’s speaking from experience.

Eddie wonders what Steve sees when he falls asleep.

Steve stands up slowly. Hesitant.

“I’m—um. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d stay, believe me, but I just—I don’t want the car here too long in case someone…”

“Go, Harrington,” Eddie says, hopes it comes out as gentle as he means it to be. “You’re the taxi service.”

Steve smiles. “We’ll be back,” he says. “Tomorrow, okay? I promise. We’ll bring food.”

“Tomorrow,” Eddie echoes. Tries and fails to push down a yawn. “Food.”

It’s not so bad, listening to Steve walking away. Eddie’s eyes close, burn with relief; in his head he follows along with the sound of Steve’s footsteps as they get more and more distant.

Car door opening. Closing. Seems farther away than before. His head is heavy.

He doesn’t expect to fall asleep. But he does his best to keep his thoughts on something light anyway. Maybe the continual warmth between his hands helps, ensures he doesn’t spiral back down to… to…

It comes to him fuzzily: why he recognised Steve singing in the first place.

Last summer, going to the mall to catch a movie, walking past an ice-cream parlor and hearing…

It was an unselfconscious kind of singing—no tension in the high notes. The sort usually done alone.

And do you feel scared? I do. But I won't stop and falter.

Eddie glanced over. Steve had been mopping, head down, but he looked up suddenly—for a moment, Eddie worried that he had been spotted. But then he watched the surreal sight of a group of children walking all over the wet floor, Steve beckoning them onward with fond exasperation.

He tapped at his wrist. “You’re cutting it fine tonight. Through the back, round the—”

“We know,” came an already distant chorus.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“And if anyone hears about this—”

“We’re dead!”

A door shut—alone again, Steve shook his head to himself. Smiled.

And if we threw it all away. Things can only get better.

Eddie remembers thinking that his voice wasn’t all that bad. It was nice.

It was…

Eddie wakes up warm.

The sight of the tarp disorients him for a few seconds—but he’s too sleepy to be panicked. The blanket against his jeans feels perfectly heavy. Keeps him still. Keeps him…

He thinks he must unintentionally drift off again; when he comes to, he feels that the hand-warmer he’s holding has gone cold. His feet knock against something, and he opens his eyes enough to see that Steve’s left more pouches. He takes one, hums when he cracks it so he doesn’t hear the…

It’s another day. He’s still here, damp wood against his back. A pillow beneath his head.

He knows the nightmare hasn’t stopped; Chrissy is still dead.

But there’s things he can touch, hold onto—evidence that he’s not been left alone, not really. He knows that Steve will come back. They all will.

His hands are warm.

And that’s something.

[midnightloversmusic]

I would absolutely love some hurt/comfort with poly!marauders. I struggle a lot with anxiety and shit, so if possible, maybe something to do with that? Thanks :)

Hiii i’m sorry this took so long for some reason every time I went to write this i’d blank but I finally got it finished and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

—

Your Job made you want to throw up. Even now sitting in your car about to leave, just the thought of it was enough to get your heart racing and your mind whirling. You have wanted this job since you were a kid. Back then it all seemed mystical. A place that would be filled with unicorns and rainbows. Then you got to high-school and suddenly everyone was telling you wherever you work there would be an asshole boss and mean colleagues. Even when this was being hammered into your head, you held out hope. All the way through college you grasped onto that hope with unrelenting force.

Then you graduated and worked your way up to your dream job. You had worked your ass off in other words. Even with the jobs you had along the way, of course they were shitty, but you held out hope for once in your life and believed that this job would be better. It would be perfect.

God were you wrong.

Now when you come home from work you’re absolutely exhausted. Your new boss has worn you down by overworking you. But you’re new and still believe you have to prove yourself so you do it all with no complaint. Not to mention your colleagues, who seem to see you as a tool to do all of the work they don’t want to do. But in order to become friendly with them, you try to hand out as many favors as you can, while being swamped with work of your own. You are stressed thinking about the next day of work almost immediately as you set foot inside your house.

Your sweet, loving, caring boyfriends have noticed a change in your demeanor. Your shoulders are tighter, posture stiff, movements languid because your body is so exhausted. After work one day James came behind you as you were cooking and wrapped his arms around your torso. He had whispered softly in your ear asking if you were alright and if there was anything he can do. You brushed him off and said you were just tired and he doesn’t need to worry. He’s been sending you worried glances ever since. Sirius had been silently studying you. He knows body language more fluently than any form of speaking because of the environment he grew up in. He could see it in your stance, something was wrong. He didn’t want to beat around the bush so he just asked you what was bothering you. Over and over and over again. Each time you’d respond with an over exaggerated sigh, saying

“I’m just tired Siri. There is nothing to worry about.”

or you’d let out a stiff laugh and quip

“Is there something wrong with you you’re not saying? Why are you always so insistent on talking about me?”

You know it’s a low blow and he was only trying to help but you’re already on edge and you don’t want your boyfriends to know what’s going on because if they know you are sure to have a breakdown, and you do not have time for a breakdown right now.

Remus hasn’t said anything to you yet, but his actions definitely express worry. When you come home from work as soon as you have set your stuff down Remus is up making you a cup of tea. Or he’s sitting on the couch patting the seat next to him asking you if you’d like him to read to you, or watch your favorite movie, or binge the new season of your favorite TV show. Sometimes he’ll just come beside you a massage your shoulder and let out a disapproving hum at the tightness. Hell mummer under his breath as if he was talking to himself,

“Working my girl too hard”

So that’s why sitting in your car about to leave for work, your stomach is turning. The stress of impressing your boss, pleasing your fellow employees, and keeping your stress from the boys has become to much. There’s nothing you can do as you pull out of the driveway and repeat the mantra in your head saying don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry.

Later that day when you are pulling back into the driveway somehow your day has gotten worse. You had to pull over on the side of the road and flash your hazards because your eyes got too cloudy from the constant fall of tears streaming down your face. Everything was just too much. And the thing is you are a hard worker. You fought tooth and nail for this job. You want this job. You were supposed to love this job. Instead your overcome with waves of panic every-time you think about going into work. Every-time a colleague texts you and you hear the unmistakable ping you flinch. It’s been consuming your mind fully since the day you started and you broke down.

You don’t care about hiding it from the boys anymore. You just need a hug. You blindly reach for your car door, making note that James isn’t home yet, and all but fling yourself inside the house. You’re letting out gut wrenching sobs and you feel like you can’t breathe. You’re practically suffocating in your jacket and you need it off. Off off off off off. You repeat over and over in your mind, or maybe out loud you’re really not sure anymore, as your shaky hands fail again and again to reach your zipper. Sirius is the first to get to you. His heart practically stops at the sight.

“Love, what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He scans over your body. Checking if he can see any physical damage. When he decides there is no life-threatening wounds, at least that he can see, he jumps into action.

“Hey, hey, hey” he says,

The last ‘hey’ coming out more sternly than the others. You look up at him and your heart somehow shatters more. His face looks so caring and scared. You sob harder at the sight and continue to pull at the neck of your jacket.

“it’s okay, I got it. C’mon let’s walk over to the couch okay? Sh it’s okay, you’re okay”

As Sirius takes your zipper into his hands and urgently, but less harshly, zips it down he slowly pulls you to the couch. Remus emerges from the hallway and immediately goes still at the sight. He rushed to the kitchen to get a glass of water and comes back to help Siri pick up your broken pieces.

When you finally catch enough breath to sob out

“I just don’t know how i’m going to do it anymore!”

“Do what m’love?” Remus quietly questioned while stroking your hair,

“My job!” you practically shouted into Siri’s chest. “My boss is throwing me on every project and he knows it’s too much! He wants me to fail and I don’t want him to win so i’ve been doing it all. But the better I do the more he assigns and I can’t keep up with it anymore”

Both boys comforting you share a worried glanced at each-other. Having a silent conversation with their eyes. Just as Sirius opened his mouth to say something, the unmistakable sound of the door opening and James yelling out,

“The loves of my life, i’m home!”

Really James has immaculate humorous timing. When he realizes no one has answers he scans the room quickly before his eyes catch on you curled up in a ball practically on top of Sirius and Remus kneeling on the ground in front of you.

