#rumple gets what he deserves

[jrob64]

Saying Goodbye and Moving On

An OUAT Canon Divergent fix-it fic

Here is my entry for CSSNS 2023, which was written to fix what I thought was a grievous wrong in the show. All of you need to know that I wanted to make @kmomof4 a co-author because she did so much to help me with this story, but she refused. Several tragic things were happening in my life while I was writing this story and she talked me through it - giving me ideas for the plot, encouraging me to keep going, checking it over when it was incredibly full of errors or didn't make sense, and just generally being the best friend and supporter I needed in order to finish it. On top of that, she created the gorgeous pic set you see at the top, with some manip help from @motherkatereloyshipper. Thank you so much, ladies! I love it!

Many thanks to @hookedmom who was my official beta once again.

SUMMARY: Killian has returned to Emma from the Underworld and they are starting to build their future together, when a ghost from his past suddenly appears, giving them the opportunity to right a few wrongs.

CHAPTER 1/1 - 5230 words

RATING: T

ALSO on Ao3 (I'm unable to post to ffn at this time)

*********

Storybrooke was peaceful for perhaps the first time since Emma Swan crashed into the town sign three years ago. The Underworld saga was behind them, Killian had returned in dramatic fashion, and no new villain had shown up in town…yet. Emma knew it was only a matter of time, but she was going to enjoy the calm after the multiple storms for as long as she could.

Gold was the Dark One again after negating Killian’s sacrifice, but he secluded himself in his Pawn Shop. Emma figured he was avoiding everyone in town because they were furious over him not letting go of the dark power. Even though Emma knew the Dark One couldn’t be killed, she wasn’t above putting a bullet in him for something as minor as jaywalking, given the opportunity. She could never forgive him for what he did to the man she loved.

Right now, that man was alive and well beside her, his arm flung over her hip and snoring softly in her ear. It had been nearly two months since he returned and she was still hesitant to let him out of her sight. The first few nights after his return, both of them were desperate to reacquaint themselves with the other’s body. Gradually, as the realization grew that Killian was truly back and nothing was going to threaten their blissful happiness, their lovemaking grew gentler and less frantic, but no less meaningful. Now, after their bodies were sated, they’d lay in each other’s arms talking softly before they drifted off to sleep, content in the fact that nothing would pull them away from one another again.

*********

Killian awoke with a jolt, heart thundering in his chest and breath coming in sharp gasps. Sitting up quickly, he closed his eyes, tilting his head back while he concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself, hoping he wouldn’t wake Emma. When his heart rate slowed down a bit, he opened his eyes and the blood in his veins froze.

He rubbed his eyes furiously, then cautiously opened them again. The image hadn’t disappeared. Hovering hazily in front of him was…

“Milah?” he choked out.

The specter’s pale eyes brightened and a slight smile crossed her face. Drifting closer, she opened her mouth to speak…

“Killian?”

Immediately, the ghostly figure disappeared. Killian blinked rapidly as he felt Emma’s hand on his back.

“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting up beside him.

“Oh, uh…aye,” he managed to say, still trying to get over the shock of seeing what was obviously the ghost of his former lover.

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

His head jerked around, searching her eyes to determine if she realized the accuracy of her statement. All he could see was concern in the green depths. “Aye, Love, I just…I’m having some trouble sleeping and I don’t…I don’t want to keep you awake, so…uh…I think I’ll spend the rest of the night on the Jolly, if you don’t mind,” he stammered.

A wounded look crossed her face so quickly, he wasn’t even sure he saw it. She schooled her features carefully before replying, “If you’re having nightmares, I can help you through them. You don’t have to handle them yourself, you know.”

He wiped a hand down his face. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt this woman who sacrificed so much to bring him home. He loved her more than he could express and owed her his very life. But after seeing the vision of Milah, he knew he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep that night and he didn’t know how to explain what had happened.

“I know, Love. I just…I think I need some fresh air.” Enfolding her in his arms, he rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m not pulling away from you, I promise. I’ll meet you at Granny’s tomorrow for breakfast, aye?”

“Yeah, okay,” she mumbled into his chest. “Call me when you get to the Jolly?”

“Of course.” He got out of bed and began putting on his clothes, feeling her eyes on him the entire time. When he finished, he turned back to see her still sitting up, the sheet wrapped around her. Moving to sit on the edge of the bed, he reached over to brush some wispy strands of hair away from her face. “Get some sleep, Darling. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She leaned in to kiss him, pressing her forehead to his for a brief moment afterwards. “Be careful on your way to the docks.”

“I will. Goodnight, Love.” After brushing her lips with his once more, he stood and began walking toward the doorway.

“Killian?” she called softly.

He turned. “Aye?”

“I love you.”

He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. “I love you, too, Swan.”

*********

On his way to his ship, Killian searched the skies for any sign of Milah’s apparition. He was torn about whether he wanted to see her ghostly image again. On the one hand, he was curious why she was here and wanted to talk with her to get some answers. Conversely, he was ready to move on with his life and his True Love.

He made it to the Jolly without any sign of the specter, but upon entering his quarters, he was met with the sight of her hovering over his bunk, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Milah!” he gasped. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Her eyes widened in horror as she continued to try, with no success.

“You can’t talk?” he questioned. She shook her head sadly, and seemed to shrink in on herself, floating toward the ceiling. “No! Don’t go!” he cried. “Please…stay.” He held out his hand in invitation, knowing she wouldn’t be able to physically take it.

Her eyes softened, her distress easing as she settled back down to eye level with him.

“But you can hear me, can’t you?” he asked, needing to clarify their connection.

She nodded and made a hand gesture urging him to continue speaking.

He sat in his desk chair and swiveled it to fully face her. “I don’t know how you’re here, but…I’m glad you are.” His comment made her smile. “Emma, she…she told me the two of you met in the Underworld, and that you helped her get to me when Hades had me chained up over the River of Lost Souls.”

Milah nodded again, giving him a small, tight smile.

“I’m truly sorry Hades threw you into that river before I had a chance to say goodbye.”

Anger flashed across Milah’s face and she shook her head vehemently.

“What is it, Milah?” He watched her making motions with her hands, pantomiming pulling her heart out of her chest. “Hades tore your heart out? No, that wouldn’t make sense because you were already…” He stopped short, unable to bring himself to say the last word.

Milah continued to make gestures showing her heart being crushed, then pointed to Killian’s hook.

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him. “The crocodile?” he asked incredulously. She nodded vigorously and he could feel the rage rising in him. “Was he the one who pushed you into the River of Lost Souls?” At Milah’s emphatic nod, he angrily jumped to his feet. “Not only did he take you from me the first time, he also doomed you to eternal torment and deprived me of a chance to give you a proper farewell! And now he’s the bloody Dark One again! Bloody fucking hell!” He spun in a circle, wanting to throw or hit something.

The specter of his first love drifted closer and reached out to stroke her palm over his cheek. He felt a cool sensation where her ghostly hand brushed past him, calming him instantly. He sat down on his bunk and she moved over to him, sadness mixed with compassion coloring her translucent features. “I’m so sorry, Love. I should have killed him long ago to avenge your…death. I never figured out a way to do it since the Dark One is immortal, and then I met Emma and I…I chose her over my quest for vengeance. I failed you, Milah…”

She brought her finger to her lip and shook her head to silence him. Then she placed her hand over her heart, before moving it to cover his heart. He understood her meaning and his shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, Love. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m very happy to have it.” He smiled gently at her for a moment before a startling realization came to him. “Milah,” he said, confusion infusing his words. “How… how are you here?” He stood quickly, not knowing what to think. Could he still be dreaming? Milah shouldn’t be here. She couldn’t be here. This had to be a trick of some kind. Was Gold behind it? Had Hades found some way to return?

Alarmed recognition crossed her face and she reached for him. He stumbled back away from her and she made no further move toward him. In an effort to help him understand, she placed both hands on either side of her head, fingers pointed straight up. She moved them up and down in short, sharp movements that reminded Killian of Hades when his hair erupted into blue flames.

“Hades?” he asked tentatively.

She nodded furiously, her face lighting up with his understanding of her motions. She drew a single finger across her neck in a motion he had no trouble interpreting.

“He’s gone forever, right?” Killian asked. When she continued nodding, Killian felt excitement and hope rise within him. “When he was vanquished, was your soul released from the river?” It was more than he could possibly hope for, but her joyous visage and nod confirmed his speculation. Relief completely enveloped him and he moved closer to her, holding his hand out again. This time, she reached out for him as well. He felt a chill that somehow felt warm at the same time as her hand passed through his. “Oh, Milah,” he breathed. “I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”

Milah smiled gently at him then floated over to his bed and patted the space beside her. He sat down and saw her gesture for him to talk. Taking a deep breath, he launched into the tale of his life after losing her.

*********

Emma was unable to go back to sleep after Killian left. He’d had plenty of time to make it to his ship, yet he hadn’t called her as promised. She was well aware he would have a lot to work through after everything he’d experienced. Becoming the Dark One, dying and going to the Underworld, being tortured by Hades, reuniting with his brother Liam, only to have to say goodbye to him again, not to mention being separated from his True Love, before being sent back to the land of the living by Zeus.

She was willing to give him all the time he needed, but tonight, something was amiss. She could sense there was more to his abrupt departure than simply a desire to get some fresh air. His eyes were…haunted, fearful. She couldn’t help but wonder what he wasn’t telling her.

Sighing heavily, she shoved back the covers and got out of bed. Something was troubling the man she loved and she was determined to help him through it.

*********

Emma drove slowly through the streets of Storybrooke, scanning every street and alley, but didn’t catch sight of Killian. Parking at the docks, she was relieved to see his ship was still in the usual berth. She hadn’t thought he would take the Jolly Roger out to sea this late at night, but she knew how sailing calmed him, so she wouldn’t have been surprised to find the space empty.

Killian wasn’t on the deck, gazing at the stars - another activity that always brought him peace. Emma quickly crossed the polished surface, descended the steps taking her below deck, and walked down the narrow hallway, stopping outside the captain’s quarters. As she reached for the door handle, she heard Killian’s voice and paused. It sounded like he was carrying on a conversation with someone. She didn’t want to invade his privacy, but curiosity won out and, in spite of herself, she listened.

“...that’s when I found out Bae had a child with Emma - a boy named Henry. Yes, I know. It came as quite a shock to me, as well. By that time, I was already intrigued by Emma, and also very attracted to her. I hope you don’t mind me talking about her. She’s my True Love and I owe her so much. She’s the one who made me want to give up my fruitless quest for revenge in order to be someone worthy of her love.”

Emma took a step closer to the door, hoping to hear the other person to identify him…or her. Her mind raced as she waited. Nearly everyone in town knew that Henry was Neal’s son, so who could it be?

“I wish you could meet Henry. He’s a wonderful lad - intelligent, kind and brave. Bae would be so proud of him.” There was a long pause before Killian resumed. “He, uh, he died trying to warn the town about a villain. He visited Emma before she went to the Underworld and told her he was in a place where he was happy. Perhaps you’ll be able to take care of your unfinished business and join him there.”

Emma’s brows furrowed. He was talking to someone with unfinished business? Someone who might be able to join Neal, which would mean they were dead…

Suddenly, it dawned on her who it had to be, but how was it possible? Milah had been thrown into the River of Lost Souls. There was no way she could be here talking to Killian. Emma’s mind swirled with doubts. Maybe he needed someone to talk to and couldn’t trust her, so he was talking to the memory of Milah instead.

  Unable to quiet the negative voices in her head, Emma grasped the door handle, and after a brief moment of hesitation, pushed inside the cabin.

Killian looked up when he heard her enter, his startled look turning to one of chagrin. “Swan? What are you doing here?”

“I…I was worried when you didn’t call,” she said, looking around the room and seeing no one. “Killian, who were you talking to?”

Killian glanced beside him, where Milah still hovered. “I was…” Turning his eyes back to Emma, he asked, “Can’t you see her, Emma?”

Emma’s brows furrowed. “The only person I see here is you. Were you…it sounded like you were talking to…to Milah.”

He stood, casting a quick look at his first love, then moving to stand in front of his True Love. “Aye, Love. Milah is here, in this room. Her spirit is, at least. She appeared to me in your bedroom and that’s why I left so abruptly. When I reached the Jolly, I found her here, too. I don’t understand why I can see her and you can’t.”

Emma closed her eyes, her heart pounding. If he was telling her the truth - and her lie detector was silent, confirming his words - then Milah was haunting him, no matter where he went. How was she supposed to deal with that?

Tilting her head, she sensed something different about the atmosphere in the room. Breathing in deeply, she caught a whiff of…

“Killian, did Milah smell of lilacs?” she asked, her eyes opening to focus on him. A shocked expression crossed his face.

“Aye, Love. She…she always wore lilac water. I purchased it for her every chance I got. How did you know that?”

“I can smell it, and I feel a…a presence. Can she talk?”

Sadness filled his eyes. “No, she can hear me, but she can’t speak. She has been able to communicate, though. She…she told me it was Gold who threw her into the River of Lost Souls and that she was released when Hades was defeated.”

“Gold did that to her?” Emma spat. “That bastard! I’m already furious over what he did to you and this just adds fuel to the fire! Dark One or not, someday he’s going to pay for all the evil things he’s done, and I, for one, am not going to be sorry about it!”

Killian stepped forward to squeeze her hand, his eyes flicking up behind her. “I think Milah likes you, Love,” he grinned.

“Why do you say that?”

“She’s right behind you, smiling and clapping her hands.”

Emma’s cheeks reddened. “We got to know each other a bit in the Underworld. I liked her, too.” She looked thoughtful. “There has to be some way to allow her to talk to us. Remember when we used that double-ended candle to try to talk to Cora?”

“Aye, but the candle had to be lit over a person’s heart before they were killed in order to use it to communicate with that person’s spirit,” Killian reminded her.

Emma sighed. “That’s right, I’d forgotten that detail.” She chewed on her lip in thought, before speaking again. “I’ll go talk to Regina. There has to be a way.” She pulled her hand out of his and turned toward the door.

He caught her arm with his hook. “Perhaps you should wait until morning, Darling. I doubt the queen will be very amenable to helping us if you wake her in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot what time it is,” she admitted. “I, um, I guess I’ll just go home for a few hours, then. Are you…will you stay here?”

Killian glanced to his right before answering. “I still have a lot I want to share with Milah and I don’t know how long she’ll be able to stay here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Emma gave him a weak smile. “No, I understand. Do you want to come with me to talk to Regina in the morning?”

“Aye, Love.” He pulled her into his embrace. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Okay, I’ll come by and pick you up around seven,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

He put enough distance between them to be able to cup her chin in his hand. “Be careful going home, my love.”

“I will.” Leaning up to whisper in his ear, she asked, “Do you think she would mind if I kissed you?”

He gave a low chuckle. “I’m sure she won’t. She knows we’re True Love.”

She combed her fingers through the hair above his ear. “This is a weird situation, you know that, right?”

He nodded with a lopsided grin and leaned in to share a lingering kiss with her.