His face immediately falls.

“Baby, what happened?”

The utter concern in his voice and his caring expression made you let out another sob and re-explain the story and add in a few more details about how your coworkers have been treating you.

Once you’ve spilled your guts the boys concerned faces only worded causing you slight confusion. You just told them what’s wrong, they comforted you, now you should go back to normal.

Remus is the first to speak

“The next time you’re feeling anxious about anything, especially your job, just tell me, Sirius, or James and we can talk about it or try to take your mind off of it. It’s not good to be stressed all the time, especially when you aren’t telling anyone about it. A job should never make you this upset. I know you love it but I think you should have a serious conversation with your boss when your ready.”

Sirius adds in,

“I could help you write up a speech or I could just march right in there with you. But please come and see me when your feeling anxious, or shoot me a text while your at work”

“We love you and we want you to be happy and if this job isn’t making you happy, I say drop it and find one that makes you love it the way we love you.”

James mumbles as he wipes his thumbs under your eyes, taking away your tears.

[peachhcs]

going to worlds

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

with worlds coming up, tensions get high in the hughes’ household between luke and samy.

2k words

so this is actually more samy x luke more than samy x will but here’s the sibling angst i mentioned a few days ago! i feel like we don’t see a lot of samy’s relationship with her brothers so i wanna try and write that more but i will be writing more about worlds between will and samy as it plays out! :))

au masterlist

“no, absolutely not,” luke immediately shook his head as he walked out of the kitchen. samy was hot on his tail as she followed him into the living room, watching as he plopped himself onto the couch, remote in hand. 

“why not? it’s not like i’m gonna be bothering you,” the younger hughes argued, hanging herself over the couch so she was right in her brother’s face. 

the boy pushed her away, “but it will be a bother when i have to look after you the entire month there. i’m not doing that shit. i’m not gonna be some babysitter at my own hockey tournament,” luke was being harsh which samy sort of expected, but not this bad.

“i’m 19 years old. you don’t need to look after me,” the girl fired back. 

“that’s not what mom and dad will say. plus, i kind of do because we’re in a fucking foreign country and i’m not that stupid to let you wander around czechia by yourself,” luke shot back even harder. a frustrated groan escaped samy’s lips. this brother was supposed to be easier than her other two. 

“i won’t be by myself. plus, i went to sweden and mom and dad were fine,” samy mumbled sheepishly. 

“what do you think you’re gonna do when we’re at practice almost the whole day? sit in the hotel? that’s gonna get boring real quick,” the curly-brunette shook his head, already very over the conversation and disregarding what his sister said.

“you’re being such a brat. i’m not 12 years old anymore, luke. i can take care of myself, you know. you’re not even 21 yet so right now it’s a one year age difference.” 

“why do you even wanna go? don’t you have your own shit to do instead of follow me to czechia,” the middle hughes rolled his eyes. although, his words hit a nerve. 

samy drew back off the couch, a frown settling onto her lips. sure, her and luke had their fair share of fights and arguments, but for some reason, his words hurt even more than any of those combined. 

“jesus, when did you turn into such an asshole?” now her words hit luke’s nerve this time. the older boy whipped around so hard samy swore he gave himself whiplash. his lips were set in a straight line along with his eyebrows pinched together. 

“who are you calling an asshole right now? you’re the one who needs to grow up right now,” the boy shot back quite harshly. 

“so me going to every single one of your ntdp games, home games at umich mean nothing to you? you just think i’m following you around?” the girl frowned, her hurt showing more than she anticipated as her voice wavered. 

“i- i..that’s not what i meant, sam. i just..it’s gonna be a bother and you just wanna go to make out with your boyfriend anyway,” luke defended himself, but his words didn’t sound any better than before. 

those words hurt samy a lot more than a few minutes ago. luke never called her sam ever. the siblings stared at one another, the silence engulfing them while luke awaited a response. “so that’s what you think? you’ve just forgotten that will’s still my best friend and i’ve been supporting him since we were kids along with you? you just think i wanna go to be some bother to you and have sex with my boyfriend?” samy’s voice finally rose to the point where they both knew she was angry. 

“i mean..am i wrong?” the wrong responses kept falling from the middle hughes’ mouth. 

“yes! you are wrong, luke! haven’t you and will always wanted to play on the same team together since we were kids but never could because you weren’t ever in the same age group? and now that it’s finally happening, i can’t go and support my brother and best friend who are playing for the same team because all you think is that i’m going to have sex with him all the time and be some fucking bother. i only asked you because i knew mom and dad would only let me go if you said yes and i thought you would because you’d want your sister there cheering you on like i have been for your entire life. maybe this whole fame thing really did get to your head,” samy stormed off before luke could even respond. her heavy footsteps carried all the way up the stairs until the boy heard her bedroom door slam shut. 

“woah, someone’s mad..” jack came out from the downstairs bedroom. his hair looked absolutely insane like he’d just woken up despite it being 2 in the afternoon. 

“i don’t know what’s up with her,” luke rolled his eyes, settling back into the couch like nothing happened. 

“she’s got a point, you know. you were kind of being an asshole,” jack shrugged as he wandered into the kitchen. 

“oh come on, not you too. if she goes, i’m just gonna have to look after her!” luke exclaimed, head falling back onto the couch in frustration. 

“she’s not some kid anymore, moosey. she’s 19. you’re not even 21. she can handle herself. she did in sweden,”  jack stuck up for their little sister. 

“that was different because everyone was there already. this isn’t the sam, jack. mom and dad will put me on babysitter duty because they aren’t there,” the younger brother continued his defense. 

“i don’t think it would be babysitting. more like making sure she’s okay. checking in? plus, i doubt she’ll even be in the hotel room that much anyway. she’ll wanna hang with smitty and leno,” jack started making himself a sandwich with the little ingredients in the fridge. apparently, ellen and jim hardly grocery shopped when they didn’t have four kids in one house anymore. 

“yeah and then that will lead to them having sex and then that becomes a whole thing,” luke rambled on. 

“is this really about not wanting samy there or is it about you thinking she’s taking away your moment if she’s there?” the older hughes brother proposed a new idea. he always saw through to his siblings hidden emotions they were trying to conceal. a beat of silence passed between the brothers and jack took the silence as his answer. he stopped making his sandwich for a moment to find a seat on the couch beside his brother. luke’s gaze stuck to the ground. 

“come on, rusty. talk to me,” jack nudged his brother’s knee. 

“it just feels like i never get to hang out with will because samy’s always there. or..he chooses her instead of hanging with us nowadays. being able to play on team usa together has been our dream since we were kids. i love that samy’s happy and so is will..i just..i really hoped this could be a just us thing. i don’t know. sounds selfish, i know,” the younger boy mumbled almost ashamed. 

“it’s not selfish, lukey. i get it. i’m still getting used to their whole dating thing too here and there. it is weird seeing one of your close friends date your sister,” jack sympathized. “i’m sure if you talked to samy she’ll understand. she’s always been your #1 supporter, luke. i know she’s not trying to come with you to wedge her way in between you guys. maybe set some boundaries?” 

“maybe i just feel so disconnected because i went to college and then was hardly ever around. feels like i don’t even know her sometimes anymore or will, you know? he used to be attached to our hips as kids and now..it’s just..not the same,” the curly-haired boy’s voiced faded off. a frown appeared on jack’s lips, rubbing his brother’s arm in a soothing manner. 

“talk to her, lukey. this can be your chance to reconnect with both of them the month you’re there,” the older boy encouraged. 

luke finally took to his words, agreeing as he got up and shuffled upstairs to hopefully reconcile. samy’s room sounded quiet the closer he got, so he gently knocked on the door.

“go away,” he heard lowly.

“please? just wanna talk,” luke mumbled from outside. 

a beat of silence passed until there was a small click and his sister’s gaze appeared through the crack, “about what?” 

“me being an asshole,” the older boy admitted in defeat that she was right earlier. the door opened wider, an indication that he could go in. 

luke’s gaze flicked around the room that he really hadn’t seen in..years almost. it was so similar, yet it felt so different in his eyes. so much time seemed to pass in samy’s room.