“See you in the morning,” she said when it ended, then added, a bit louder, “Goodbye, Milah.” After brushing his cheek with her lips one more time, she turned and left the cabin.

*********

Once Regina heard Emma and Killian relate the events from overnight, she sat behind her desk in the mayor’s office pursing her lips in thought.

“Can you explain why Killian is able to see her, but I can’t?” Emma asked.

“I’m not sure, but my guess would be it’s because Killian is Milah’s unfinished business,” Regina stated.

“That makes sense,” Emma agreed. “I can feel her presence, though.”

“Have you any ideas for how to talk to her?” Killian inquired.

Regina considered for a moment. “Using the enchanted candle to talk to her definitely isn’t an option. The phone booth in the Underworld was a way for the dead to communicate with the living, but we don’t have anything like that here. You obviously don’t want me to ask Gold for help, or Belle for that matter.”

“Absolutely not,” Emma said emphatically.

“We don’t want the crocodile to know that Milah has made an appearance,” Killian added angrily. “If I had my way, I’d send the bloody bastard back to the Underworld, never to return. Hades wasn’t the one who threw Milah into the River of Lost Souls. It was Gold. He needs to pay for what he did. It wasn’t enough for him to kill her in front of me in the first place, but he had to sentence her to eternal torment, as well.”

Regina’s eyes widened in surprise. She didn’t know all the details of what happened between Rumplestiltskin and Killian Jones, but she could certainly understand Killian’s anger and wanting to make sure ‘the crocodile’ paid for what he’d done. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about Gold. If you recall, he’s the Dark One and can’t be killed, no matter how much all of us would like to see it happen. Now, let’s focus on the problem of how to communicate with Milah. Do you have any idea how long she will be haunting you, Hook?”

Killian shook his head sadly. “No, but I have a feeling it won’t be very long. From the first time I saw her until she left this morning, her form had already faded substantially.”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Regina said, walking around the front of her desk and crossing her arms. “I know she probably didn’t come through a portal from the Underworld to get here, but I wonder if being close to one will give her more strength and help her be able to speak.”

“You mean the one in the duck pond?” Emma asked.

“Do you know of any other?” Regina snapped, her sarcasm in full force.

Emma chose to ignore her snark. “I think it would be worth a try to see if she’ll join you there, wouldn’t it, Killian?” At his nod of affirmation, she added. “How would you feel about Henry being there? If Milah is able to speak, he would get to talk to his grandmother.”

“I think that’s a grand idea, Love. I told her about him and what an exceptional lad he is, and I’m sure she would appreciate the chance to see for herself.”

“Is that alright, Regina?” Emma asked.

“Of course. I don’t think he would find meeting the spirit of his grandmother any more disconcerting than any other adventure he’s experienced since he brought you to town. He planned to spend the day at my house playing video games. I’ll pick him up and meet the two of you at the pond.”

“Do you think Milah will find you there, Killian?”

“She found me at your house and on my ship, Love.”

“Good point. Well, let’s see if this works,” Emma said, taking his hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze before they headed out the door.

*********

Returning to the place where Emma was forced to run Excalibur through Killian was difficult for the couple. As they drew near the exact spot where it happened, Killian heard her breath hitch and he tightened his grip on her hand.

Regina and Henry arrived a few minutes later and joined them at the edge of the duck pond.

“Mom says Grandma Milah appeared to you, Killian,” Henry said excitedly. “Is she here now?”

“Not yet, lad,” Killian said.

“We’re not sure she will be, Henry,” Emma said.

“Yeah, Mom explained that to me. She also said Grandma can’t speak, but I’m still glad you wanted me to be here.”

They waited for several minutes, as Killian scanned the skies for any sign of Milah’s ghost. The only sounds heard were the birds in the trees and the occasional quack of a duck swimming past, until Killian declared softly, “She’s here, right over the center of the pond.”

“I was going to ask if she was,” Emma said. “I thought I felt her presence.”

“There is definitely a stirring in the atmosphere,” Regina remarked.

“Is she trying to say anything?” Henry asked.

“No,” Killian answered, “she’s just watching us.” Suddenly, the water in the pond began rippling as a breeze blew across it. “Hello again, Milah. Someone is here to meet you.” He stepped over behind Henry, putting his hand and hook on the boy’s shoulders. “This is Henry, Baelfire’s son.”

“Hi, Grandma,” Henry said, his eyes darting back and forth across the sky. “It’s nice to…kind of…meet you.”

“She’s smiling at you, lad,” Killian assured him.

“I wish I could see you. Were you the one who churned up the water?” Henry asked. In response, a stronger breeze blew, causing small waves to form in the duck pond. “That’s a cool trick, Grandma!” he laughed.

A chilly wind swept past the group, rustling the leaves on the trees. “Is Milah doing that, too?” Emma whispered.

“Aye,” Killian answered, his eyes following the movement of the specter only he could see. “Something seems to be distressing her.”

“I think I see the source of her agitation,” Regina remarked, her brow furrowing in concern. “Here comes Gold. He must have sensed a supernatural disturbance, too.”

The man came stumping up the path, slowing as he took in the scene before him. Seeing the group assembled by the pond, he asked, “What are you all doing here? Are you trying to cast some sort of…” His words came to a stop as his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise. “M-Milah?”

Another rush of cold air swept past them, strong enough this time to shake the tree branches and increase the turbulence of the water. “Seeing him has made her extremely angry,” Killian explained.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Regina remarked.

The wind kicked up even more, causing dust and debris to swirl around them. It seemed to center on Gold, making him duck down and cover his head. “Get away from me, you vile woman!” he screamed. “You’re supposed to be in the River of Lost Souls!” At his confession, the wind picked him up bodily and slammed him to the ground, stunning him as he hit his head on a rock.

“And YOU’RE the one who threw her into it!” Killian shouted.

Gold raised his hand to his head, wiping at the blood over his brow. Suddenly, it was if something grabbed him by the ankles and began dragging him toward the pond. “NO! NO!” he screeched, attempting to crawl back up the path.

“Grandpa!” Henry yelled.

There was a loud whooshing sound and they turned to see a vortex rising up out of the water, the force of it beginning to pull Gold toward it. He continued to scream his protests, his fingers scrabbling in the dirt as he was dragged backwards. They watched incredulously as he flew past them, too quickly to even attempt to grab him.

He was caught up in the vortex, which spun across the surface of the pond. Emma gasped as she spotted something moving behind the trees. “It’s Charon’s boat! Why is it here?”

“Gold is tethered to the Underworld through his blood,” Regina explained, shouting to be heard over the tumult. “The blood from the gash on his head must have gotten into the water and summoned Charon.”

The four people on shore watched the furiously swirling waterspout until it reached the boat, where it suddenly disappeared, depositing the helpless Dark One in a heap in the middle of the vessel.

Gold’s blood curdling screams echoed through the air as Charon guided the boat toward the portal to the Underworld. The moment it passed from view, his cries were silenced and they knew he was gone.

“Look!” Henry cried, pointing at the sky.

Emma, Killian and Regina turned to see a black vapor in the shape of the Dark One’s dagger hanging over the pond. As they watched, it dissipated, completely disappearing within seconds. “Does that mean what I think it means? What I hope it means?” Emma asked.

“No more Dark One? The Darkness is gone forever?” Regina questioned, turning back towards the others.

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means and now I can finally be free,” a serene voice said from behind them.

“Milah!” Killian gasped. “You can speak!”

“Rumple silenced me when he threw me into the river,” she explained. “Now that he’s gone, he has no power over me, or anyone else, for that matter.”

“I’m sorry you lost your grandfather like that, kid,” Emma said, putting her arm around Henry’s shoulders to comfort him.

“Yeah, me too, but he had a lot of chances to give up the power of being the Dark One and he never did. He loved power more than he loved me, Belle, and even my dad, so I guess he deserved what he got.”

Killian patted him on the back, then looked at the specter hovering in front of them. “You did it, Milah. Everything he ever did to us has now been avenged,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“Yes, it has,” Milah said, her voice sounding much thinner. “My time here is drawing to a close, so I have to say my goodbyes.” Killian watched as a wide smile spread on her lips. “I can see Killian was right when he told me how special you are, Henry. I just wish I had more time with you. When I move on, I will tell your father what a fine young man you became.”

“Tell him…tell him I miss him,” Henry said.

“I will,” she promised.

Emma stepped up beside Killian and stretched up to kiss his cheek.“We’ll give you a chance to say goodbye,” she whispered. “I’ll be home if you want to come by afterwards.”

He nodded and watched her walk away with Henry and Regina. Turning back to Milah, he saw her translucent form was fading quickly. “I’m very happy I got the opportunity to bid you a proper goodbye, Love.”

“So am I. Oh, my love, I’m glad we were able to have so many wonderful adventures together.” Her voice grew so faint, he had to listen intently to hear her. “ Emma is good for you, Killian. It’s wonderful that you’ve found love again and you’re finally moving on. I can see that you’re really happy.” She paused for a moment, then- if it was possible for a ghost- she sighed. “I’m your past and she’s your future.”

“You’ll always have a place in my heart, Milah. You were my first love.”

“Yes, and I will always love you, but Emma is your True Love. You deserve happiness with her.”

“And you deserve peace. I hope you find it.”

“Now that all of my unfinished business has been taken care of, I’m sure I will.” Swooping down, she brushed her nearly invisible fingers across his cheek. “I must go now. Goodbye, my love.”

“Goodbye, Milah.”

He stood transfixed, staring at the sky for several minutes after her form disappeared. The sadness he had carried in his heart for so long over the loss of Milah, was replaced with relief and joy.

Finally, he turned and began walking back to town, where he knew he would find Emma waiting.

He saw her sitting on the steps of her house when he stopped in front of the gate. Looking up at him, a warm smile crossed her face, and he returned it with one of his own. Stepping through the opening, he moved toward his future.

*********

Was I the only one who thought Gold should have been held accountable for what he did to Milah? Or that Killian should have had the chance to say goodbye to his first love? Please let me know how you felt about it.

Special thanks to the people who have held the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event for many years now. It's always a lot of fun!

And thanks to all of you for reading, commenting and reblogging!

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[constantvariations]

Okay so, I like that Professor Rumpel is both Rumpelstiltskin and the miller's daughter-turned-queen, and that her weapon invokes the spindlewheel from the tale, but the guessing of the name is so utterly lazy that I could chew glass

Spoilers for Before the Dawn btw

It literally comes out of nowhere. There is no buildup to the mystery of Professor Rumpel's name; she just randomly says at the start of the fight that if Fox, Neptune, or Yatsuhashi can guess her name that she'll let them go chase the Crown

It would have been so easy, too! Just have it be Rumpel's game whenever the students want something. Late to class and don't want extra homework as punishment? Guess her name and you're free. Got caught getting handsy in an inconvenient spot? Guess her name and she'll let you off with a warning. Hell, have some of the staff lean into it for comedy and comradery

This would naturally set up why Rumpel would offer an easy out to the fight and establish how steep a demand that is for our heroes. If no one's guessed her name in the many years she's been at Shade, what hope do they have of figuring it out in the next five minutes?

But, no. We get zero setup and the payoff doesn't even land! They guess her name and Rumpel attacks Neptune anyway. Right in front of the whole school, including Headmaster Theodore! In what world does that make sense? I get that she's desperate, but it feels contrived so Yastuhashi can do his thing and accidentally break the mind control

These books honestly read like a first draft of a story that really could've been something if more time and attention had been given. Rwby in a nutshell, eh?

[futuristicallyshadowyface]

Idk if it's an unpopular opinion or nah since I don't really interact with the ouat fandom but fuck I hate Regina, and when I say that I do not mean the Evil Queen. Her as an unforgivable cesspool of hatred and vengeance was the best, I fucking love it and live for her being evil. I get the story is limited with heros and villains but my god I hate when she becomes good and people just forgive her. Hate her!! She ruined ur guys lives in so many ways and would have done worse given the chance! I love her being evil and rotten, but then they downgraded her! 😭😭

[pickingupmymercedes]

R for Roscoe, C for Coco - Lewis Hamilton

Quick Dog Dad Special

request: "All those posts about Lewis on "happy fathers day daddy" are sending me crazy, please do them justice" - anon 1 & "Bestie, Lewis deserves a special fluff for father's day with Roscoe" - anon 2

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Late for the Father's day special because I was with my dad celebrating yesterday (thanks dad for the f1 love). But happy father's day to our favorite dog dad!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The key felt ridiculously heavy in her hand, the exhaustion after the travel nightmare finally catching up. She fumbled with the lock, cursing silently when she fumbled the key twice. Finally, the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit living room and the sound of a sleepy snore from the general direction of the couch.

"Roscoe?" she called out cautiously, her voice barely a hoarse whisper. A flurry of dark fur erupted from the shadows, tail wagging furiously. Roscoe launched himself at her, showering her ankles with grateful licks.

"Hey boy," she managed, patting his head as a wave of relief washed over her. She had finally made it. Forty-eight hours of travel hell, a cancelled flight, a twelve-hour layover in rain-drenched Atlanta, and here she was, in the middle of Lewis' LA home, greeted by the overly enthusiastic bulldog.

Suddenly, a sleepy voice came from the corridor. "Y/n? Is that…?" The voice trailed off, and a rumpled Lewis emerged into the dim light, eyes squinting in surprise. "What the hell…"

Before he could finish his question, Roscoe, oblivious to the tense atmosphere, decided to greet Lewis as well, leaping onto his leg and nearly knocking him out of balance.

"Roscoe, down!" Lewis managed to say, pushing the dog gently aside. He looked at her, his face a mixture of confusion and barely contained amusement as he took her in. She was a mess, clothes rumpled, hair a tangled disaster, and a tiredness etched on her face that spoke volumes.

"Hey," she managed, mustering a weak smile. "Sorry, I… uh…"

The flood of apologies died in her throat as Lewis saw it. It was the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped with defeat, that stopped him from unleashing the barrage of questions he had been building up over the past two days.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than expected, offering his hand. "What happened?"

She didn't resist, burying her face in his chest, feeling the tears of frustration and exhaustion welling up. "It's been a nightmare, Lew. I booked the wrong flight, then had a layover in Atlanta that got delayed for hours because of the rain. I've been traveling for nearly two days."

Lewis guided her to the sofa, his hand soothingly rubbing her back. Roscoe curled up at their feet, still wagging his tail, happy to have them together.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lewis asked softly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"I wanted to surprise you," she mumbled; her voice muffled by his shirt. "I thought I'd get here Friday afternoon, and we could have a whole weekend together before the races are back."

Lewis pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration and tenderness. "You should have told me, babe. I would never have left you stranded in Atlanta for 12 hours."

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I just... didn't want to ask for help and ruin the surprise."

Lewis shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "You're here now, that's what matters. Let's get you cleaned up and into bed."

She nodded, allowing him to help her to her feet. She felt the weight of the past 48 hours lifting slightly as she made her way upstairs with Roscoe attached to her feet. After a long, hot shower, she finally felt somewhat human again, slipping into one of Lewis's oversized shirts and crawling into bed with Roscoe.

As Lewis got into bed with a tray of food in hand and his little family finally under one roof, the clock chimed midnight. She let out a small, defeated laugh. "All that, and I lost the cute balloon I had for you."

Lewis raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Balloon?"

"For Father's Day," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper. "It had 'Dad Dog' written on it. I wanted to surprise you."

Lewis stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. "You went through all this trouble just for Father's Day with Roscoe?"

She nodded, feeling a mix of amusement and love. "Not just for that. I also wanted to spend time with you. Just us before we get swarmed by F1."

Lewis's laughter softened into a warm smile, his eyes glinting with his love for her. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

She smiled back, feeling the last of her tension melt away. "In a good way, I hope."

"A bit, well, a lot, chaotic, but definitely the best kind" he assured her, pulling her close. "Now get some sleep. We still got a whole day of just us. You, me and Roscoe."

The morning sunlight filtering through the curtains woke her gently. Lewis was still asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Roscoe, sensing her awake, nudged her hand with his wet nose, his tail thumping a happy beat against the mattress.

She stretched, the soreness from her travels slowly fading. She glanced at Lewis, a wave of tenderness washing over her as she saw him relaxed and peaceful, free from the pressures of carrying the weight of the world.

A memory jolted her awake. The gift. The "Dad Dog" charm was still tucked away in her purse, lost in the chaos of the previous night. Carefully, she slipped out of bed and retrieved it, tiptoeing downstairs with Roscoe right behind her.

She poured herself a cup of the freshly brewed coffee, the aroma filling the air with a familiar comfort. Pulling out the small velvet box, she placed it on the kitchen counter, right where Lewis would see it when he came downstairs.

A few minutes later, Lewis appeared, a sleepy smile on his face as he appeared in his boxers. He stretched, his eyes landing on the box on the counter. He walked over, a curious expression on his face.

"What's this?" he asked, picking up the box.

"A little something extra," she said, a teasing smile on her lips. "I know it's not really the best balloon ever made, but…"

Lewis didn't let her finish. He opened the box, revealing the silver charm nestled inside. A glint lit up his eyes as he inspected the detailed charm with a tiny R and a C for Roscoe and Coco.

"Y/n, this is incredible," he said, his voice filled with excitement. "It's perfect. But really, having you here is the best part. Thank you for coming," he whispered as he enveloped her in his arms, his voice filled with sincerity. "It means the world to me."

She squeezed his hand. "I'll always find you, even if it takes a global nightmare to get me there."

"Next time, though" Lewis said, his voice a low rumble against her ear, "let me know if you're stuck mid surprise trip across the Atlantic. Maybe I can help."

Y/n chuckled. "There wouldn't be much of a surprise then, would there?"

Lewis playfully kissed her cheek as he chuckled, reaching for Roscoe by their legs to show the bulldog his new charm.

The travel nightmare, the missed flight, the long layover – it all seemed insignificant now. Sometimes, even the most unexpected detours could lead to the most beautiful destinations. And all that mattered at the end was that she was here, with Lewis and Roscoe, their little clan finally reunited.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

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[sanguineterrain]

Could we please get a drabble in which Jason and his partner have a fight and the partner walks out of the apartment to cool off and doesn't think the fight was something detrimental but Jason is actually terrified his relationship just ended?

anon?? are we sharing a mental connection?? i literally had this thought a month ago 😳 it fits him so well too :(

jason todd x gn!reader. tw fighting, jason thinks you broke up with him, misunderstandings, happy ending.

****

"You're not being fair."

You scoff, and pinch the bridge of your nose.

"Fair? This is what couples do, Jason! God, I'm not saying we have to go out with other couples every week, but can't we do it at least once in a while? What's wrong with going to one wedding?"

Jason scowls from the kitchen. His arms are crossed, jaw tensed. "Why aren't you happy with just going out together? You're not in a relationship with your friends."

"Because it's good to do new things, and you're someone I want my friends to meet. And I want to meet your friends too!"

"My friends are aliens and Roy. You don't wanna meet them, trust me."

"Yes, I do, Jason. Don't tell me I don't. And I know this relationship is new for both of us, but I don't want it to be that we never go out with people, never meet each others' friends. You don't even have a good reason not to go!" you say.

"I do have a good reason," Jason says. "We don't know them."

"I work with the bride! She's not a criminal—"

"We don't need to go to someone's wedding we don't know," he continues. "Too many variables. Too many things could go wrong."

You shake your head. "That is so ridiculous, Jason. It's not spycraft, it's a wedding!"

"I said no," Jason says sharply, like he's handling a Crime Alley thug.

You take a deep breath.

"Okay." You close your eyes. "This isn't going to work. I need some air."

You grab your wallet and keys and walk out of his apartment. The train station is only a block from where you are; you'll go to the city square, have some lunch, and go back after a few hours. Jason doesn't respond well when he's pushed.

****

It's close to 5pm when you get back to Jason's apartment. He hasn't texted you, but you didn't expect him to; no contact is best for a few hours anyway.

You unlock the door. The apartment is dark.

"Jay?" You put your things down on the side table. "Jason? You here?"

Had he gone on patrol already?

There's a bump in the bedroom, then the door creaks open.

Jason stands in the doorway, clothes rumpled. You turn on a lamp, and he squints. His eyes are red; the skin of his lips are chewed up. He blinks at you, shoulders going to his ears.

"Are you here for your stuff?" he asks quietly.

You frown. "What?"

Jason points tightly to his room. "Your clothes and stuff."

"Why would I get my clothes?"

He takes a deep, shuddery breath, then swallows.

"'Cause we-we broke up," he says, and his eyes become glassy again.

Oh.

"Oh. Oh no, Jay. Jay, baby. No, no."

You walk to him and wrap your arms around his neck. He plants his face in your shoulder, hands going from your hips to your back and down again. He sniffles.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. We can go to the wedding."

"Wait, hang on. Jason. Baby, look at me."

Jason picks up his head. His eyes are wide, his breathing is fast.

"Why do you think we broke up, Jay?"

He rubs his eye, pulling the skin so hard it turns red.

"'Cause we fought and... and when I fight with people, that means things are over."

"Things aren't over," you say gently. "We move on. We talk. We forgive."

"Don't deserve it."

"Oh, Jay." You pull him back into your arms. He bends so he can rest his head on your chest. "Sweetie, we're not going to break up over one fight. Certainly not over something like this. We can always talk things out."

He sighs. "I was stupid anyway. We should do normal couple things. You don't deserve my bullshit."

You stroke his hair. He hugs you tighter.

"Jay, being anxious about going someplace new isn't bullshit. And I don't want you to go to the wedding just because you're afraid we'll break up if we don't."

He pulls back to look at you. You're no more than a couple inches from each other.

"I don't want to go to the wedding," he says. "But... maybe we can start with something smaller? Less people? Dinner with another couple?"

"Are you sure?"

He nods. "Yeah, sweetheart. I'm sure. I wanna do that stuff, I just—one day at a time?"

"Yeah, Jay, of course." You kiss him. "Always."

[pucksandpower]

Silverstone Silver Linings

Charles Leclerc x Oscar Piastri x George Russell x Reader

Summary: the British Grand Prix was a difficult race for all three of your boys, luckily you have an idea to make it better

The hotel room door clicks open, revealing three dejected figures silhouetted in the hallway. Charles, Oscar, and George shuffle inside, their clothing rumpled and their expressions downcast.

You sit up on the bed, concern etching your features as you take in their defeated postures. “Oh, darlings,” you murmur, opening your arms. “Come here.”

The three drivers gravitate towards you, drawn by the comfort you offer. Charles flops face-first onto the bed with a muffled groan. Oscar perches on the edge, running a hand through his tousled hair. George paces restlessly, unable to settle.

“That was ... not ideal,” Oscar says, his voice strained.

You reach out to stroke his back soothingly. “I know, love. You all drove brilliantly, though. Sometimes things just don’t go to plan.”

George lets out a bitter laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. A bloody water system issue? After starting on pole? It’s like the universe was laughing at me.”

“At least you didn’t have to suffer through the whole race,” Charles mumbles into the duvet. “I felt like such an idiot out there.”

You frown, tugging gently at Charles’ shoulder until he rolls over to face you. “Hey now, none of that talk. You followed the call that seemed right at the time because you trusted your team. How were you supposed to know the rain would stop and Ferrari fed you wrong information?”

Charles sighs, his eyes meeting yours. “I know, I know. It’s just ... frustrating. I thought maybe this would be our weekend, you know?”

Oscar nods in agreement. “Tell me about it. P2 felt so close I could taste it. Then being held out without pitting ...” He trails off, shaking his head.

You pull Oscar closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. “You showed everyone what you’re capable of today. That won’t be forgotten.”

George finally stops pacing, sinking onto the bed next to you. “I just feel so ... helpless. Like no matter what I do, something always goes wrong.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you murmur, cupping his face in your hands. “You can’t control everything. What matters is how you handle the setbacks.”

Charles props himself up on an elbow, a hint of a smile finally tugging at his lips. “She’s right, you know. We’re lucky to have such a wise girlfriend.”

Oscar chuckles softly. “And a patient one. How do you put up with three moody drivers?”

You grin, playfully ruffling his hair. “It’s not easy, but someone’s got to do it.”

George leans into your touch, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “We don’t deserve you, truly.”

“Nonsense,” you reply, pulling him closer. “You all deserve the world. And I intend to remind you of that.”

Charles’ eyes spark with interest as he finally seems to notice your attire. “Is that ... new?” He asks, gesturing to the lacy ensemble.

You blush slightly, a coy smile playing on your lips. “Maybe. I thought you boys might need some cheering up after the race.”

Oscar’s gaze roams appreciatively over you. “Well, consider me thoroughly distracted.”

George grins, some of his usual charm returning. “You know, I’m suddenly feeling much better about that DNF.”

You laugh, the sound bright and infectious. “Good. That was rather the point.”

Charles sits up fully, his earlier despondency forgotten as he drinks in the sight of you. “You are far too good to us, mon amour.”

“Never,” you insist, leaning in to brush your lips against his. “You all work so hard. You deserve to feel appreciated.”

Oscar’s hand finds yours, squeezing gently. “How did we get so lucky?”

You turn to him, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’m the lucky one, darling.”

George wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “I beg to differ,” he murmurs against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

Charles watches the exchange with darkening eyes. “Perhaps we should show our appreciation more ... thoroughly?”

You bite your lip, a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. “I certainly wouldn’t object.”

Oscar’s fingers trail along your collarbone, feather-light. “Where should we start?”

“I have a few ideas,” George says with a roguish grin, his earlier frustration melting away.

You laugh, playfully swatting at his chest. “I’m sure you do, Mr. Russell.”

Charles moves behind you, his arms encircling your waist as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. “And what about you, chérie? What do you desire?”

Your breath catches as Oscar’s hand skims up your thigh. “I ... I just want you all to feel better.”

George cups your face, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “Oh, we feel much better already. But we’d like to return the favor.”

Oscar nods in agreement, his voice low. “Let us take care of you for a change.”

You melt into their touches, overwhelmed by the love and desire radiating from all three men. “Well, when you put it that way ...”

Charles chuckles, the sound vibrating against your back. “I think that’s a yes, hmm?”

George’s lips capture yours in a searing kiss, effectively silencing any further discussion. You lose yourself in the sensations, grateful for the chance to comfort your boys and be comforted in return.

As clothes are shed and caresses grow bolder, the disappointments of the day fade away. In this moment, there is only love, passion, and the unbreakable bond between the four of you.

Later, as you lie tangled together in a blissful haze, Charles breaks the comfortable silence. “You know, I think I’ve changed my mind about today.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Charles nods, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Mhm. Any day that ends like this can’t be all bad.”

George laughs, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. “I have to agree. Though I still wouldn’t mind a do-over of that race.”

You roll your eyes fondly. “Always the competitors, aren’t you?”

Oscar grins, pulling you closer. “Can you blame us? We like to win.”

“Well,” you say with a mischievous smile, “I’d say you all won today, wouldn’t you?”

Charles’ eyes sparkle with amusement. “Absolutely. Though I think we should double-check, just to be sure.”

George nods solemnly, though his lips twitch with suppressed laughter. “Very true. We wouldn’t want any doubt about the results.”

You giggle as Oscar’s fingers find a ticklish spot on your ribs. “And how do you propose we do that?”

The three drivers exchange a look, matching grins spreading across their faces. “I’m sure we can think of something,” Oscar says, his voice full of promise.

As hands begin to wander once more, you send up a silent prayer of thanks for these three incredible men and the love you share. No matter what challenges they face on the track, you know that together, you can weather any storm.

[pin-k-ink]

for haikyuu thirsts, atsumu drunk and choking reader while overstimulating them, not caring if they ask him to stop or slow down (reader likes it, duh)

orrrr bokuto "just the tipping" but he can't help how good it feels and goes all the way

ardor // miya atsumu

tw ⇢ mention of alcohol consumption, needy!tsumu, praise kink, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, overstimulation, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, mention of pregnancy

wc ⇢ 2.4k

a/n: i wanted to write for bo so bad but i felt like atsumu deserves his own fic since osamu got one too. i’ll write a longer one someday

Atsumu stumbled through the doorway, the apartment quiet except for the faint sounds of a TV playing in the living room. A lopsided grin spread across his face as he spotted you curled up on the couch, eyes glued to whatever show was on the screen.

He paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of you looking so cozy and at home in his space. Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun, a few stray strands falling around your face. The dim lighting from the TV cast flickering shadows that danced across your features as you nibbled absentmindedly on your lower lip, completely absorbed.

Atsumu's heart swelled with a fierce tenderness. After being surrounded by raucous teammates all night at the MSBY Black Jackals' end-of-season party, coming home to find you here waiting for him made everything feel right in his world again.

You jumped slightly when he finally shuffled further into the room, head swiveling towards the noise. "Atsumu? There you are." You blinked a few times, taking in his rumpled appearance and glazed eyes. "Geez, what time even is it? The team party must have been really fun if you're just getting back now."

"Not much fun without ya there," he slurred, kicking off his shoes in a haphazard trail towards the couch before flopping down beside you. He immediately nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your comfortingly familiar scent. "Couldn't stop thinkin' about ya all night, babe."

You laughed softly at his drunken antics, giving his disheveled blonde hair an affectionate ruffle. "Is that so? Well, I'm just glad you made it home safe."

Atsumu pulled back reluctantly, hands coming up to cradle your face as he studied your features with an intense yet unfocused gaze. His thumb stroked along the curve of your cheekbone as his eyes roamed hungrily over you.

"Have I told ya how gorgeous ya are today?" His voice was low and rough with longing. "Because ya are. Stunning."

You felt your cheeks warm at his unabashed admiration, suddenly very aware of your casual lounge wear and lack of makeup compared to how you'd been dolled up the last time he had seen you a few days ago.

"Once or twice," you murmured back, trying for a teasing tone to hide your self-consciousness. "But I don't mind hearing it again."