“you have five minutes to give me a good explanation,” the girl crossed her arms, snapping her brother back into reality. 

the guilt crept across luke’s face as he struggled on where to start. he was never the one to admit his feeling outright like this. “first, i’m sorry. i was an asshole about the whole thing,” he began.

“yeah, you kind of were. that really hurt, luke,” samy said seriously and the boy sighed. 

“i know..i don’t know why—i think i just…” he stumbled over his words and everything he just admitted to jack downstairs. “feels like i don’t really know you anymore just because i’ve been away and i hate that. we used to be so close and now it feels like we just don’t talk..same with will. i dunno. i guess i just didn’t want you there because i was being selfish and just wanted will and i there together. i realize now that you deserve to be there too to support us,” the boy continued in a long ramble that probably made no sense. 

he watched samy’s expression soften up a little, “you think we aren’t close anymore?” 

“i mean..not as close as we used to be. college and everything else seems to have made us drift..same with jack. same with quinn.”

yes, the hughes siblings were close, but not nearly as close when they all lived under one roof. one by one as each brother left, their bond slowly dissipated. texts became littler and littler. the time changes weren’t easy to work around sometimes. 

in some ways, samy saw where luke came from because quinn and jack missed a lot of big milestones in samy’s life yet she was there for all of theirs. 

“i-i’m sorry. i didn’t know you felt that way,” the girl frowned. 

“no, no, it’s not your fault. i just..have been feeling weird lately. i think having you there will be really fun. maybe it can even make up for some of the time we’ve lost,” luke offered a smile. 

“no, i don’t have to go. you’re right. it’s a you and will thing. something you’ve been waiting for since you were kids,” the girl shook her head.

“no, no, i want you there. i promise. plus, i think smitty would actually fight me if he knew i wasn’t letting you come. i’m serious. we can catch up. have fun in czechia together. i’m sure mom and dad would love our sibling bonding,” the two shared a laugh. 

“are you sure?” 

“positive. i’ve missed hanging around you,” luke opened his arms for a hug. the youngest hughes stepped into his arms and they shared a tight hug in what felt like forever. 

“we’re gonna have so much fun there. i already have an intinerary planned for your off days,” the girl grinned widely when the two pulled away. 

a laugh escaped luke’s lips, “of course you do. we’ll talk to mom and dad tonight, yeah?” 

samy nodded and she let her brother squeeze her shoulders one last time before leaving her alone for now. she excitedly called will next to let him know the good news that they’d be able to spend the next few weeks together. 

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass 11 pt 2

masterpost

Danny woke from the sleep of the dead with a howl and a swinging fist. It met air, but he wasn’t alone. He felt curiosity and playful aggression in the room.

The room was dark. He lit it with a green glow and chased the dark shadow in his room. Danny flung himself over the coffee table with a roar before he had even consciously realized that there was another ghost in his lair.

The intruder fluttered backwards. Metal went shick from behind him. Danny went intangible and something thudded into the kitchen cupboard. 

Two ghosts? No. One ghost, and one- Danny stole a glance- child. One child? “The fuck!” he shouted, upset and nearly pissed off. It had been a looooong time since some intangible asshole had ruined his sleep. The other ghost stopped their retreat and darted at him, a dark and disorienting smudge in his cramped apartment. He went intangible again and braced for impact with whatever they had in their arsenal.

They went right through him with a vicious jab, paused a microsecond, and then adjusted to his level of tangibility to smack his shoulder out of joint in a crazily precise blow. 

The child flicked the light on.

“...Robin?” Danny said, voice still rough with sleep. Why was a Gotham vigilante in his apartment? And the ghost– “Black Bat?” He reset his shoulder with a pop.

Black Bat frowned. Her joy faded. “...Not Jacqueline,” she said. Her voice was toneless but disappointment came across through her aura.

Fuck, really? No one even knew who they were and he was still being overlooked for his genius sister. Danny groaned and flopped back on the couch, sprawling so one hand hung over the edge and the other over the back. “Get out,” he complained. “She’s at work. But you should leave her alone, anyway. She’s tired.”

“Are you her paramour or her guard dog?” Robin asked, cocking his head. His aura said: I’m impressed. 

Now that Danny was really looking, Robin had a bit of an ectoplasmic tinge. So. Two non-humans, in his apartment, in the dead of the night. “I don’t give personal information to suspicious people,” Danny sniped. He narrowed his eyes at Black Bat, ruffles officially hackled. “Stay away from her. She isn’t hurting anyone and she needs to focus on her degree.”

“Do you really think that there is no harm in engineering?” Robin sniffed. “You are naive.”

…Danny stared at the child dubiously. What the hell did they think Jazz was going to do with a degree in civil engineering? “Did she like, trip some red flags of being a new rogue or something?” he guessed. It would have been a fair guess for anyone who knew their parents. “She’s not. She’s just …passionate.”

“Genuine,” Black Bat said, sounding disappointed. “Knows nothing.”

Danny felt mildly offended about that one. He knew a lot, actually. He just didn’t know anything that Jazz could have possibly done to merit a two-bat intervention.

He squinted at her suspiciously. “You broke into my house to tell me that I’m not involved in anything shady?” he confirmed. She was flat wrong, but still. “You’re the rude one here. You’re shady. You prove your good intentions to me.” He crossed his arms.

Black Bat seemed to narrow her eyes at him. She probably was, under her creepy mask set up. She radiated her emotions so strongly that the full face mask was probably a dire necessity. “...No,” she finally said, and tried to tip him off the sofa onto the floor. The operant word was tried because Danny lifted his eyebrows and stubbornly floated upwards. 

Black Bat looked at the floor where she wanted him to be. She looked back at him. Her aura said she felt betrayed. She had wanted to see him tumble and squawk. This was unfair. She was a sad, sad girl.

Danny sniggered. 

“You are a metahuman,” Robin said, matter of fact and absolutely wrong. “Unregistered, surely. Have you been put in contact with Gotham resources? Are you safe? Has Jacqueline trafficked you? There is no record of your residence here, and I notice that there is no bed for you.”

Danny opened his mouth to say that she was his sister, remembered that legally speaking Jazz was currently related to no one, and then shut his mouth with a frown. 

“If you require aid, we will assist.”

“I require you to get out of my house,” Danny said, jerking a thumb to point accusatively at Black Bat, “before you bring down the GIW on me. Please and thanks.”

He didn’t really expect much of a reaction. Black Bat had clearly been human-side for a while, she was well known in Gotham. If she had been worried about ghost catchers, she would have fled for the Infinite Realms through one of the pathways that theoretically still existed, or laid low. So she was going to scoff and roll her eyes.

Except that’s not what happened. Danny found himself the focus of two much harder, more suspicious stares. Black Bat slowly reached up and pressed a button. Turning off what, a camera? Danny drew away from her, alarmed. Was this a police brutality thing?

Robin saw the motion too. Danny could feel his confusion, but he copied his senior bat.

Ah, hell.

“Tell me,” Black Bat said, “about the GIW.”

[diremoone]

whipped cream apology | r. sukuna

fights are uncommon between you and your fiancé, but there are times they do happen. you know you’ll never hear a verbal apology come from him, but you know he’s sorry; Sukuna’s apologies always come in the form of gifts, food, or acts of service. this time is no different :3

w — modern au, chef! sukuna (he owns and works in his own restaurant but that’s not elaborated on), itsy bitsy sprinkles of angst bc of a mentioned fight, fluff, this is super duper short haha, food and food descriptions bc I am a woman who loves her food so sue me :3 this is just a random lil fic I wrote in like a day so i won’t be surprised if this flops lmao

[ divider credit to @/inklore ]

You don’t know how you go to sleep angry, but you do.

Last night had been awful. Maybe you’d blown everything a little out of proportion, maybe not. Your energy hadn’t been so great coming through the front door of your home. You’d just been stalked by a couple of guys that wouldn’t stop leering at you, and to top that off you had an old woman at the register of the store get ugly with you. All you wanted was the nice dinner you know would be awaiting you and to not be bothered for awhile after that.