Atsumu's lips curved into a slow, heated smile at your words. He leaned in closer, movements heavy and intoxicated yet brimming with yearning. You shivered at the feeling of his warm breath fanning across your skin as he paused, just inches from your mouth.

"Then let me show ya how much I mean it..."

His lips finally met yours in a searing, hungry kiss that left you dizzy and aching for his touch. Months of long separations and lonely nights apart came pouring out as you clutched desperately at him. Your fingers threaded through his silky hair, pulling him even closer until there was no space left between your bodies.

What started soft and tender quickly grew more heated and frantic, like a dam finally bursting under the relentless pressure of long-restrained passion.

Their kisses deepened, growing hungrier and more desperate with each heated exchange. Atsumu's hands roamed reverently over your body, mapping out the curves he had committed to memory yet could never get enough of. You arched into his touch with a soft whimper, craving to be even closer.

He obliged by pulling you fully into his lap, the new position allowing no space between your bodies. One of his hands threaded into your hair to angle your head how he wanted while the other pressed firmly into the small of your back, keeping you flush against him.

You could feel the hard planes of his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt, and yearned to rid yourself of the barriers between you both. Your fingers toyed with the hem of his top before slipping boldly underneath, seeking out the heated skin below.

Atsumu's breath hitched at the feeling of your fingertips gliding across his abs and he pulled away from the kiss, breathing ragged. His eyes were dark with arousal and his gaze was fixed firmly on your kiss-swollen lips.

"I wanna taste every part of ya," he growled, hands clenching involuntarily where they rested on your hips. "Every inch. Wanna hear ya moan my name over 'n over again until it's all ya can remember."

You loved the way he always seemed to know exactly what you craved, pushing boundaries while still treating you like something precious. A shuddering gasp escaped your lips when his tongue delved deeper, stoking the simmering fire between you both.

Atsumu growled low in his throat, the vibration sending sparks dancing along your nerves. Without breaking the searing kiss, he deftly maneuvered until you were stretched out beneath him on the couch. His solid weight pinned you deliciously in place as you arched shamelessly against him, desperate for friction.

"Babe..." he groaned when you nipped at his full lower lip. "Need you...so bad..."

You tugged impatiently at his shirt, wanting nothing more than to run your hands all over his bare skin. His mouth left yours briefly to allow the fabric to slip over his head, and then he was pressing feverish kisses down your jaw and neck, leaving no part untouched.

His large, calloused hands slipped under the hem of your loose tank top, caressing the sensitive skin of your stomach before slowly pushing the material up and exposing your torso to his hungry gaze. Your nipples hardened when they met the cool air, and you whimpered as his hot mouth began to make its way further south, stopping to lavish attention on the delicate curve of your breast.

"So gorgeous, babe," he breathed, the heat of his breath and the brush of his lips on your skin making you tremble.

One of his hands palmed the neglected mound while his mouth teased the nipple, teeth scraping lightly over the pebbled flesh before his tongue swirled and soothed. The contrast between sharp and soft had you panting and writhing, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Atsumu took his sweet time, working you over until your legs were quaking and you could barely stand it anymore. Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he switched his attention to the other side, his free hand trailing fire over the sensitized skin his mouth had just left.

When he finally moved on, your nerves were singing with electricity, his every touch and whisper sending shockwaves rippling through you. The ache between your legs throbbed insistently, begging for attention. You whined in protest when he began moving away, your body craving the delicious pressure of his weight atop you.

Atsumu grinned up at you from where he had settled between your thighs, his face flushed with arousal and hair sticking up from where you had pulled and tugged on the strands.

"Don't worry, babe. Gonna give ya exactly what ya need..."

Your breath caught in your throat at the lustful promise in his tone, the anticipation only heightening the thrill. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and panties, slowly sliding the two pieces of clothing down your legs until you were completely exposed to him.

His gaze raked over your nude form with unabashed hunger, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. "So fucking beautiful."

You felt your face flush at the raw desire in his voice, and shifted restlessly under the intensity of his gaze. He held your eyes as he lowered his head to press an open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, his tongue flicking out to taste the soft skin.

"And ya taste so fuckin' good too," he groaned, licking his lips as if savoring the taste.

His hot mouth made its way higher, and higher, until he was nosing along the crease of your thigh, so close to where you desperately needed him yet maddeningly far.

"Atsumu, please," you whimpered, hips bucking slightly towards his mouth.

He chuckled at your obvious impatience, the puff of air sending sparks of pleasure dancing across your sensitive skin. "Always so eager for me, huh babe?"

Your only response was a wordless whine, and Atsumu finally took pity on you. He buried his face between your legs, tongue delving eagerly into the wet heat. A moan of pure relief tumbled from your lips as he began lapping greedily at your dripping core, like a man starved.

You writhed helplessly against his mouth, fingers scrabbling for purchase in his messy locks. The pressure inside was building, coiling tighter and tighter, and the only sounds in the room were your panting gasps and the wet noises of Atsumu's ministrations.

And then, suddenly, he stopped.

"N-no!" you cried, unable to stop the plaintive sound from escaping.

The bastard actually had the audacity to chuckle at your indignation, the sound dark and sinful as his eyes flashed up to meet yours.

"Shhhh, babe. Be a good girl and stay nice 'n still for me, alright?"

Before you could respond, he ducked his head once more. But instead of going back to work on your dripping center, Atsumu began to explore your folds.

"Gotta get ya ready for me, babe," he murmured, voice muffled against your skin. "Can't wait to fill ya up 'n fuck ya on the couch."

You whimpered at the dirty words, unable to form a coherent response as his mouth worked over you, alternating between soft kitten licks and broad strokes of his tongue. He traced every crease and dip, mapping out your most intimate parts with an almost reverent attention to detail.

When you felt a long finger slip inside, you could no longer hold back your moans. He pumped in and out, curling upwards with each thrust and stroking over that hidden bundle of nerves. Soon another finger joined, scissoring and stretching your tight entrance, preparing you for what was to come.

By the time a third finger slipped inside, you were a writhing, whimpering mess. Every muscle in your body was tensed in anticipation, hovering right on the edge.

"Please, Tsumu," you panted, hands scrabbling at the couch cushions, "I'm so close..."

Atsumu groaned and doubled his efforts, pumping and curling his fingers with purpose. His hot mouth sealed around your throbbing clit, tongue lashing relentlessly over the swollen bud until your entire world narrowed down to that single point of contact.

The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter, spiraling higher and higher, until finally it snapped, sending you toppling over the edge. You threw your head back with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut and toes curled in ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, the intensity nearly overwhelming.

Atsumu kept working you through your orgasm, drawing it out until the pleasure was almost too much. When you finally came down from your high, body trembling and skin flushed, he slowly withdrew his fingers, giving one final lick to your dripping core.

You opened your eyes blearily, dazed and satiated, and watched him rise up from between your legs. He had a cocky grin on his face, clearly pleased with the effect he'd had on you.

"Enjoy yerself, babe?"

You could only manage a breathy laugh in response, still coming down from the intense high. Atsumu stood up from the couch and tried to shuck off his jeans and boxers, nearly stumbling over in his inebriated state.

Your eyes drank in the sight of his chiseled torso, broad shoulders, and toned arms, and followed the line of dark hair down his sculpted abs until your gaze landed on his straining erection. It was long and thick, curving upwards and already slick with pre-cum.

Atsumu noticed you staring and grinned, stroking a hand over his length. "Like what ya see, babe? Ya want it?"

You licked your lips, nodding eagerly.

"Ya gotta ask nicely, babe," he teased, eyes darkening with lust as he continued stroking himself. To goad you even further, he gently tapped your mound with the head of his cock, leaving a very prominent stain of his precum on your skin.

"Please, Tsumu," you murmured, voice low and sultry. "I need you inside me. Need to feel you stretching me open, filling me up..."

A low groan rumbled in his throat at your words, and he wasted no time positioning himself between your spread legs, rubbing the head of his cock along your soaked slit.

You gasped when the tip breached your entrance, the stretch already making you feel deliciously full. Atsumu gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and began to slide slowly, torturously, inch by inch.

It was almost too much, the overwhelming sensation of his thick length stretching you open and filling you so perfectly. Your inner walls clenched down tightly, as if trying to draw him even deeper.

"Fuck, yer so tight, babe," Atsumu groaned, voice strained. "Feels so good, ya have no idea..."

Finally, he bottomed out, hips flush against yours and every inch of him sheathed inside. You moaned at the feeling of being completely filled, your walls fluttering around him.

Atsumu braced his hands on either side of your head, caging you in. The heat in his gaze was almost enough to burn you.

"Yer mine, babe. All mine."

"Yes, yes, I'm yours," you whimpered, arching against him and seeking more friction. "Now please, fuck me, Tsumu!"

He smirked at your breathless plea, fingers curling around your neck so he could kiss your mouth once again, tongue sweeping into your mouth and swallowing your moans as he pulled his hips back and snapped them forward.

Your cry was muffled against his lips as he set a relentless pace, pounding into you with deep, hard thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with your moans and his grunts, filling the room.

One of his hands slid down to grip your hip, fingers pressing bruises into the soft flesh, while the other kept its grip on your throat, just enough pressure to send sparks dancing across your skin. You couldn't move, couldn't do anything but take everything he gave you, and it was the most exhilarating experience.

The coil inside you was winding tight again, and Atsumu could tell from the way you clenched around him. He leaned down to growl in your ear, grip tightening around your neck until you were gasping for air. "You gonna cum for me, pretty? Go on. Cum for me…"

And that was all it took for the tension to snap, a tidal wave of pleasure washing over you. Your back arched off the couch, eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in a silent scream as the orgasm ripped through you.

Atsumu showed no signs of slowing down, and the sensation was almost too much. Each thrust sent jolts of pleasure-pain shooting up your spine.

"Too much, Tsumu," you pleaded, trembling from overstimulation.

He didn't answer, merely tightened his grip on your neck and increased his pace, the sloppy wet noises of his cock slamming into you even louder now.

"Tsumu!"

He released your throat suddenly, and the rush of oxygen sent your head spinning. Atsumu gripped both your hips in a bruising hold, lifting them slightly so he could hit a new angle, and then his rhythm was faltering, thrusts becoming erratic.

"Fuck, babe, gonna cum," he gasped, the veins in his arms straining as his grip tightened. "Gonna fill ya up so good, make ya all mine."

His words sent another spark of arousal through you, and you felt your walls clenching down on him. With a few more desperate thrusts, he slammed his hips forward one last time and emptied himself inside you, thick ropes of cum painting your insides.

You could feel his cock twitching and pulsing, the sensation sending you careening over the edge for a third time. Your body was shaking and trembling, every muscle quivering and the velvety walls of your pussy undulating around him as you gushed and sprayed your juices all over his abdomen.

As you came down from the high, the full realization of what had just transpired slowly dawned on you. Atsumu had been too intoxicated to think about protection, and his release had spilled deep inside you.

"What if you got me pregnant?" you asked worriedly, propping yourself up on an elbow.

"Would be the best day of my life," he replied instantly, a lazy smile curving his lips as he rolled onto his side and gathered you close.

[ellecdc]

saw the blurbs rq post and immediately need

“i never knew i could feel this loved.”

w barty 🙏🙏🙏🙏

ugh friggen barty - I’ve missed him! Also sorry if it’s not too good, I wrote it on my phone. That means I also have no idea how long it is!! Thanks for the prompt 🫶

Barty Crouch Junior x Potter!reader who are at the manor over the school break

CW: touch starved barty (don’t worry, he gets touched), talking about grounding exercises, fluff

The school matron always told Barty to recite the “grounding lists” to help when things got to be too much.

What a load of rubbish. Who in the hells can recite 5 things they can see, 4 things they can hear, 3 things they can feel, 2 things they can smell, and 1 thing they can taste when they’re having a bloody fucking meltdown?

Not him, that’s for damn sure.

The only time Barty could imagine being able to do that was when he was already grounded.

Like now.

From his position on the sofa, laying on his stomach and situated between your legs with his face on your stomach, he could:

See

The plush, red velvet loveseat of the living room in your family home

The great expanse of pictures that hung along the walls of your living room

The half empty bowl of crisps the two of you had been sharing as you watched a movie

The throw blanket in a heap on the floor that the two of you kicked off of your intertwined forms

And the muggle tell-a-vision that was stuck on some fuzzy popcorn type screen because the two of you were too lazy to turn it off now that the movie was over

Hear

The low, staticky popcorn sound that the telly was making

The sound of your heart beat; so full of love that Barty swore it beat louder than anyone else’s

The distant sound of your parents laughing and conversing somewhere else in the manor

The sound of his thumb brushing over the space where the sleeve of your jumper gave way to the skin of your wrist

Feel

The rise and fall of your chest with every breath that you took

The fabric of the cashmere jumper he bought for you under his cheek

The warmth of your hand where it rested in his hair

Smell

The cinnamon and nutmeg candle you lit before the movie

The unmistakeable smell of you that Barty could never get enough of

And as he ran his tongue over his lips, he could still taste you from when you’d pressed a kiss to his lips before getting comfortable.

“Barty?” You whispered as thought you weren’t sure he was still awake.

“Yes, my beautiful darling angel?”

You were quiet for a moment, and Barty could tell you were smiling to yourself.

“What are you thinking about?”

He lifted his head to rest his chin on your stomach so he could look at you; your hair was rather rumpled from the throw pillows, your eyes were clearly more than a little heavy, and Barty was sure that if you were alone, you’d probably be asleep by now. But you seemed to be putting 100% of your energy and effort into the loving gaze you were shooting at him, and Barty wondered - not for the first time - what in the hells he ever did to deserve you.

“I never knew I could feel this loved.” He admitted.

You froze for a moment; the breath you were in the middle of taking paused on its way out as your brows furrowed minutely before you expertly schooled your expression.

“Yeah?”

Barty hummed in agreement and pressed a kiss to your sternum.

“That’s funny,” you said as he lowered his cheek back onto your stomach, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

[taegimood]

this is giving boynextdoor!beomgyu at a community dance/event where he saw you get stood up or walked out on at the venue, and he’s had this big secret crush on you, so when you’re in the bathroom trying to collect yourself and fix your makeup after crying — he went to the convenience store across the street in his suit and everything to buy you a bouquet of flowers to make you feel better, and now waits for you to come back out so he can properly ask you to the dance instead….

when you finally come out after 20 minutes, you stop short when you see gyu in his suit sitting on the floor against the opposite wall of the hallway, head leaning back against it with this big bouquet of flowers in his hands as he waits. the sweet, funny neighbor boy who’s probably less than your friend but definitely more than your acquaintance, who, when he sees you standing there, scrambles up off the floor and quickly straightens out his rumpled suit as he steps towards you.

gyu who holds these flowers out to you as he gently tells you to forget about that other guy because you’re worth so much more than that and deserve to be smiling tonight.

gyu whose nervous eyes try to gauge your reaction as you slowly step forward, tears welling in your eyes again but this time for a different reason, as you take in the boy standing in front of you.

gyu, whose bangs fall over his eyes — always ignoring his mother’s urges to get a haircut — as he asks you, sweetly, softly, to come and dance with him.

he holds you close the whole night, swaying you back and forth and cracking little jokes in your ear to make you laugh, hoping that you can’t hear the way his heart is just about beating out of his chest as you rest your head on it during a slow song. he makes you forget about the other guy completely, showing you the best time, letting you in to this side of him that you’ve never gotten to see before from your limited interactions.

you find yourself growing fonder and fonder as each hour passes. you blush every time he takes your hand to lead you back to the dance floor, you shiver every time he whispers in your ear, and when he gives you that crooked grin, you find yourself just wanting to steal him away and kiss him.

so that’s exactly what you do.

it becomes too much for you to resist when the current song ends and he smiles down at you, arms still wrapped around your waist as he jokes, “feet ready to fall off yet?” and all you can focus on is how close his lips are to yours as you look up at him.