Problem was, was that Sukuna was also in a bad mood. Someone at the kitchen of his restaurant had put him in a super bad mood by not following orders, and a food critic was to be coming by in a few days. And when you mixed his bad mood with yours, it led to you two going to bed on bad terms.

But now, you’re not even sure that Sukuna had come to bed.

Did that idiot sleep on the couch?

Just as you’re about to get out of bed, you see a note on the nightstand with your name on it. You grab it, unfold it and read: ‘Stay in bed and text me when you’re awake.’

Your sleepy brain goes blank for a moment, but you oblige your fiancé’s request anyway, texting him that you’re awake with a pink heart afterward, hoping he still wasn’t upset with you.

Sukuna’s answer is almost immediate.

Give me a few more minutes and I’ll be upstairs.

But you do need to pee really really bad. You make your bathroom trip as quick as possible and hop back in the bed, miraculously just as Sukuna comes through the door with a large tray of what you smell to be food.

“Morning, baby,” he greets you.

You can see the solemn look on his face, one of upset. He’s still bothered about last night.

“Morning, ‘kuna,” you reply, smiling at him. It seems to partially work, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

You flatten out the blanket as he sets the tray over your legs. Your eyes can’t help but blown open so wide in shock and excitement that you accidentally make them hurt. To your expression and blinking eyes, Sukuna chuckles.

“An apology, for my shitty behavior last night.”

There are several plates of food on the large tray. Perfectly cooked eggs, bacon, sausage; all of your favorite comfort foods all sit before you.

But right in the center is a heaping pile of one inch-thick, fluffy pancakes the size of your head, four stacked atop of another. Butter runs down underneath the sweet maple syrup. Neatly placed around the edges of the plate are bananas and strawberries. And on the very top is a generous pile of whipped cream in a fancy swirl.

You grin at his meticulousness of making such a wonderful plate that’s only just going to get messy.

“Sukuna—”

He scowls. “Don’t even bother me with apologizing back. I don’t wanna hear it. I’m the asshole. You did nothing wrong.”

Love swells in your heart and soul for the man you’re soon to marry. God, you love him.

“You’re sure?”

He tsks. “Positive.”

You smile brightly. “I love you.”

His cheeks and ears go pink. “Just eat.”

“Cheeseball,” you call him, cutting into the pancakes. “But don’t mind if I do.”

“If you can’t eat all of that, I’ll eat the rest.”

“Fuck off, it’s mine.”

taglist: (no longer adding)

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @yuujispinkhair | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

I Guess So

masterlist

summary: butcher is furious when he learns you’re a supe.

pairing: billy butcher x female supe!reader

rating: R for language

word count: 4.3k

warnings: language, butcher being a complete asshole, cancer

timeline: set in an au after season 3 — in a world where becca doesn’t exist and butcher got into supe-hunting when his sister went missing.

author’s note: when i reference the flash/barry allen i’m picturing grant gustin, not ezra miller lol

It was a quiet day in the office. Everyone was going through the several boxes of information on Vought that they had gathered at the last hospital they investigated.

“Jack pot!” Hughie exclaimed.

“What’d you find?” MM asked from across the room, head still down as he stayed focused on the box he was working on.

“There’s tons of names here of babies Vought dosed,” Hughie said. “And pictures of them now, looks like they were keeping tabs on the ones that didn’t go great.”

“Makes sense,” MM replied. “If one went off the rails they’d wanna know.”

“But why risk it?” Annie wondered out loud. “Why would Vought want these Compound V babies out there if they didn’t respond well to the serum?”

“Yeah, knowing Vought it’d make more sense to round ‘em up and put ‘em down,” Frenchie said.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Hughie’s eyes widened a little as his brows furrowed. “Uh, Y/n? Do you have a twin?”

“No, why?” you asked half-heartedly, buried deep in the box you were looking through. You had found some info on Temp-V and were hoping there was something in there that could help Butcher.

You were confused as to why Hughie hadn’t answered you so you looked up from your desk. Hughie was now standing at Annie’s desk as she read over the papers he’d just handed her. Frenchie and Kimiko looked up from their desks but didn’t bother going to see what all the fuss was about.

“Uh, MM,” Annie called him over. When he saw what Annie and Hughie were so freaked out over, his eyes widened.

“Holy fucking shit,” MM mumbled before he glanced at you. Annie tapped his arm a little and pointed at something written near the bottom of the page.

“What’s wrong you guys?” you asked, even though you had an idea about what they could be looking at.

You thanked your lucky stars Butcher had left to get lunch for the team, even though you knew you’d have to confront him about it at some point. It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t mean to keep it from him! But you were putty in his fucking hands and when he said he didn’t like Supe’s you weren’t gonna tell him what you had coursing though your veins. And after the ‘I love you’s had been said it seemed too late.

“Anything you wanna tell us, Y/n?” MM asked.

“Please don’t tell Butcher,” you said.

“‘Don’t tell Butcher’? Seriously, Y/n? You’re sure that’s what you wanna say?” Annie asked, silently begging you to just come clean.

“Don’t tell me what?” Butcher stepped into the office and you stood up quickly. “What’re you guys all looking at?”

He put down the food and took a few steps closer to where MM, Hughie, and Annie were. Before MM could move the papers around and help you keep your secret a little longer, Butcher grabbed what he was holding and started reading. By the time he finished, angered tears were forming in his eyes before he looked at you.

“You’re a fucking Supe?” Butcher asked you through gritted teeth. You stayed silent, completely frozen as he stormed over to you, papers still in his hand. “Fucking answer me!”

“Y-Yes,” you said quietly, unable to look him in the eyes as he towered over you. (He wasn’t that much taller than you, but right now you felt about two feet tall and didn’t dare look up at him.)

“What’s this mean?” He pointed to a note at the bottom of the pages. “‘Full power unknown’? ‘Extremely dangerous’?” he read. “What the fuck are your powers, Y/n?”

“Billy, please-”

“Oh, no, no, no! Don’t fucking dare Billy me! Answer the goddamn question!”

“I can sometimes run really fast,” you mumbled

“The fuck you mean, ‘sometimes’?”

“The Compound V in my system randomly acts up and I can run like the Flash. It’s always temporary, never lasts longer than a day or two.” (You could’ve used A-Train as an example instead of Barry Allen, but given your audience you made the right call.)

Butcher looked at you and for a second you thought he might just pull you into a hug as tears slipped down your cheeks as well as his.

“Fuck you,” he spat. “How dare you fucking lie to me, about this of all fucking things!”

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Sorry don’t fuckin’ cut it, love,” he said, teeth clenching again.

“Please, Billy I love you so fucking much!” You tried taking his hand in yours.

“No!” He pulled his hand back. “You fucking lied to me.”

“I had to! You said you hated Supe’s and I didn’t want you hating me!”

“Good job with that,” he scoffed, hurt flashing over your features. “Fuck you.”

He turned away from you before leaving the office, ignoring the others as they asked him where he was going.

**

MM was the first to talk to you about the whole ordeal; he went to your apartment that night to see how you were doing.

“Hey,” you said as you opened the door. He pulled you into a quick but tight hug.

“You could’ve told me, you know,” he whispered before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry about Butcher, has he talked to you since?”

“No,” you shook your head, “but he, uh, I think he’s done with me.”

“I’m sure he just needs time,” he tried to assure you as you both walked to the couch before sitting down.

“He came by and got all his stuff, MM,” you said. “It must’ve been right after he stormed out of the office because when I got home all his shit was gone and the key I gave him was on the nightstand.”

“Fuck,” MM mumbled. “I’m so sorry, Y/n.”

“It’s my own fault, I should’ve fuckin’ told him.”

“Yeah, but he’s always saying shit about Supe’s,” he countered. “He has to understand why you wouldn’t tell him.”

“But I’m not even technically a real Supe! When I’m not fast all I get is the bad side effects of Compound V—headaches, nausea, blurred vision—it fucking sucks!”

“I gotta ask, did Butcher really never notice?”