“beomgyu,” you whisper instead. he looks puzzled at the sudden seriousness in your tone, although quickly catches on when he sees the way your eyes are shamelessly not on his anymore but lower, and his whole body tingles when you lean up to his ear and continue, “let’s go somewhere else.”

your hand clasped in his as the two of you hurry from the main room and past hallways of scattered guests, giggling and out of breath as you come to a stop around the corner of a hall where finally no one is walking by — the music still humming faintly in your ears as you stare at each other, your back against the wall as his eyes search yours, the giggles dying down as the mood shifts with the realization of being alone.

“i like you,” he says plainly.

“i know,” you say back.

the playful scrunch of his nose as he steps closer has you biting your lip to fight a smile.

“you like me too.”

“i know,” you say again, but this time it’s a whisper, it’s permission, as your eyes stay locked with his and your hands reach up to hold onto his suit jacket while his lips hover so close over yours that you can feel the promising warmth of his breath.

several intense beats pass before those lips are finally meeting your own, soft and warm and tasting of the spiked punch you were drinking earlier, and as he kisses you he makes it feel like you’re the only one that matters in the world right now.

the way he cups your face with one hand, the other squeezing at your waist as he presses into you, and you pull him impossibly closer by his jacket until there’s no space left between you and you’re circling your arms around his neck instead. you moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, your fingers tugging through his shaggy hair, the temperature rising as he sucks lightly on your tongue with hands that begin to wander.

you gasp when he grips your thigh and hikes your leg up around his waist; the feeling of something hard pressing directly against your core beneath your ridden-up dress sends tingles shooting through your entire body.

“is this okay?” he pants against your lips as he experimentally grinds his hips into yours. “mhm~” you whine as you kiss him, almost desperately, moving your own hips to meet his steady rhythm as the both of you fight to hold back your moans, the sounds of voices down the hall reminding you where you are.

“this isn’t how i imagined this night to go,” he says breathlessly as you begin kissing down his neck.

“i almost didn’t come, didn’t wanna see you with him...” — he gives a punctuated roll of his hips — “was so mad at myself for- shit, that feels good- for not asking you first.”

you pause your ministrations, admiring the pretty red mark you had just sucked into his soft skin, before lifting your eyes to meet his.

“and now?” you ask, biting back a smile.

“now? well… is now a bad time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

you laugh, letting your leg finally come back down to meet the floor as you lean up to cup his face in your hands and kiss him, his own smile sweet against your lips as he holds you.

any guy willing to go buy you flowers and turn your night around like this was decidedly worth it.

“sure, neighbor boy. i’ll be your girlfriend.”

after more jokes and giggles and straightening out each other’s clothes, you’re meandering your way back to the party when he leans down and whispers,

“does this mean i can come climb up to your window and sneak in to have sex like those early 2000’s teen movies?”

“i don’t think those ‘teen movies’ had anything more than a kiss, gyu.”

“well we’re not in a movie, and we’re not teens, are we, y/n?”

“although you do act like one sometimes… ow! no, i suppose we’re not.”

you best believe that even when you’re far along into your relationship, even when he’s perfectly able to walk through your front door and give your mom a hug, beomgyu is still sneaking in through your bedroom window like a giggling idiot to give his girl the best dick of her life. (his words, not yours). and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[wishing-on-a-staranise]

You, Me, Lonely.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea (educate yourself and help however you can)

Summary: you love Steve, Steve loves you. But maybe you both want different things from life.

Warnings/tags: reader menstruates (reader has uterus), abandonment issues, the ‘six nuggets’ talk, suggestive

Word count: 3.4k

masterlist

a/n: huge huge huge thanks to @procrastinationprincesses for helping me out with this fic and giving it an ending (ur amazing sanjana <3)

writing and posting something because i might have to go MIA for a lil bit (miss me while I'm gone will ya?)

fic is inspired by ‘You, Me, Lonely’ by FIZZ i absolutely love this song like its so close to my heart ughh what can i say I'm a little bitter about the six nuggets scene 

also if you couldn't tell already I have major abandonment issues and an anxious avoidant attachment style. It will reflect in what i write soz :(

In the quiet of the night, you wish for this to last forever. That you'll have him forever.

When you came out of the shower you found him asleep on his side of the bed. His side– the one closer to the door. ‘so I can protect you from anyone who'll try to steal you from me’, he had justified it when you asked him why he was adamant on that side.

you had turned off the bedside lamp ten minutes ago, slipped under the duvet, as quietly as possible so as to not wake him up. on your side of his bed. your bed.

He always sleeps on his stomach, one hand under his pillow and the other extended a little towards yours. His body moves with steady and slow breaths, back rising and falling under the covers, head peeking out from under the rumpled up duvet. his cheeks are squished against the pillow cover. His hair is a mess from the lack of hair product, and still damp from the shower he took before you. There's a few strands of his brown hair sprawled across his forehead too. With your softest touch you brush them away from his eyes.

You wonder what he was dreaming. you hope it was something nice. He looks calm, at peace, and very, very pretty.

You look at him and you know you love him. You want to love him forever.

Love had never seemed like the type of thing you’ll get– like it wasn't meant for you. But then you met him. This boy. This boy who you never thought to be your type. You never thought you even had a type. But his boyish charm and stupid grin won you over.

Your heart doesn't skip beats around him anymore, and you’d think that that means he doesn’t have that same effect on you anymore but that would be wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever loved anyone as much as you do to him. You don’t look at him and get butterflies in your stomach, you look at him and… you’re sure. your heart is quiet and sure. You don't think you’ve ever been sure before.

You want to be sure forever.

He feels like the comfortable still of rain after a scorching hot summer, like the calm and cold breeze that cools you down. Like standing at the top of the mountain, looking at the clouds and valleys below, he feels like the crisp air that fills your lungs. Like the comfort meal your mom makes– the one you can never really recreate, the one that tastes the best when it comes from her. 

You love him and you know. You know. You know he likes you, loves you even. 

Steve Harrington loves you like a dream, and you're worried that one day he’ll wake up, look at you and realise that he deserves so much better. He’ll wake up and he’ll leave for work and he’ll bump into a pretty angel of a girl with a disposition as bright as his. And he’ll never return. people fall out of love. People fall out of love all the time.

You wish for him to love you forever.

How long is a forever anyway?

You wonder what it'll be like. When you're older, with wrinkles, white hair and weaker limbs. 

It's like you see it.

You and him in a bed– just like now but older, wiser, more tired. His back turned to you. There'd be distance between you two, you’d want to move closer and hold him– but you wouldn't. You’d just stare at the back of his head, counting all the grey hairs you’d memorised like all the moles and wrinkles on his skin.

You’d notice his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest and you would have known him so long and so well that you'd just know that he wasn't actually asleep. you'd know why he wasn't asleep.

there'd be a pain in your chest. You would know what it is, why its there. You would gulp and try not to think about it.

“Do you always stare at me in my sleep?” his groggy voice pulls you out of your own head.

You blink, multiple times. Forever, right.

He softly smiles up at you. You blink away before moving to lay on your back, the sheets rustling with your movement. “sorry I woke you up”, you mumble an apology, staring at the ceiling, you fail to hide the shake in your voice.

“Y’kay?” 

“Yeah.” the sheets beside you ruffle but you keep your eyes trained on the ceiling. it seems inevitable. You know, one day it'll happen and despite having expected it, it’ll be the greatest heartbreak of them all. 

“Thinking ‘bout somethin’?” he sounds a bit more awake.

“When am I not?” you shake your head and laugh hoping he doesn't notice that it isn't real, thankful that the curtains didn't let in any moonlight and that you had turned off the lights.

“What is it?” but this is Steve, he doesn’t need to see you to know how you’re feeling.

“Nothing.”

“Were you lying about liking the pasta I made?”

“No, Steve it was good”, a real laugh slips out of you, and you finally look at him. He’s leaning on his elbow, the messy head of hair in his hand, looking down at you. You suddenly wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see the colour of his eyes, the moles and freckles on his skin.

“Then what?”

“Nothing.” your gaze moves back to the ceiling.

“Must be something if it's keeping you up”, you feel him shift closer to you. He smells of fresh shower, mint, shaving cream and washed laundry. 

“No, I'm just….  not sleepy.”

“Yeah?”, he raises his eyebrows with a sly smirk, “Well, I know a way to make you sleepy”, he leans down– both arms caging you in, landing a kiss on your neck before trailing further up to your lips. and its lovely, so god damn lovely, you don't want it to stop but this hurts.

“Ste– mmph– Steve stop”, you turn your face away, because if he keeps going, you think you'll cry, palm pushing flat against his bare chest, “I’m– I'm not in the mood.”

“Okay, I'm sorry”, he moves back onto his one elbow. The silence gestates for a while, you can feel his eyes on you. The ticking of the clock is the only thing heard through the room before he softly says, “Hey, please tell me what's happening?”

“Nothing”, you shook your head, “I’m just tired.”

“You just said you're not sleepy.”

“J– just go back to sleep okay? sorry for waking you up”, you turn onto your side, face away from him. 

He sidles up behind you after a second or two, warm breath across the back of your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut. “yeah, like that's gonna put me to sleep", he mutters behind you.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you in closer, “C'mon, you know I wont be able to sleep after fighting”, burying his nose in your hair– he sighed.

“Did you just sniff my hair?”

“Yeah, I do all the time. smells s’good."

"You pervert", you both laugh lightly at that, your hand going for his around your waist, before your smiles fall and silence takes over once again. 

You lick your drying lips, you forgot to put on lip balm again, “We’re not fighting, Steve.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You take in a deep breath in, fingers drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you breath out, “m’sorry.”

His arms squeeze tighter around you, he lets out a quick sigh before placing a kiss on your shoulder, “I’ll forgive you if you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Steve…”, your voice trails off, you're not even sure what you were going to say.

“Is it— Is it your…. Uh, that time of the month?”

That makes you want to roll your eyes at him and smack his chest but you restrain yourself, you’re not sure if you want him to see your eyes right now anyway. Instead, you sigh,  “I had it last week, Steve.”

You got it in this very same bed. Awoken by cramps in the middle of the night. and Steve, your lovely Steve had given you a hot water bag while he took off the sheets and put on fresh new ones and then gave you a soft massage that put you to sleep.

“right... yeah, sorry," he says all sheepish, “So what is it then? Did someone say somethin’ at work?”

“No.”

“Did I.. " he hesitated a little, "did I say something?”

“...no”, you curse yourself for pausing before saying it.

“I did, didn't I?”

“No, no. you–”

“honey, you should tell me if I ever say stupid shit– you should call me out immediately–”

“You didn't say anything stupid or whatever. I'm the one who's being stupid.”

his hold on you loosened, he shifted back to give you space to turn around, “What did I say? Hey, look at me,” you finally turn in his hold, facing him “what did I say?”

“We’d have the cutest little kids, won't we?”

“..what?” You stood infront of the kitchen sink. your hands stopped their scrubbing at the pot you were washing. You tilted your head towards him who had his head rested on your shoulder, his arms around your waist.

“Little Harringtons”, you could hear the smile on his lips.

“Harringtons?”

“Or maybe we get our names hyphenated. That works too, it’d be cute”, his hands hold your waist, his duty of drying the plates abandoned. “They’d have my fabulous hair, and your pretty, pretty eyes– cutest kids around the block”

“Our kids?” you repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, and six of ‘em. six little nuggets. They’ll make up half of a football team”, he giggled, warm air hitting the side of your face, “Doesn’t that sound lovely?” he smiled at you.

“...yeah. Yeah, it does.” you smiled back at him which only made him grin wider. His arms tighten around you again, and lips start a trail from behind your ears to down your neck.

You scoffed softly "You’re supposed to help me wash dishes you filthy animal." 

“Oh, fine,” he gave you an over dramatic sigh, before his hands left your sides, skin feeling lonely as ever.

“No, it's fine. I’m almost done anyway", you went back to scrubbing at the bottom of the pot, "Just go and take a shower, you reek.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll go!” he groaned, playfully as a kid, before he leaned against the counter, looking at you with his ‘Harrington charm’. His voice is silky when he asks, “Will you join me?”

“Steve." you said it almost as a warning.

“I don’t hear a no.”

“Okay then, no.”

“Tomorrow morning…?”

“I have an early shift tomorrow, you horndog.”

“We'll make it work.”

“No.”

“Okay", he sighs, “come up quickly though, I wanna be the big spoon today”, pecking your cheek before leaving for the shower upstairs.

Looking at him, you brush the now mostly dry hair falling on his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Your fingers lingered there, you smile, “nothing, Steve.”  your thumb rubs back and forth on the apple of his cheeks. “You didn’t say anything. it's stupid.”

His hand reaches up to hold your fingers in place, he turns his head a little to kiss your knuckles, “okay, I didn't say anything” he kisses your knuckles again, gaze stuck to your face, “but could you tell me what it is you think you’re being stupid about?”

God, I love him, you think. “Don't worry about it”, your voice barely a whisper as you attempt to give him a smile. You move closer, planting a slow kiss on his lips which are so much softer than yours– he never forgets his chapstick.

And god, you needed this, your brain stops when you kiss him. thoughts quelled and its quiet again. After some time though, your throat starts to burn and your chest is on the verge of a sob. So, when you pull away, you fail to hide the stuttered breath that you take in.

Steve knew there was something to worry about, but when he hears your breath that almost sounds like a sob, he’s immediately on high alert. Before he can brush your hair out of your face to look at you, really look at you, you bury your face in his chest.

It takes him a second to realize that you’re crying and it breaks his heart because you’re trying to hide it.

“Baby..” he feels you curl in further, your face warm against his skin. He moves to pull you in closer, palm holding the back of your head. He just wanted to take away whatever it was that was bothering you. He tried to pull away to get a look at your face to help you calm down but you wouldn't let him. He settles on carding his fingers through your hair, rubbing circles on the little sliver of exposed skin between your t-shirt and shorts, hoping it gives you some sort of comfort.

"Honey", it is then that you finally let in a shaky breath. he feels the skin where you hid your face get wet maybe with tears, sweat, snot, he didn't care-- he just wanted to take all your pain away.

You both stay that way, and you're suprised by how much you sob, how hard you heave. You weren't sure how long you stayed that way, maybe minutes, maybe hours, however long. It feels like forever.

At this moment, encased in Steve's arms, breath hot against his skin, despite the nose plugged with snot, lashes clumped with tears, eyes squinted shut, you think this is comfortable. Yet it hurts. Because you'll have to pull away. It hurts so damn much because you know how this can go, you know it can hurt so, so much more. You know it will hurt.

You want this to last forever, however fucking long one of those is.

So, you hold on longer because, you’re selfish with your love for Steve. You're selfish because despite the heartache, you’ll have him, for as long as you can.

His hold on you gentle yet firm, as if afraid he'd break you. In your head, he already had. He tries to pull away again, to look at you but you can't. Your eyes still squinted close, willing it all to be a stupid dream. “Honey, I promise you whatever it is, you can tell me”, he says, voice soft as feather. Of course it's not a dream.

Your tongue betrays you, “Its…s–” stupid. Silly. It really doesn't feel stupid or silly, but god, you're so scared that you can't say it, you didn't want to say it because if you do it’ll come true, wont it?

“Whatever it is that you think is stupid," he assured you as if he could read your mind, "I still want to hear it because I know I won't think it's stupid."

suddenly it burns, and you need air. you sit up and try not to think about how ridiculously not pretty you probably look with snot running down your face, “What if- what if we- we end up hating each other?” you manage to say through hiccups.

“What?” he sits up as well, he says as if you had said the most ridiculous thing, “I'll never hate you, honey.”

For some reason, tears fill your eyes again at that, “Steve, you don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“No. Ste– people fall out of love, Steve- all the- all the time.” It terrifies him how convinced you sound of it.

“Do..... do you think you’ll fall out of love with me?”

The question startles you, its evident in your wide eyes, “Wha– what?”

“Do you think… you’ll fall out of love with me?" he repeats, "You think you’ll hate me?”

You shake your head, the tear that had been sitting on your lower lash finally slides down your already tear-stained cheek.

“Good." he wipes the wet trails left behind with his thumb, "then, why would I hate you?”

Your face twists into an expression that Steve wasn't sure what to describe it as. a deep frown on your lips, chin wobbly, brows scrunched up together, eyes red and tired yet nostrils flared. “‘Cause", you start but before you could continue another sob leaves you. you look down at your lap, trying to catch your breath. it takes you a minute before you begin again, "do you remember.... what you said about our kids?”

He nods, heart clenching at the way your voice breaks, “I don't think I can… do that”, he doesn't think he's ever heard you sound so broken. “I– I don't think if I– if I want that.”

He sits silent and you think this is it. maybe forevers aren't that long after all.

More tears fall, more sobs leave you, you don't bother to wipe them. What's it matter anyway? He hates you already. He's probably thinking of a way to let you down easily because he is kind like that “Honey.. I want a family..” you feel your heart ripping in two and you just can't look at him.

“And I want you to be a part of that family. I– I want you to be the person I built a family with, no matter the size." He wipes at both your cheeks again, making you look at him, "even if its just us.”

The relieved smile he expected from you isn't there, instead, you frown, the crease between your brows deepens. the part that hurt the most was that you push his hands away, “you’re saying that now, but what happens when years down the line, when we’re old, you– you end up resenting me. Y- you love me right now, I know. But how do you know you wont end up hating me like, ten years later?”

“I dont want to watch you grow old and hate me and then leave me, Steve. I’d rather end this now if we’re destined to just end up unhappy together.”

“We’re not. Okay? We’re not. I know I wont hate you, ever.” He reaches for your hands again. He kisses your fingers before continuing, “And I know that I want you, just you and whatever that– that that comes with. We could never have kids and I would never hate you for it.”

“You won't be happy", you say meekly, like he'd be mad at you for speaking what was on your mind to him, “You wont hate me but you wont be happy either”, you muttered, chin ducked into your chest.

“Honey”, he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head to make you look at him, to make you understand. “you’re what I need to be happy. You make me happy. And.. I’d hope you need me to be happy too”, a wet chuckle escapes you at that. A hint of a smile on your face despite the tears.

“You do, don’t you?” he clarified with a soft smile of himself.

You nod, "yeah", letting out a loud sniffle.

“Good. I know its scary but you’ve gotta put your trust in me. Trust me enough to believe in me when I say that you are what makes me happy. and I am happy."

He wipes away gently at your face, ridding it of the tear stains, “Sometimes, you’ve just gotta trust. I promise I’ll never break it.” 

You sob again but it's lighter than before, you wrap your arms around his neck and feel the weight you felt get lifted, you sniffle into the crook of his neck, "thank you."

You feel his lips on your hairline, "Let's go back to sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah. You still wanna be the big spoon?"

"yeah, I think you need to be the little spoon today." he pulls you down with him, your back to his chest, kissing the skin behind your ear he finally settles in beside you.

You call out his name, he hums in response. "how long do you think a forever is?"

"I don't know, honey."

"Can we stay like this forever?"

"Um.. if you mean us staying forever then yes, definitely forever. But, if you meant me being the big spoon forever, baby, I'm not sure if I'll be able to commit to that."

You laugh, "I love you." you confess.

"I love you too."

[osaemu]

OSAMU DAZAI: ❛❛ MIDNIGHT RAIN ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ his melancholia is addicting. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. smut –> angst. cunniligus, implied p –> v, alcohol consumption. mentions of alcohol and smoking. established relationship.

author's note: somewhat inspired by cornelia street, easily the best song off of lover imo. fight me.

dazai's a stressed man—that's what years upon years of living in environments as active and tense as the mafia and the agency would do to anyone. so on the somewhat rare occasions that dazai softens around you, it's not a problem for you to oblige him.

ever since the two of you started dating, you haven't had a free night to yourself. nights that were once spent on the couch are now spent following dazai through the scarcely lit parts of yokohama, the only illumination of his figure being the soft rays of twilight bleeding from the sky.

on your little nights out, he never lets go of your hand. whether it's to tug you along cobblestone pathways or comfort you in the alleys you used to avoid, his fingers are always threaded through your own.

the more comfortable he gets with you, the more touchy he gets. dazai's arms seem like they were made to wrap around your waist, and you can't help but feel like a part of you's missing when his fingers aren't tangled with your own.

dazai's good with his words, and even better with his hands. only someone as adroit as dazai could make you see stars on your bedroom ceiling with just his fingers.

on nights when the agency works him like a dog, it's all you can do to keep your heart from melting when you see the way he falls asleep in your arms. for him, your touch is dangerously drug-like—something like a sedative, as he tells you the morning after.

dazai wouldn't have it any other way—he'd rather be addicted to you than to cigarettes or alcohol. and, lucky for him, he finds out after your first night in his sheets that you even taste better too.

one crisp evening after one too many glasses of whiskey, dazai's lips find their way to your collarbone, brushing across your skin in an almost ghost-like manner. the way he's holding himself back is almost painful to watch—the longing in his eyes plus the way he flexes his fingers pulls out a plea for him to just touch you from your lips.

one thing leads to another, and within a couple minutes your clothes are discarded to who-knows-where and all you can think about is how good dazai is to you.

and yet, even an hour later, he's holding himself back. despite being under the influence, dazai retains enough of his mind to resist the growing urge to fuck you to his heart's content. only after your pleas turn into full-on begging does he give in, deftly pushing your legs apart and sliding in effortlessly, mumbling praises on just how well you're taking him.

dazai eats you out like a man starved—when you convince him to fuck you with his tongue, he's ravenous. to him, you taste like heaven, and to someone who's certainly going to hell, he can't help but savor the taste of the paradise he'll never set foot in.

someone with such a tainted past like him doesn't deserve such a good girl like you. you shouldn't have to bear any part of the burden that rests on dazai's shoulders—it's not your fault he's so attracted to you.

that's a lie. the blame can only be put on you for being so accommodating, so comforting, so fucking perfect—at least, that's what dazai tells you from his spot in between your legs.

the pornographic sounds that the two of you make over the course of the night fluctuate every time one of you goes over the edge, mind swamped with nothing but thoughts of the other.

the night goes by too fast, marked by love-drunk kisses and nearly-spilt glasses of whiskey. neither of you has any idea how it started or how it'll end—the rumpled sheets tangled in between your legs is enough.

promises of i'm yours fall from both of your lips as the high starts to fade and your breaths start to slow, sleep tugging at the backs of your minds.

as the view around you fades to black, a last whisper slips through your lips. just before your eyes flutter closed, you relish the look of surprise on your boyfriend's face—it's exceedingly rare to catch dazai off guard, and for you, the person he thinks he understands the most to do so? impossible.

and yet the six words you murmur as your head hits the pillow leave dazai open-mouthed for a moment. he's speechless. the words themselves aren't much, but the meaning behind them is everything.

all good things come to an end—as a member of two of the most perilous organizations in yokohama, dazai knows this all too well. being surrounded by death and danger for half your life tends to destroy one's faith in destiny, and yet, as dazai watches you fall asleep on his chest, he dares to let himself hope against all odds.

all good things come to an end, but hopefully, this won't. he's invested far too much into this for it to crumble—if the worst happened, he'd never love again. it wouldn't be worth the risk, not if someone as perfect as you managed to slip through his fingers. he couldn't lose you, too.

so when he hears his thoughts mirrored on your lips, something in dazai's heart breaks. all his life, he'd been taught that permanence was a false promise. everything ended, good and bad, eventually. dazai had been taught to cut people off before they could hurt him, but for you?

if loving you was pain, then by all means, consider him a masochist.

"i hope i never lose you."

[starleska]

* falls up the stairs downwards and out of a closet* I HAVE A REQUEST!

Wally x Touched starved reader please

Thank you<3

hahaha, of course!! i've actually received several requests for a touch-starved reader, so i think y'all are feeling a way 🥺💖

content warning for implied past abuse - i'm writing a Reader who may have a reason for being touch-starved. it isn't graphic, but just in case folks are sensitive to that topic!

Wally Darling x Touch-Starved Reader headcanons

💖 when you first meet Wally, you shy away from his constant physical affection. Wally is a very huggy person, and he's forever giving his friends comforting taps and touches by way of his friendship. however, the first time he tries to hug you, you flinch back, thinking he must have an ulterior motive. the hurt in Wally's eyes makes you feel guilty for the rest of the day, but you can't get over this in-built response designed to protect you. being touched isn't something you feel you deserve, and even the idea of accidentally brushing hands is dizzying to you. however, Wally returns a few hours later after your startled response. he offers his hand to you, which is clad in bright green fabric and dotted with pictures of bumblebees. "Julie lent me her gardening gloves," Wally explains, "so touching won't be as scary." you're so overwhelmed by the sweetness and absurdity of his gesture that you break down in tears.

💖 it's a while before you let Wally touch you properly, but once you do, you can't get enough. Wally is incredibly plush and cuddly - even the skinniest part of his body is soft and plump like a stuffed toy!! you start slow with holding hands, and Wally works with you, first locking his pinkie around yours and holding it for a minute at a time. soon, you're confident enough to lean against Wally while he keeps his arms at his side. Wally tries to act inconspicuous when you do this, whistling tunelessly and pretending not to notice you. the first time you hug Wally, you slip up behind him unnoticed and seize him tightly around the waist. Wally makes a soft, "Oh!" of surprise and twists around, trying to look at you, but you've buried your face in the sumptuous material of his cardigan. he chuckles warmly, and gives you a reassuring pat on the head.

💖 once the seal is broken, Wally is determined to show you what you've been missing. Wally decides his new favourite game is wrapping you up tight in a blanket burrito, and nuzzling the top of your head while you pretend-struggle to escape. the deep pressure is wonderful and soothing, although it never lasts long; Wally loves cuddling you so much that he always releases you from your soft prison much too soon, and then you're falling on top of one another, consumed with the giggles. when the two of you are alone, Wally will often snuggle up into the crook of your neck, sighing happily as he loops his arms around your shoulders and all but climbs into your lap. sometimes you fall asleep like that, together: a silly, happy mess of rumpled sheets and tangled limbs.

this was a very cute request - thank you so much 🥰💖

[guilty-pleasures21]

The biology professor

Just a random thought I had about Bully!Jason x Shy!Reader who's his biology professor in university.

Warnings: explicit description of sex (male x female).

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

     Jason sighed as he dumped his bag on the ground and sank into the seat next to his friend. Roy raised an eyebrow, amused by Jason’s irritation, then returned his attention to his laptop. “What’s wrong, Jay? I thought you loved biology?” 

     Jason shot him an exasperated look as he folded his arms across his chest. He’d only taken this class because Roy had promised him that everyone passed the class. Roy slid his gaze over to him and snickered when he saw the irritated look on his face. 

     “Oh, my bad. You just love our biology professor,” Roy corrected, glancing over at their adorable little professor. She straightened from behind her laptop and Jason’s lips curled at the ends when he saw her pretty face. She was so cute with her round eyes and her curly hair and her small frame. And she was so sweet too, always making sure to pay extra attention to those struggling in her class. It was no wonder all her students were half in love with her. Jason glanced around the room, taking in their class. And that more than half her class was male. 

     “Am I late?! What did I miss?!” Wally breathed out, rushing into the hall and collapsing into the seat on Jason’s other side. His hair was dishevelled and his clothes rumpled, like he’d just woken up then tossed them on before running to class. Jason sighed and folded his arms across his chest. 

     “You’re always late, Wally,” he replied, turning his attention back to their professor. Roy leaned over him to speak to Wally. 

     “You didn’t miss anything,” he reassured him. “Just Jay’s huge crush on our adorable little professor.” Jason frowned at him, but Wally scoffed in amusement as he pulled his tablet out of his bag. 

     “Yeah. You and everyone else in this hall,” he mumbled, causing Jason’s frown to deepen even further. He glanced around the hall, studying the many admiring gazes trained on their professor, and shifted in his seat, disgruntled. He’d have to do something about that later.

     Her lips widened into a grin as she passed Jason back his test paper. 

     “Good job, Jason! I’m really proud of you!” she praised him. He’d improved so much since the first tutoring session she’d given him, and he seemed to have developed a real interest in the subject as well. It was just too bad that he still had trouble keeping his temper under control, she lamented, noting the bruises around his knuckles. But hopefully they’d find a way to overcome that too. 

     Jason’s lips curled into a tiny smirk as he let his eyes trail over his professor’s sweet features. God, she was cute when she smiled at him like that. Tony had absolutely deserved the beating he’d gotten, saying all those lewd things he’d said about her. Jason twirled a strand of her hair around his finger from where he’d slung his arm over the back of her chair. “What can I say? I had a good teacher.” 

     X lowered her gaze as she bit down on her smile. “Thanks. So, um, was there anything else you wanted me to go through today?” 

     She tapped her pen on the table as she waited for his response, her dark eyes round and questioning as she lifted her gaze back to his. Jason felt his heart pick up its pace: this was it, this was his chance. 

     “Uh, yeah, actually,” he agreed carefully. “I was wondering if you could teach me a little more about the reproductive system?” She froze at his question, not expecting the request. But it was a chapter that would come up later in the course anyway. Maybe he just wanted to get a headstart? 