“He did, I just never told him the real reason. He was worried about my headaches and even asked me to see a doctor. I told him I did and they said it was nothing serious. I think that’s why he’s so mad at me; it’s not the Compound V, it’s the fact I’ve lied to him so fucking much.”

“I think he’s gonna get over it,” MM said. “I think he’s gonna realize how fucking miserable he is without you and just how happy you make him.”

You scoffed a little, “Don’t give me false hope.”

“I’m serious! You didn’t know pre-you Butcher! He was a complete asshole! Now? He’s… Well, he’s still an asshole but he’s not as annoying as he used to be.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.” He nodded. “I remember when I first caught on that he liked you; he’d try not to raise his voice, he’d make room for you to sit next to him on the couch, so many little things about him changed whenever you walked into the motherfuckin’ room.”

“He wasn’t like that before?” You smiled, feeling those familiar butterflies over the thought of Billy fucking Butcher having a crush on you.

“Never!” MM assured you. “You need to give him time and space right now, but I know he still loves you.”

**

The next morning you went to work, not knowing what else to really do. If Butcher didn’t want to see you, he didn’t have to come in.

When you got there and saw him at his desk (which was now moved a few feet further from your own) you knew you made a mistake.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Butcher asked.

“She’s part of the team,” Hughie said.

“Come off it! She fucking lied to all of us! She’s a fucking Supe!”

“And we get why she lied!” Annie came to your defense.

“A Supe defending another Supe, what else is new?” he grumbled.

“Butcher,” Hughie warned.

“Alright, let’s take a fuckin’ vote, how about?” Butcher suggested.

“Sure,” MM said. “All those in favor of Y/n staying on the team?” He raised his hand as Hughie, Annie, Frenchie, and Kimiko did the same.

“Five against one,” Frenchie commented.

“Supe’s don’t get a fucking vote,” Butcher said.

“Still three against one,” MM replied. “She’s staying on the team.”

“Butcher-” you started but he cut you off.

“Stay the hell away from me,” Butcher told you. “Don’t you fucking talk to me or touch me or even fucking look at me!”

**

It was a couple days later and you were pouring yourself a cup of coffee when Butcher walked up beside you, clearly wanting coffee as well. You decided you weren’t gonna move from where you stood in front of the little coffee station MM had set up a few months ago. If you stood your ground, Butcher would either have to ask you to move or push you out of the way.

He was getting impatient as you stayed and took a sip of your fresh cup of coffee. You let out a content sigh hoping it would further aggravate him and cause him to say something, anything to you—he’d managed to successfully give you the silent treatment since his angry voting speech.

“Get the fuck outta the way,” he said and you took a step to the side before he instantly went to pour himself a cup.

You were about to gloat a little but when you looked at his face you could tell he hadn’t slept the night before.

“How’d you sleep last night?” you asked, genuinely concerned as you furrowed your brows and turned to look at him more intently.

“Fuckin’ great, I didn’t have a Supe sleepin’ next to me,” he countered. “And don’t fuckin’ talk to me, if it was up to me you woudln’t still fuckin’ be here.”

“So you’d really be okay with me just getting the hell outta here? Never seeing me again?” you asked.

“Drop fuckin’ dead for all I care!” He shrugged a little and took a sip of his coffee before he finally turned to look at you.

“Huh.” You nodded, tears quickly flooding your eyes. “You know what,” you shook your head a little, “fuck you, Butcher.”

“What, now you bruise easy?”

“I have put up with so much shit from you. I have stayed with you through it all and I have proved to you time and fucking time again that I genuinely love and care about you. But this one thing you can’t let go? This one, stupid thing that was given to me without my fucking consent?”

“You lied to me, Y/n!”

“You’ve lied to me, too! You looked me in the eyes and said you weren’t gonna take Temp V then you fucking took it! And what did I do? I stayed up with you all fucking night as you hurled green shit into the toilet! Then you promised you wouldn’t take it again, but you did. And I was angry, but I loved you and I realized you were just doing what you thought was right so again I stayed with you as you puked. I even fucking kissed you after you barely rinsed your mouth out because I just wanted you to know I loved you!” You continued looking at him as his angered expression slowly softened. “And after you learned about the cancer?

“After you made me swear to just ignore it and act like you didn’t have a year to live? I stopped worrying about it in front of you. Instead I lost countless nights of sleep because I’ve been pouring through every bit of research Vought has on Temp V. I even managed to get files that only existed in physical copies kept at Vought Tower. I would’ve done anything for you Butcher because I thought you loved me too.

“The fact you can’t see why I felt I had to lie to you about the shit I’ve got pumping through my veins is ridiculous. And just so we’re clear—you can hate me all you want, but you better start acting fucking professional when we’re on the clock because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Did you have that whole speech planned just to try and get me to fold?” he asked, scoffing a little.

“Fuck you,” you said before brushing past him.

**

It had been nearly two weeks since Butcher and the others found out you were (kind of) a Supe. Everyone except Butcher had gotten over it by now and had even been asking you questions about your “powers”.

Hughie had asked you; “Can you tell when you’re able to run fast? Or is it you’ll be jogging and suddenly you’re miles away from where you meant to be?”

To which you had replied; “No, I can tell when I’m able to run fast; but I can’t predict when it’s gonna happen, you know? Like I have no control over it, I just sometimes know that if I were to try, I’d be able to go super fast.”

Kimko had asked you; “On the days you don’t have your powers, do you ever wish you did? Or are you relieved when you wake up and realize you don’t have them for right now?” (She had texted you while you were seated across from her.)

You had said aloud; “It tends to hurt on the days my powers don’t work. I get really bad headaches and sometimes they’re so bad that I actually puke. I’m happier on the days I can run, not because I’m fast, but simply because I don't have all the bad side effects.”

Butcher managed to ignore you since the coffee incident. He only ever spoke to you about work and never saw you outside the office. Not that you’d admit it, but you missed him like crazy. You hated sleeping without him, you hated waking up and only cooking breakfast for yourself, and you absolutely hated not being able to talk to him about all the random shit you two used to talk about.

He missed you too, though he never showed it. He was losing sleep over how he was treating you, but he figured you wouldn’t want him now. You both knew he only had a little over six months left (nine at most) and he wasn’t gonna go crawling back to you just to die. If he did, you would’ve welcomed him with open arms; wanting nothing more than to hold him while he ignored the inevitable.

**

“Everyone knows the plan?” Butcher asked the group, looking into the back of the truck from the passenger seat. “In and out, no fucking around and finding out what happens when we mess with this guy?”

You and the others beside you (Annie, Kimiko, Frenchie, and MM) nodded.

“I’ll keep the engine running,” Hughie said. “Once we see this guy leave you’ve all got twenty minutes until he’s back—but leave time for getting in and out, so safeside ten minutes.”

“Any questions? We all know what we’re looking for?” Butcher asked, earning nothing but nods. You raised your hand a little and he sighed with (what seemed like) annoyance; “What?” he asked.

“Uhm, not a question, more like a comment, my uhm, my powers just…turned on?” you told Butcher, and therefore the others in the car. “So just…”

“That’s actually great,” Hughie said. “Thank you for sharing, Y/n.”

“Whatever,” Butcher mumbled.

Another few minutes went by before the Supe left his house and you all broke in.

As everyone looked for what they came for (a file stolen from the office that detailed all the crimes this particular Supe had done with proof that would land him in prison) you noticed something strange in the corner of the living room.

“Is that a camera?” you exclaimed.

Before anyone could answer several shots rang loud through the house. Using your powers, you looked and quickly realized three bullets were headed directly for the back of Butcher’s head. He was looking under a desk on the other side of the room and if you didn’t hurry, he’d be dead in less than a second.

You ran and got between the bullets and Butcher; crouching down and letting them hit you square in the back.

“What the fuck!” the man holding the gun exclaimed. Before he could take another shot, Kimko tackled him and held him down.

Butcher looked at you, his eyes wide as you both realized what you’d just done. You looked down at your chest, fully expecting to be gushing blood.

“You’re fucking bulletproof?” Butcher asked, a sense of awe in his tone.