     “Um, okay!” She turned back to his textbook to flip it back to the contents page. “Let me just find the-” 

     Jason placed a hand on the book, stopping her in her tracks. X looked up at him, her brows furrowed in confusion, and he pressed his lips together to keep from flashing her a wicked grin. “Not like that. You always said I was more of a … What did you call it? The kind of person who learns better by doing things?” 

     “A kinetic learner!” X jumped in quickly, understanding what he was talking about. Jason’s lips curled at the ends at her enthusiasm. How did she become a professor at such a young age? And how the hell was she still single? So cute and sweet and f*cking hot as she was. 

     “Right,” he replied slowly, spreading his legs a little wider apart and leaning back in his seat. “So, I was wondering if we could have a more ‘kinetic’ lesson.” 

     She swallowed hard as her gaze fell to his thick and muscular thighs. Then she pulled her eyes back up to his, embarrassed by the direction in which her thoughts had headed. “Um, okay. So … what do you want to know?” 

     He leaned forward and ran his fingers through her hair, admiring the silkiness of her curly locks. “Well, I … I’d learn to learn more about sex. Like, how does it happen? How does it work? Between two people.”

     She squeezed her legs together as he played with her hair, her body getting excited by hearing the word fall from his mouth. But he was her student, for goodness’ sake! He just … wanted to be prepared for their future classes. She shifted towards him slightly and gestured to her body, staunchly avoiding his gaze. “Um, so, women actually have three openings in their pelvic area. There’s-

     “Not like that, prof,” Jason interrupted her, his lips curling into that irresistible smirk again. X felt her cheeks heat up at the look on his face - at the teasing tone in his voice as he addressed her by that term. Then she lowered her gaze again and began fidgeting with her fingers. Jason snickered at her reaction and brushed his fingers along the back of her neck. “There’s this girl that I really like. And I’d like to know how to … take care of her. Could you teach me that? Professor?”

     X clenched her muscles to stop the shiver from running down her spine at the gruff tone of his voice. 

     “Um, okay. But, um, I guess … Should we … go to my bed?” she suggested nervously, sneaking a glance at him to gauge his reaction. Jason gestured for her to lead the way, then stood up to follow behind her as she walked to her bedroom. She took a cautious seat on the end of her bed and Jason sank into it beside her. “Um, so, I guess you could start with foreplay?”

     Jason raised an eyebrow in question, pretending he had no idea what she was talking about, and X shifted her body to face him, her nerves disappearing as she went into ‘professor-mode’. 

     “So, foreplay is like kissing and touching and that kind of stuff. Just to warm you and your partner up so you can get in the mood a little more?” she explained matter-of-factly. “It’s also a good chance for you to just appreciate one another and make the other person feel desired.”

     Jason nodded in understanding and narrowed his eyes as if he was thinking about it. “Okay. So … how would that work?”

     “Um, well, so … some people have kinks? Like, um, roleplay or bondage or …” X’s eyes widened midway through her explanation and she waved her hands in front of her face. “But you don’t have to do that! You can always just go for the classic kissing and stuff.” 

     She shrugged, like it was no big deal, and Jason inched closer to her. “Hmm. Could you show me? Just so I can get a better understanding?”

     “Um, okay.” X shuffled closer to him, then leaned forward and closed her eyes, puckering her lips slightly as she waited. Jason grinned and cupped her cheek in his hand as he leaned forward to press his lips to hers. He brushed his tongue against her closed mouth and she parted her lips in response, allowing him to slide between them and stroke her tongue with his. She let out a little moan at the taste of him and Jason smiled before sliding his hand down to her waist and tugging at her. X twisted her legs to get closer to him and Jason groaned as she ran her palm up his chest and to his shoulder. She gasped as he grabbed her waist and pulled her up onto his lap, his mouth never leaving hers. Then she shuddered when he slid his hands beneath her shirt and up her back.

     He nipped at her lower lip as he dragged his fingers down her back and she let out a little squeak at the action. God, she was cute. Jason squeezed her waist appreciatively, delighting in her perfect curves, and moved his lips to her neck. “You’re such a good kisser, professor.” 

     She tightened her grip on his shoulders and squeezed her legs together, her body starting to heat up at the intimate way he was touching her and moving his lips along her skin. “T-Thank you.”

     He chuckled at her nervous squeak and X shivered as the low vibrations of the sound rumbled against her neck. Jason moaned and glided his hands up her sides as he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth. “So. What’s next?”

     X whimpered as he nipped at her collarbone, his teeth grazing her skin teasingly. What were they supposed to be doing again? “Um, we’d … You can … start taking … our clothes off?”

     “Mmm,” Jason hummed in excitement as he pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck. Then he straightened to pull her shirt off. His eyes darkened with lust when he saw her almost completely bare before him. He ran his hands up and down her sides and swallowed hard as his gaze travelled over her body. “Prof, can I … Can I just …”

     Jason tugged her hips closer to his and dipped his head between her breasts to press a kiss there. He trailed his lips down her chest then pulled on the waistband of her bra with his teeth. X sucked in a breath when he released it, allowing the band to snap against her skin and cloud her thoughts with arousal. He was so good, but her mind had become much too drowsy with lust for her to realise that he’d probably been lying about not knowing anything about sex. Jason grinned at the dazed look on her face, then unclasped her bra and slid it off of her. 

     “F*ck,” he breathed, taking in the sight of her beautiful body. She was even more gorgeous than he’d imagined - than any of them had probably imagined - and he couldn’t believe that he was the lucky one who got to taste her. He reached up to cup her breasts in his hands, then groaned at the feeling of her soft flesh between his fingers. “What should I do now, professor?” 

     Her toes curled at the gruff sound of his voice and her nipples tingled as he brought his mouth closer to them, his warm breath drifting over her skin teasingly. She shifted in position as she felt the arousal starting to leak out of her and Jason chuckled lowly against her chest. “J-Jason …” 

     F******ck. To hear her say his name like that? His name? When more than half the students in her class had dreamed about f*cking her at some point or another? Shit. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, tickling her lightly, and she rolled her hips against his involuntarily. 

     “Argh, f*ck!” he growled, feeling his cock start to harden in excitement. 

     “Ah! J-Jason!” his pretty little professor whined, grinding herself against him as he closed his mouth around her breast and sucked on her thirstily. He squeezed her waist, rocking her body against his, and she gasped at the feeling of his dick poking her thigh through his jeans. 

     Holy shit, he was amazing! His tongue, swirling around her nipple as he basically swallowed her breast in his mouth? His fingers, brushing all over her skin and squeezing her curves appreciatively? And his thighs? His firm, muscled thighs that were hiding god-knew-how-big-of-a-dick between them? Jason released her breast only to take hold of the other and bounce them between his hands before showering them with hungry kisses. 

     “Jason,” she breathed, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling on it desperately. Jason chuckled and nipped at her collarbone, then growled when she whimpered at the feeling. He sat back and ripped his shirt off, then flipped them over so she was trapped beneath him on the bed. X looked up at him with wide eyes and he flashed her a wicked smirk, causing her to gulp at the sight. 

     Shiiiiiiit. He was so large and so toned, looming over her in a way that made her stomach flip through an entire gymnastics routine. She curled into herself, covering her chest with her forearms shyly. But Jason took hold of her wrists and pinned her to the bed beneath him, trapping her. He let his eyes run down her body hungrily, then he lifted his gaze back to hers and raised an eyebrow in question. “What next, sweetheart?” 

     “J-Jason,” she stammered, trembling at the way he looked down at her - like he was a predator and she was his helpless prey he couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into. “I don’t think-” 

     “Professor,” he drawled lazily, his dark hair falling into his mossy green eyes. “I thought you said you’d help me out if I ever needed it.” 

     He lowered himself on top of her, his hard chest pressing into her soft breasts, his lips just inches away from hers. “And I really need your help right now.” 

     He rolled his hips against hers, indicating what, exactly, he needed help with, and her back arched off the mattress in response. She turned back to him, her brain fuzzy with lust again, and nodded drowsily. “Yes.”

     Jason grinned at her consent and ran his hands down her body as he sat back. He tore off his jeans before she could change her mind, then pulled off her little shorts and tossed them out of her reach. 

     “F*ck,” he breathed, his eyes roving over her naked body, her tanned skin and soft curves so perfect beneath him. He pressed his hips against hers and dragged his cock along her length and X sucked in a breath at the feeling. 

     “Jason,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and digging her fingers into his muscles. God, he felt good, thick and hard and so warm against her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and she twisted her fingers into his hair as he slipped his hands between her legs. He slid his fingers up and down her length, scissoring her clit and teasing her hole. Then he dipped a finger into her entrance and curled it against her walls. Her hips bucked off the mattress as her body tightened at the feeling and she moaned his name again. 

     “X,” Jason groaned, his voice muffled by the way his mouth was pressed against her shoulder. He pushed himself off of her and pulled his finger out of her, then shuffled back so he could lower his mouth to her p*ssy. X pushed herself up to her elbows and shot him a curious look as he smiled at her. And then he licked a line right up her centre and she found herself collapsing back onto the mattress in ecstasy. She gripped onto the bedsheets as he began kissing and suckling on her, her body fighting to move against his strong arms that held her down against the mattress. “X …”

     She whimpered as he mumbled her name, the vibrations of his voice rumbling through her core and caressing her very bones. Holy shit, he was good! She didn’t think she’d ever had anyone please her so thoroughly before; anyone who ate her out like she was the most delicious thing they’d ever tasted. She squirmed and writhed against the bed, whining at the way he slowed down his movements every time he felt her reaching her edge. “Jason!” 

     F*ck, she was cute. The little sounds she’d made everytime he stole her orgasm away from her? He dug his fingers into her thighs, enjoying the way her lovely breasts bounced up and down everytime she wriggled against the bed. He pulled her folds into his mouth, then gave her p*ssy one last kiss before he sat up and pulled her hips against his. He took hold of his cock, hot and fat in his hand, and traced it around her entrance, coating himself in her sticky liquid. X grabbed his wrist quickly, stopping him before he could plunge himself into her, and he raised an eyebrow in question. She released her grip on him and twisted around to pull something out of her drawer. 

     “You should … use this … if you want her … to enjoy it,” she told him, forcing the words out between shallow breaths. He glanced down at the tube she was holding out to him, then rearranged his features into an expression of confusion. 

     “What’s that?” X sat up and opened the cover to squeeze some of the liquid onto her hand. 

     “It’s lubricant,” she explained to him, setting the tube aside and rubbing it between her palms. “It’ll help you go in easier and make the experience more enjoyable for her.” Jason nodded carefully, trying not to let his excitement at having her fingers all over him show on his features. He sat back on his thighs, waiting obediently for her to continue, and X took hold of him without hesitation. He dug his fingers into the mattress as she coated his cock with the warm liquid, swallowing down his pleased groans at the way she fisted him between her hands so delightfully. He looked down at her cute little face, her curly hair framing her features so perfectly, and the prec*m began leaking from his tip at the thought of being inside her mouth. F*ck, he could just imagine it, stuffing his lovely little professor’s mouth full with his cock. Shit. How many other students would kill to be him right now? X sat up and gathered her hair behind her shoulders before laying back on the bed and spreading her legs wide. She gestured down to her p*ssy, blushing and leaking for him, and Jason swallowed hard at the sight. 

     She kept her eyes fixed on his as he crawled over her, his biceps flexing with every move he made. God, he was hot. Whoever this girl was who he was pursuing was a very lucky girl indeed. Jason slid his hand down her body, then took hold of his cock and began prodding at her entrance. “Tell me if it hurts, professor. I’ll take it slow for you.” 

     X nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. Then she let out a soft moan as he entered her, his thick cock easing her open and brushing up against her walls. She bent her knees as he continued pushing in deeper and deeper, shifting her position so she could better accommodate the entire length of him. And then he bottomed out inside of her and she felt her eyes watering with pleasure and how fully he filled her up. “Shit, Jason.” 

     He chuckled at hearing the curse fall from her lips, then bent over to give her a quick kiss. She latched onto his lips immediately, pulling him down so she could slide her tongue into his mouth and tangle it with his. She moaned again as he kissed her back and he curled his hand around her waist to hold her tight against him. Shit, she felt good, her body so soft and perfect beneath his. F*ck. His hips began moving against hers, his cock begging him for relief and his pretty little professor’s head fell back in delight. He lowered himself on top of her, wrapping her up in his arms, and X whined and mewled as he thrust his cock in and out of her. 

     “X,” he murmured, his voice low and throaty as he repeated her name with every thrust of his hips. Holy shit, he felt amazing, stuffing her up with that nice, fat cock of his. She tangled her fingers in his hair as he pumped himself in and out of her, holding him close against her so she could feel every line of his defined muscles pressing up against her. Shit, he felt good. 

     He picked up his pace, his movements getting faster and harder as he felt himself approaching his edge. But she came first, her p*ssy squeezing his dick so deliciously that his hips stuttered and a choked whimper escaped his throat. 

     “X,” he gasped, his abdomen tightening as she pulsed and throbbed around him. And then he came, his entire body finally relaxing as his c*m shot out of him and into her. He sighed and collapsed on top of her as his dick went limp inside of her. “F*ck.” 

     She giggled at his muttered curse, then ran her fingers through his hair, brushing the soft strands lazily as he cuddled her against him. Jason groaned as he pushed himself off of her after a while and X felt her stomach flip at the sight of him leaning over her.  

     “Thanks for the biology lesson, professor.” He grinned and cupped her cheek in his hand, then bent over to begin kissing her. He moaned at the sweet taste of her in his mouth, then straightened again so he could look down upon her. 

     Her entire body buzzed with delight as she pushed herself onto her elbows, her p*ssy heating up again at the feeling of his dick nestled deep inside of her. Her eyes trailed over his body, tracing the outlines of each of his muscles, and she felt herself start to leak around him again at the sight. Shit, he was hot. She swallowed down her thoughts and pulled her gaze away from his, trying to wrestle back control of her brain. “Um, no problem, Jace. Let me know if … if it helped. With that … girl you like.” 

     He grinned and leaned into her, amused by her cluelessness in the situation. “Well, if it didn’t, I could always come back for another lesson, right, prof?” 

     He pressed his lips to the side of her neck and X’s head fell back in response, exposing even more of her throat for him to graze his teeth again. He licked and nibbled on her skin, making his way up her neck to suck on her earlobe. X moaned as he tugged on her soft flesh with his teeth and Jason lowered his mouth to her shoulder to press a kiss there before straightening again. He fixed her with a questioning look and X shook her head at him in confusion. “What?” 

     “I said,” Jason began, running his hand along her side as his eyes trailed over her body and down to the part where they were still joined together, “if you didn’t like that, I could always come back for another lesson. Professor.” He pressed his lips to hers before she could digest his words, smiling against her mouth as he kissed her softly. 

     “Me?” she asked, unsure if she’d heard him right. “If I didn’t like that?” Jason snickered and swirled his tongue around her mouth before stopping to mumble against her lips. 