“I guess so.” You furrowed your brows a little, still looking down and not really believing you weren’t dying. As you stood up, the bullets fell off your back and onto the floor. “Wow,” you muttered, “I’m fuckin’ bulletproof.”

“You…” Butcher looked at you as he stood up as well. He put a hand on your shoulder, turning you so he could look at your back—three small holes in your jacket and shirt, but your skin unfazed. “You just…You were ready to die for me?” He turned you back and looked down into your eyes, keeping his hand on your shoulder.

“Well, I wasn’t about to let you die,” you mumbled, looking up at him. You then looked at his hand and smiled a little before looking back at him. You were prepared to make a snide remark about how he was suddenly willing to touch you, but you kept your mouth shut when you saw his eyes brimming with tears.

He wrapped one arm around your shoulders while the other went around your torso. It actually took you a moment to realize he was in fact hugging you but when you did, you put your arms around him too; one going around his shoulders, the other around his torso.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, closing his eyes to keep the tears from falling. “I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

“I forgive you,” you mumbled, reveling in the feeling of him holding you. You sensed he was about to pull away so you tightened your grip, not ready to let him go just yet, which caused him to do the same.

“I hate to break up this long-overdue hug,” MM said, “but I found the folder, we should take this guy in.”

“We’ll meet you in the truck,” Butcher replied, not opening his eyes or moving a muscle. “Cuff him.”

When everyone was out of the room, you whispered; “I really do forgive you, Butcher.”

“Thank you,” he replied, matching your tone. “Still can’t fuckin’ believe you risked your life for a guy who’s got about six months to live.”

**

That night you went to Butcher’s apartment and when he opened the door, he seemed surprised; “What’re you doing here?” he asked, letting you walk in.

“A couple months ago, I broke into the labs at Vought Tower and stole a shit ton of files they had on Temp V. I got the name of one of the doctors that helped make it, and I found his address. I was ready to threaten him to get him to find a cure for the Temp V side effects but when I explained my situation he said he’d help me willingly. He said he was actually already working on a cure without Vought knowing, because he felt insanely guilty about the fact Temp V kills people. He succeeded. He found a cure and he’s used it to make a new form of Temp V that gives you powers for a day while healing you and at the end of it, you should be back to your old self.”

“Wait, what?” Butcher furrowed his brows. “Why didn’t you tell me weeks ago you’ve been working with this guy?’

“One, I didn’t want to get your hopes up. Two, you told me to pretend you weren’t sick so we could enjoy the time we had left together. And three, he needed my blood for the new Temp V. Turns out I’m like the Ultimate Temp V Supe, and with my blood he was able to make the new serum. Also, I just came from his house, he perfected the new serum last night and texted me this morning. I was gonna come here tonight whether or not you wanted me near you, and I told the doctor if I didn’t meet up with him by the end of the week he should contact Hughie Campbell at Supe Affairs. I figured if something happened to me, Hughie would make sure you got the cure.”

“So…there really is a cure?”

You reached into your jacket pocket and took out the small bag containing a couple vials of the new Temp V and two empty syringes.

“It’ll either kill you quicker or you’ll be cancer free tomorrow,” you told him, handing over the bag before he looked inside. “You don’t have to risk it, but I wouldn’t be giving it to you if I didn’t one-hundred-percent believe it’s safe. If you don’t trust me, I understand and we can pretend-”

“Of course I trust you,” he cut you off. “And of course I wanna be fuckin’ cured, but this seems almost too good to be true?”

“I know.” You smiled. “The doctor tested it on himself and showed me the proof—he’s taken five doses over the last two weeks and he’s healthier than ever.”

“How long did he have powers?”

“Twenty-four-hours,” you said. “But he had the same side effects as the first Temp V; puking, headaches, all that shit. But, after everything, he was fine—no long term or deadly side effects.”

“If I take this…will you please stay with me while it lasts?” he asked quietly, not wanting to go through it all alone.

“I was planning to, whether you wanted me here or not,” you admitted.

“Thank you.”

You both sat down on the couch and you watched as Butcher took the serum, his eyes lighting up the same way they did before. He tossed the used syringe on the end table next to the couch and leaned back, allowing the serum to do its job and he could almost feel his strength come back.

“How’s it feel?” you asked.

“Fuckin’ hurts,” he said, “but I’m okay. It’s better than wastin’ away.”

“You can say that again,” you mumbled. “Can I scoot closer to you?” you asked, not wanting to be close unless he wanted you to be.

“Please,” he said and moved his arm to the back of the couch as you moved to sit right beside him.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, not really enjoying how quiet things had gotten.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he admitted. “I’m a fuckin’ idiot for how I acted, and you have every right to hate me, but thank you for not leaving when I told you to. Thank you for not walking out of my life for good.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Hm?”

“The only reason I didn’t leave was because I needed to know where you were when I got my hands on the cure. Once I knew you were healthy, I had planned to leave like you asked.”

He moved his arm from the couch and instead rested it on your shoulders; “Are you still planning to leave?”

“Only if you don’t ask me to stay,” you said honestly. “If you want to go back to the way things were a month ago, I’ll happily stay. But if you’re still freaked out about the fact I’m a Supe, I won’t bother you again once I know you’re okay.”

“Please stay,” he said. “I’m sorry about the shit I’ve said and done the past three weeks, but please stay.”

“Stay working at the bureau? Or stay…with you?”

“You can’t quit the bureau, you’re the smartest fuckin’ person there,” he said, making you laugh a little.

“I dunno, Hughie’s pretty smart too,” you teased.

There was another silent pause as Butcher thought of what to say. He couldn’t just ask you to take him back, that didn’t seem fair. He couldn’t just say he’d take you back, because that was even worse. He knew he fucked up big time, and any future the two of you had was entirely up to you at this point.

“Do you want to go back to the way things were?” you asked him quietly.

“I really, really do,” he whispered. “But I was too much of an asshole to deserve another chance with you.”

“After everything we’ve been through together, I’d rather just let all the shit we’ve done be water under the bridge, if that’s okay with you. Just let the lies we’ve both told slide and try to be more honest with each other from now on. Personally, I’ve got nothing else to hide and I know there’s nothing you could say or do that would make me stop loving you.”

“You still love me?”

“Of course,” you said. “Do you…love me?”

“Never stopped,” he mumbled. “And I’d really like all the shit to be water under the bridge too if you’re really willing to forgive me for everything.”

“So it’s settled then; all the stupid, fucked up things we’ve both done up until this point are forgiven and we can go back to normal?”

“I love you so much,” he said, smiling a little as he turned and kissed your temple.

“I love you too,” you replied.

[tommykinard6]

Buddie fans, my loves, come have a seat for a moment.

I want to have a chat, from a long time Buddie lover to you, whether you’re new or have been here a long time.

It’s okay.

I’ve been in the trenches with you. I’ve been pulling for Buck and Eddie to get together for years. I haven’t given up, even as I’ve seen other fans leave because they lost hope. I don’t blame them. The Buddie section of the fandom has been powerful and beautiful and all consuming. We’ve gone seven seasons and up until this point, not one of the two men in question was even confirmed to be queer.

But we all need to take a moment and breathe. That’s it. Stop doom scrolling for a moment and breathe in.

Good. Now hold for a moment.

And breathe out.

I’m going to get real here, alright? And you might not like everything I say and that’s ok.

We need to stop being a problem. Stay with me. I’m not saying we need to stop shipping Eddie and Buck. Far from it. I will love that ship forever. I’m not saying we need to stop our fanfics or fanart or our love for these two. Our feelings are valid. Many of us have been in love with these two for a long time. The Buckley-Diaz family is a strong unit.

Our feelings are valid and we feel what we feel. But our reactions are utterly and entirely our own responsibility.

We need to stop the bullying.

Let’s face it, many Buddie fans have also been long time bullies in the fandom. Particularly in regard to the actresses who have played the female love interests in the past. Don’t get me wrong, aside from maybe Ali, I have disliked every love interest introduced. But have we not yet learned to separate actress from character? If we are going to dislike an actress, let’s do it for a valid reason. Marisol’s actress for example is problematic. But many fans have rained hell down upon any woman introduced.

I’ve noticed this issue for a long time. But now we’re dealing with the issue being even more widespread because of Buck/Tommy. Now fans are bullying each other. The fandom is divided, even in what is probably one of the better seasons we’ve gotten (in my opinion). I need you guys to stay with me here.

Buck is bi.

Let’s say that again. Evan Buckley is bisexual. A major character on a major show on a major network, previously a womanizer and still a very masculine figure, is queer.

This is monumental. This is amazing.

But so many of you are letting your feelings about Buddie get in the way of appreciating the progress we’ve made. Especially with the reintroduction of Tommy Kinard, Buck’s love interest.

Let’s clear up a couple of things, shall we? Tommy Kinard is not Sal DeLuca. He is not Captain Gerrard. While he was part of the old 118 and definitely was in the old boys club, not only is he not the major problem, but in most cases that he’s an asshole, it can be traced back to his own secret. It’s not great, sure. But let’s look at the facts. Chimney is friends and still keeps in touch with him. Hen appears to hold no animosity and was clearly comfortable with him. In Bobby Begins, they all are friends. And clearly, Tommy has undergone a massive self-growth period. You cannot try to back up your point with inaccurate facts.

People can change. People can also be forgiven. It’s the prerogative of those involved. Enough said.

“But TK6,” you may say, “Buck should be with Eddie! Tommy is a plot device!”

Let’s set aside instant gratification culture really quick and talk about storytelling. You cannot get everything you want when you want it. You also cannot have your cake and eat it too. Buck and Eddie, if both queer, were never going to come out at the same time. Do we really want that?! Because identity is messy. Self discovery is messy. Eddie has Catholic guilt. Buck has self esteem/worth issues. Life isn’t a fanfiction. The real possibility of their relationship surviving such a transition isn’t all that high. IF Eddie is canonically queer, he’s going to have a rougher path than Buck has had.

Also, everyone is a plot device. Let’s get real. If a character doesn’t move a plot along, what’s the point? YES, Tommy is there for a storyline. That doesn’t in anyway invalidate his existence or his presence in Buck’s life.

If you want an instant Buddie storyline, visit ao3! There are amazing stories on there.

Now let’s talk about Buck/Tommy, or TEvan.

I am a long time Buddie lover. I also proudly ship TEvan. Yes, those can coexist. I don’t often multiship, but it’s a beautiful thing. I want Buddie to be endgame, sure! But I’m also okay if TEvan lasts. If they end up being endgame, will I be disappointed about Buddie? Of course. I will also be thrilled because Buck and Tommy are a sweet couple and I’m here for it.

As a queer woman, I’m happy that Buck is bi. Multisexual representation is still sorely lacking. Male sexuality that lets a man keep his masculinity while being queer? Even more so. Just take a look at the ao3 tag. Buck is emasculated in many fics. That’s why I stopped reading a lot.

We have a ship here that includes two very masculine men, who are emotionally vulnerable and exploring something new. I understand ship disappointment. But the negativity is wild. We need to stop the bullying. We need to stop the cheating storylines. We need to stop making Tommy into an ab*s*r only because we apparently can’t handle a love interest being a good person.

At the end of the day, these are fictional characters. It’s a fictional show. But these are real people. All of us are sitting here behind our screens with real feelings. We need to stop.

Buddie may one day happen. And maybe they won’t. TEvan might be endgame. They might not be. Tis the way of 9-1-1. It’s exciting, isn’t it? Waiting for something new and exciting. It was starting to get a little stagnant.

As a queer person, I’m not trying to gatekeep anyone. However, we cannot sit here and say “stop queerbaiting us!!!!” (They weren’t, we’ve always had queer representation on 9-1-1) “give us more representation” and then when they give it to us say, “NO! Not that way!”

If it was about the representation, it being Eddie or Tommy would matter a lot less.

So if you are someone using representation to shield yourself, kindly just be honest with yourself and everyone else.

In the words of our Lady and Savior Taylor Swift, “You need to calm down”.

Now, back off into the world of scrolling you go, my lovelies. Remember, keep an open mind and breathe. At the end of the day, it’s a show. But I for one will happily wait for every episode because I’m loving this.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Life's Too Short - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / GN!Reader

Length: 1.3k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Mentions of Toxic Work Environment; Shitty Coworkers; Crying; Angst; Career Change; Gender Neutral Reader; No Use of Y/N; No Physical Description of Reader

Summary: Your life has been completely taken over by your toxic job. Rooster gives you the support you need to leave it behind.

Master List

Driving to meet your boyfriend for dinner after work, you sniffled and tried to hold your composure. You didn’t want to spend your entire time with Bradley just ranting about the assholes who were currently making your life a living hell, but it felt like the second that you started talking about work, you couldn’t stop. 

Your whole life was just becoming consumed by it, and you just felt powerless to stop it.

Parking next to the Bronco, you got out of your car and walked down to where Bradley was waiting for you with a bag of takeout. He looked up and smiled when he saw you approach, but when he noticed your expression, he quickly stood up.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” you told him, trying to be mindful of how much energy you expended on work. Bradley reached out and gently grabbed your shoulders, causing you to look at him, still forcing yourself to try to hold it in. “I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not,” he insisted, which made your lips wobble. “What happened?” 

Breaking down and rambling in an octave that you weren’t quite sure was audible to the human ear, you collapsed against your boyfriend. Bradley wrapped you in his arms and gave you a squeeze, supporting you as you just let it all out, like the dam just burst. 

“And they just blow up at me for the stupidest little things while I’m busting my ass and working longer hours to get all of the work done and I just can’t do it anymore!” you sobbed, making Bradley’s hold on you tighten. “I’m so tired, Brad. I’m so fucking tired.” 

Bradley let out get it all out, simply giving you the support that you needed in that moment. Leading you down to the picnic blanket that he set out for the two of you, Bradley gave you a water bottle and continued to hold you until you stopped shaking. Pressing a kiss to your neck, he rubbed his thumb on your hip.

“I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to go back,” you repeated, burying your face further into Bradley’s chest. 

“So don’t,” Bradley stated, causing you to pick your head up.

“It’s not that simple,” you sighed, feeling your headache building. 

“Why not?”

“I need to make rent. And pay for food to eat and everything else.” 

“I know that, but . . . I’m really worried about you,” Bradley replied softly.

“I know,” you returned, causing Bradley to shake his head.

“I don’t think you do.” Gently nudging your chin up so that you looked at him, Bradley added softly, “Baby, I don’t want to see you like this every day. And I’m honestly more worried about the nights where you go home to your apartment without me.” 

“I’ve tried applying for other jobs, but it just hasn’t gone anywhere,” you reminded him. 

“I know that, but, Baby, I’m worried about you. You’re not yourself. You’re not living because you’re just consumed by this shit—and it’s not your fault. You need to get out.” He wiped your tears away gently. “How much do you have saved up?”

“Nothing crazy.” 

“Well, how many months do you think you could make it without a paycheck?” 

“I don’t know. Three?” 

“Alright, well, if you quit your job tomorrow, you have three months to find a new job. That’s completely doable.” 

“But what if it’s not?”

“You can move in with me,” Bradley stated, causing you to turn back to him. “I’ll support you.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that, Brad.” 

“Why not?”

“It’s . . .” you trailed off, trying and failing at coming up with a reason.

“It’s?” Bradley pressed, causing you to get emotional again.

“You’d really let me move in with you?”

“I want you to move in with me,” Bradley stated, giving your hips a loving squeeze. “I love you. And I want to see you happy and being your normal self. Life is too goddamn short to let those assholes break you down.”

You struggled to not cry again from the emotion of the moment. Wrapping your arms around Bradley’s shoulders, you pressed yourself against him, nearly knocking the two of you over. He pressed a kiss to your head as you buried your face in his neck.

“You win best boyfriend,” you joked, causing Bradley to scoff.

“Of course, I win best boyfriend. Who was my competition?” 

“I don’t know,” you mused, picking your head up. 

Cupping his cheeks, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips before resting your head on his shoulder again. You let out a breath, thinking through everything. Bradley gave you some space, occasionally rubbing your thigh or arm, but otherwise remaining quiet. 

“I’m going to do it,” you stated, digging your fingers into his shirt. “I’m going to finally do it.” 

~~~~~

Two Weeks Later . . . 

“Are you sure that there’s nothing that we can offer to keep you here?” your manager asked as you cleaned up your desk. 

“Nope,” you replied with fake niceness. “Thank you though.” 

Making sure that you had everything, you strutted past your asshole manager and the office bitches who terrorized you for too goddamn long. Well, all of the time that they used to scold you, send you passive aggressive or just outright aggressive emails, and mock you in front of your coworkers would now have to be used to do your job. 

And you may or may not have deleted or shredded all of the personal notes and guides for how to do your specific job. But what were they going to do about it? Fire you?

Walking out of the building with your head held high, you practically beamed when you spotted Bradley standing in the parking lot. He leaned back against the Bronco with his broad arms folded against his chest, looking like a dream. You put your bag and box in the trunk before nearly leaping into his arms. 

“You did it,” Bradley praised you as you pressed a kiss to his lips. 

“I did it,” you agreed, so excited. “I’m free.” 

“Let’s go celebrate then,” Bradley offered, pulling open the door to the passenger side for you. “Get in, Roomie.” 

Pressing one last victorious kiss to his lips, you slid into the Bronco. Bradley hopped in on the other side and started the car. Pulling away from the building that held a mountain of negative emotions for you for the very last time, you held your hands up and let out a cheer, causing Bradley to crack up. 

Grabbing your hand, he threaded your fingers together and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. When the two of you came to a stoplight, you leaned over and pressed an extended kiss to his lips. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

A.N. This was something I wrote right after work one day because I wish I had a Rooster to give me this kind of support.

[leiazsolo]

Regarding Tommy (AKA Stop hating him for the “Begins” episodes)

So I’ve been seeing a TON of hate for Tommy specifically because of his behaviour in the ‘Begins’ episodes and how he “shouldn’t be forgiven” so I’m getting fed up and decided to to a TIMELINE of Tommy & why we don’t need to be spoon fed his ‘redemption’ because we saw it across 10-ish years of flashbacks in the Begins episodes and can learn to understand that some stuff can just be implied with storytelling rather than treating the audience like babies and spelling it out for them. I will be starting with his first chronological appearance NOT his first on-screen appearance.

Starting Approx. 2005-2006 2x12 “Chimney Begins” now I’m not sure exactly what dates the episode here but google tells me it’s set around here, If I’m wrong let me know.

This was the big episode of Tommy being an asshole, I will not deny he was an asshole. He was one of the primary assholes of this episode along with the old captain. Let’s look at this episode with what we know about Tommy now, not what we knew then.

Tommy was a closeted gay man in a male-led, white-led field (presumably gay, we haven’t had his label yet) working under a captain we know is Homophobic, Sexist, and Racist. He also was a white man in a white male field back in 2005, prejudice was still a huge thing in 2005 (and still is but we’re not here to talk about that) and this episode shows this well, because it had to fit with the ‘times’. Tommy was an aggressor to begin with Im not going to deny this, but do you know who was also there, standing by and watching the rest of the 118 treat Chimney like shit for MONTHS? Eli! Yes lovey Eli who eventually helped get Chim into the field and let him stay with him in Boston. Yes he ended up being a good guy, but that doesn’t excuse the months he spent staying quiet watching the 118 mistreat Chim. You’ll see this theme pop up again later, funnily enough. Eventually we see Tommy and Chim become civil, after Chimney saves his life. He goes on to befriend Chimney, telling him his favourite movie is Love Actually (that’s fruity) amongst other things.

Fast forward to somewhere between 2009-2010 2x09 “Hen Begins” aka the next time we see Tommy chronologically and the first time we meet him in the show. We know a rough timeline as Sal says his girlfriend took him to see the new Twilight movie, and they reference the Edward vs Jacob, which means it’s most likely New Moon or Eclipse as that was more heavily a marketing thing for those two than the first one. This is also the first time Tommy is implied to be gay (He doesn’t deny the accusation and instead jokes about kissing Sal/Chimney) Now at this point in time I know this probably was not planned, but is something to look back at.

Tommy is this episode steps back from being an aggressor, he is still working under Gerrard and still closeted. He is still a part of the problem, but other than being present in the episode and in the scenes where Sal and Gerrard acted as aggressors, he didn’t actually contribute verbally to the mistreatment of Hen. The primary aggressor for Hen was Gerrard and remained to be Gerrard throughout the episode even when her co-workers saw her doing good things. And going back to Eli in Chimneys episode, guess who was also a bystander to Hens mistreatment, filling a similar role to Hen that Eli filled? CHIMNEY. He stood back for also presumably months, didn’t defend Hen against their co-workers, and just let what happened to him happen to her. Then, at the end of the episode it’s revealed multiple members of her team submitted complaints against their captain for the mistreatment of Hen, I’m willing to bet that he was one of those people, him, Chim, and even potentially Sal as he was less of an ass by the end. By the end of her episode we know they are now friendly at work and he thinks she’s a good firefighter.

Skip forward to 2014-ish, 2x16 “Bobby Begins Again.” We immediately see the team meshing, Chim, Hen, Tommy, and even Sal. 9 Years have passed since he met Chimney, and 4-ish since Hen and it’s implied they’re a friendly unit, Tommy is still closeted, and has been working under a rotating number of captains (six to be exact), but has clearly become a better, and more accepting person, the world is changing and he isn’t being held back with the times. He goes out for drinks with Hen & Chimney, laughs with them, has an overall good time being their friend and seeming enjoying working under Bobby for another 4 years, we even see them smash his face into a cake at a surprise leaving party they’ve thrown him. We know Buck took his place at the 118 which was not long before S1 began, so we’re assuming he left the 118 2017/2018.

This is the last time we see Tommy until 7x03, presumably set in 2023/2024 “Capsized”, a whole canonical 16-18 years after we first meet him, and 6 years since he left the 118. In those 6 years we know he:

A) is still friendly with Chimney, we know from 2x14 when he phones him to drop the fire retardant on the house. He is also mentioned to still be in contact in 3x16

B) Has come out/discovered his sexuality.

C) Is obviously not bigoted, or at least as much as he was back in 2005-ish.

In terms of Hen we can assume they haven’t really stayed “friends” since Tommy left, as she states in Capsized that she forgot he worked there. She worked with him for 8-ish years, I’ve worked with people for that length of time and don’t talk to them now, doesn’t mean I hate them, we just don’t really have reason to talk anymore. I just think their friendship was more a “we’re work friends” kind of relationship rather than a “we’re in each other’s lives” one, which is a completely normal and valid relationship. Whereas with Chim we know they’ve remained at least acquaintances to chat, and friends enough that Tommy would risk both his life and job to save Bobby.

At this point in the timeline it’s been approximately CANONICALLY 16-18 years since we met Tommy, and the fandom is still asking for his character to be held accountable for things he said all those years ago, when clearly in the canon of the show has been forgiven. At this point in the show I really don’t think we need to be spoonfed this narrative, it would feel clunky and weird to see an apology on screen for something that’s clearly been addressed off screen. It would frankly be a waste of the limited airtime we have this season.

I also think it’s super important to remember that Tommy wasn’t planned that far in advance, we know he was bought back by Minear because he wanted the person who was part of Bucks coming out to be someone the audience had already met before & Lou was both available and willing to do it. If they had been planning this exact storyline since season 2, maybe Tommy would have been portrayed differently, who knows.

I get we love Buddie and we want Buddie so much, I am not and never will jump ship from Buddie, I love that Tommy is Bucks first boyfriend, I just hope Eddie gets to be his last.

I’m also super glad we’re getting Bucks coming out separately from Eddies potential future coming out, I am on the (seemingly) small majority that thinks that would have been way too much to happen all at once, and also the characters deserve to have their own coming out stories not to be lumped together.

so yeah. TLDR; Tommy has evolved over 16-18 years, 10 years of which we saw across the Begins episodes, and if we want to be spoonfed his accountability for his behaviour in the begins episode, we should also be asking the same from Eli and Chim.