     “You think I could pay attention to anyone else when I’ve got such a pretty little professor standing in front of me every week? You’re so f*cking beautiful, sweetheart.” He wrapped an arm around her lower back, holding her against him as he kissed her deeper this time. X curled her legs around his waist, but her entire body tightened when she finally understood the meaning of his words. 

     “Wait,” she breathed, trying to catch her breath after he finally pulled his lips away from hers. She looked up at him, eyes wide with question, and Jason’s irises darkened at the sight. “This … This was all for me?” Jason nodded, his lips twitching with amusement at the incredulous look on her face, and X lowered her gaze, suddenly shy. 

     “Oh,” she murmured softly, trying to figure out how to respond to the revelation. Jason chuckled and sat back so he could lift her up onto his lap. 

     “Come on, professor,” he told her, holding her perfect little body close against his. “You have to know that everyone in our class has dreamed of f*cking you at least once.” 

     X curled into herself, embarrassed by the thought. “I’m sure not everyone has thought of that. Is that the only reason they’re in my class?” 

     She flashed him a nervous expression, suddenly doubting her talents and skills, and Jason shook his head quickly before brushing her hair away from her face.

     “You’re an amazing teacher, X,” he reassured her, stroking her back soothingly. “I mean, look how much you’ve helped me out. Everyone always thought I was gonna be hopeless, but you made me believe I could actually make something of myself.” Her features broke into a pleased smile at his words and Jason felt his heart flutter at the sight. He pulled her closer to him so he could begin kissing her again and she sank into his chest as she slid her tongue into his mouth. 

     “But, um,” X began apprehensively, fidgeting with her fingers as she pulled back from him. She snuck a glance at him, then quickly lowered her gaze again. “This is highly inappropriate, Jason. We shouldn’t be doing this as long as you’re in my class.” 

     He opened his mouth to respond, but she beat him to it, cutting him off with an adorable twist of her lips. “And don’t say you’ll just drop out! You’ve worked so hard and I really want to see you get a good grade at the end of it.” 

     God, she was cute. Too cute for him to keep his hands off of her for that long. Jason wrapped his arms around her soft curves and began moving his hips as he pulled her into his chest, slowly beginning to thrust himself in and out of her again. X let out a squeak as her body contracted with arousal, responding to him of its own volition, and Jason chuckled at her reaction. “Whatever you say, professor.” 

     “Miss X is looking extra cute today,” Roy observed, leaning over to nudge Jason’s side with his elbow. 

     “Yeah,” Wally agreed, sighing with longing at the sight of her bare legs. “How am I supposed to concentrate on anything when she's wearing that cute little skirt?” Jason rolled his eyes at their teasing, but let his eyes wander over her tight little body as she walked across the stage. His mouth began to water as his eyes lingered on the curve of her ass and he tapped his fingers against his arm impatiently. Maybe he'd make her keep that pretty little skirt on while he sat her down on his cock later. The room filled with the sound of shuffling feet as everyone gathered their things to start leaving and Jason waved his friends off as they gestured to the door. 

     “I'll catch up with you guys later,” he assured them lazily. “I have a few questions for Miss X.” They shrugged and bounced down the stairs, waving goodbye to their professor along the way. Jason slung his bag over one shoulder and strolled down to the platform where his gorgeous little professor had been pulled into a conversation with some of the other students. 

     “I think it depends on the issue for me,” she replied to one of their questions. “Like, if you're genetically predisposed to mental illness, you’re incredibly likely to get it, despite your circumstances. But if you're predisposed to addiction and you're just never exposed to any addictive substances, then you'll probably be fine.” Her eyes were bright with excitement as she spoke and Jason couldn’t help the warm feeling that spread through his chest at the sight. 

     “That's really interesting, professor,” one of the guys whose name Jason had never bothered to learn agreed. “But what about in terms of … sexual preferences? I read ahead in our textbook and saw that immunocompatibility can play a big role in how sexually attracted we are to someone.” 

     And that was his cue to step in. X nodded along to the question, completely oblivious to the fact that the guy was hitting on her right now, and began animatedly explaining the concept of biodiversity. Jason walked up behind the guy and flashed his professor a lazy smirk, distracting her and causing her to lose her place. 

     “Um, so, we'll be going into more depth when we reach that topic later, but it's nice to see my students taking an interest in the subject!” She grinned at him, then her gaze flickered back to Jason, tall and large and studying her with that hungry look on his face. Shit, he was hot. She swallowed hard and returned her attention to Kenneth as he walked out the door. 

     “You ready for our tutoring session? Professor?” Jason asked, making his voice low as he stepped closer to her. He’d shown up at her house everyday after that first time, either with flowers or chocolates or teddies or a dinner reservation to an eye-wateringly expensive restaurant. She’d resisted at first, stammering out her arguments about him being her student and it comprising their morals and ethics. But she could only hold out for so long, what with his intense gaze and his mischievous smirk and his muscular build. She dragged her gaze away from him and shifted in position, her stomach flipping with excitement at the memory of him pressed up against her. Then she shoved her laptop into her backpack and nodded at the door. 

     “Um, yeah. Let’s go.” 

     “So these are the mammary glands and they only produce milk after the woman has given birth,” Jason recited, kneading her breasts in his large hands. X shifted in her seat, then whimpered as she felt his cock brush up against her walls. 

     “Jason,” she whined, flopping back against his shoulder as he continued to tease her. He chuckled against her neck and moved one hand down to grip her thigh beneath her skirt. 

     “Come on, professor,” he pleaded, moving his hips slightly so he squelched around inside of her. Shit, she felt good. X let out a desperate moan at the feeling of him stuffing her so fully and Jason sucked in a breath as her p*ssy clamped around his dick. “F*ck.” 

     She squirmed as he squeezed her against his hard chest and grazed her neck with his teeth. But that only made her body all the more aware of his dick plugging her up and she felt her uterus give another hard contraction around him. “Jason!” 

     “Shit,” he sighed, unable to control himself any longer. He grabbed onto her waist and stood up, bending her over the table so he had the perfect angle to hit her at. Then he began thrusting himself in and out of her, shaking the table beneath her and forcing the desperate whines to fall from her mouth. He flipped her skirt up as he continued pumping her full of his cock, then smacked her ass before digging his fingers into her soft flesh. X cried out as his palm slapped her skin, then she whimpered and arched her back as he held her down against the table. 

     God, she was so f*cking cute! He wanted - he needed - to look at her adorable little face as she whined and moaned for him. Jason pulled himself out of her and X let out a little squeak of surprise at the sudden absence of him. She was just about to mewl in protest when he flipped her over and slid her back onto his cock. Her body tensed as he entered her again, but then she relaxed, letting him bottom out inside of her. Jason lifted her up and she curled her legs around his waist so he could carry her over to the sofa. X buried her face in the crook of his neck and he stroked her back gently before laying her down. He leaned over her, his biceps flexing as he held himself above her and X flashed him a sweet smile. Jason groaned at the sight and pressed his lips to hers as he began moving his hips against hers again. 

     Shit, shit, shit! She could barely form a coherent thought with the way he was rubbing up against her walls so very deliciously. She dragged her fingers down his back as her p*ssy contracted around him, then arched her back off the bed so she could feel his abdomen rubbing against her clit. Jason groaned into the crook of her neck, then nipped at her earlobe, his hips never ceasing their relentless pace. Then finally, she was shaking and shuddering beneath him, her hips bucking wildly off the sofa as her p*ssy throbbed around his dick. 

     “F*ck!” Jason choked out, continuing to thrust his hips against hers as he reached his orgasm. His movements faltered as he pumped her full of his c*m, and then he was panting over her, his broad chest heaving for breath as he gazed down at her. X reached up to brush her fingers along his jaw and Jason bent over to slide his tongue between her lips and start kissing her again. 

     She sighed as he entered her mouth, delighting in the tangy taste of him on her tongue. She slid her fingers into his hair and curled herself around him as she kissed him back, moaning softly into his mouth every time his chest brushed against her nipples. 

     “Jason,” she spoke in between kisses. “There are only a few more weeks left of the term. We can just wait until then, right?” Jason groaned against her mouth in disagreement. 

     “How the hell am I supposed to keep my hands off of you for that long, sweetheart?” he whined, running his hands all over her soft little body. “So f*cking perfect.” X giggled and scratched his back lightly with her fingernails. Then she pushed her fingers into his hair and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. Jason let out a contented hum at the action and X smiled before pawing at his shoulder and signalling for him to sit up. Her eyes ran over the stark outlines of his bulky muscles, then she lifted her gaze up to his. 

     “But, Jay … What if you get bored of me?” She fixed him with a nervous look, but he was too distracted by the way she’d called him by his nickname to soothe her concerns. 

     “Wait,” he sighed, hanging his head so that his dark hair fell into his eyes. “Call me that again, princess.” 

     A tingle zapped through her at the new term of affection he’d given her and she reached up to cup his face in her hands. “Jay?” 

     He groaned and X laughed at the defeated slump of his shoulders. He lowered himself back on top of her, bringing his mouth just a breath away from hers, and her stomach buzzed as her fingers brushed over the hint of stubble coating his jaw. “How the f*ck could I get bored of you, princess?” 

     He moaned as he brushed his nose up the length of her neck and grinded his hips down on hers. X sucked in a breath and tightened her grip on him as she felt his dick sliding against her walls. She whimpered at the sensation and Jason chuckled at the way her lower lip trembled before he tugged on it with his teeth. 

     “But you’re so cool and I’m just a boring little professor!” she squeaked out, her nerves lighting up again as he brushed his lips and tongue all over her smooth curves. 

     “You are far from boring, professor,” Jason chuckled against her collarbone, running his hands up her sides. “I always learn something new whenever I’m with you. And I’m not just talking about the sex.” She let out a squeak as he murmured that last part in her ear, her p*ssy starting to leak around his dick still buried inside of her. 

     “O-Okay,” she conceded, her mind starting to grow fuzzy with lust again. “But-”

     “No buts, professor,” Jason warned her, shifting forward so that he bottomed out inside of her again. X let out a low moan, her head falling back in pleasure at the sensation, and Jason seized the opportunity to trail his lips up her throat. “If that ever happens, fail me. Mmm and then … and then ignore me. For a whole week. Don’t talk to me until … until I’m crazy for you again.” He squeezed her breast as he pressed his lips to the base of her ear, his low moans rumbling through her skin and along her bones. 

     “Okay,” X giggled as her back arched off the bed in response to his teasing. Jason swore under his breath at the way her p*ssy squeezed his dick and X pulled him back down to her so she could kiss him. She smiled against his lips and Jason felt a warmth rush through his chest at her delight. “I really like you, Jay.” 

     He grinned, keeping his mouth on hers as he spoke. “I really like you too, X.” 

[formulauno98]

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Seven / Wednesday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst!!! This one is mildly spicy, 18+ only. This is going to be a slow burn and if you're uncomfortable with the idea of two-timing don't read this.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this.

WEDNESDAY MORNING

Reckless. Stupid. Thoughtless. Three words described what you had just done with your boyfriend’s boss. Cheating was the one thing you found truly abhorrent, and you’d gone and done it. 

You’d laid beside Toto for as long as you possibly could before getting up and setting about returning to your cabin, much to the older man’s protests. 

“Don’t go,” he said, looking up at you, his brown eyes slightly drooped with tiredness.

“And how would I explain that to George?” you said, a little sharply, “As it stands it will be a miracle if he didn’t notice me gone.”

“Stop worrying, just say you went to get some fresh air,” said Toto, yawning as he sat up and grabbed your hips, trying to pull you back into bed.

You raised an eyebrow, “You’re a little too good at this.”

Toto replied, “Look, I know this is not great. But I want to make the most of it.”

You sighed, allowing him to pull you close and stroking his head as he rested it on your stomach.

“Me too.” you said, sadness in your voice, “But I need to go.”

“You should shower first, you smell like sex,” said Toto in a serious tone.

“You really are a little too good at this. Is this the point where I ask you if you’ve done this before?” you asked, a little taken aback.

“No, but George is not stupid.” he said, ruffling his hand through his hair, “It is better if we tell him than he figures it out. But you don’t want to tell him at two in the morning.”

You looked at Toto sadly, knowing that he was right. What a mess. “Agreed. I’ll sort this.” detaching yourself from Toto’s grasp, you added, “ Ok, I’m going to take a shower, I’ll be quick.”

Looking a little disappointed, Toto sunk back into his pillows, clearly distracted, “No, I should sort this.”

“We’ll both sort it.” you said firmly, making your way over to the bathroom, “It takes two to tango and it takes two to tell George.”

– – – 

Having taken a quick shower in Toto’s bathroom, washing away the scent of your betrayal, you came back into his room to find him snoozing in bed, his dark hair deliciously rumpled. Making your way over, you bent down to press a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight,” you said quietly, not sure if he would even hear.

“Goodnight,” he said, his eyes fluttering open, wrapping his arms around your waist for a final time, “We will talk in the morning.”

“Yep,” you said. 

As you snuck out of Toto’s master suite and back along the corridor to your cabin, you suddenly felt awkward and sick to your stomach. You truly felt like the worst person in the world. 

Slipping into bed, you tried to be as quiet as possible so as to not wake George who was sound asleep. Guilt coursed through your veins as you knew you had to tell him the truth before he figured it out. 

Trying your best to drop off to sleep, it took a long time to settle, your heart racing furiously. Eventually, you drifted off to a restless sleep full of strange dreams.

– – – 

Waking up early, you still couldn’t shake the sick feeling. Light was creeping in and George was asleep beside you, curled up in the duvet. The memory of the previous night with Toto flooded back, filling you with a mixture of regret and guilt. How could you have let yourself get swept away like that? 

George didn't deserve this. He was kind, loving, and trusted you completely. The thought of having betrayed him gnawed at your conscience, but you knew you only had one more day at sea and it wouldn’t be fair to dump this on him and ruin his holiday. You’d tell him once you were back on dry land. You could only hope that Toto would not rouse his suspicions. You hoped that he wouldn’t but in truth, you didn’t know him well enough to be sure.

Plagued by your thoughts, you gently slipped out of bed, careful not to wake George as you quietly dressed for the day. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and forced a smile as you turned back to George, who was stirring from his deep sleep.

"Good morning," you said softly as he roused.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, really well," you lied, your heart aching with the deception. "Ready for breakfast?"

"Definitely," he replied, sitting up and stretching. "Let's see what they have for us today."

– – – 

Together, you made your way to the deck where breakfast was being served. Thankfully Toto was already sitting at the head of the table, flanked by James and Cara, chatting away animatedly. John and Marion sat next to them, leaving you and George to take the remaining seats at the other end of the table.

George was already buzzing with excitement about the afternoon’s jet ski race. "Ready to lose?" he teased, kicking you playfully under the table.

You forced a smile, your mind still preoccupied, "We'll see about that."

As you sipped your coffee, you caught sight of Toto. He met your gaze for a brief moment, his expression unreadable, before quickly looking away. A pang of guilt shot through you, but you quickly masked it with another smile for George.

"Are you okay?" George asked, his brow furrowing with concern. "You seem a bit off."

You shook your head. "Just a little tired, I guess. Probably didn't sleep as well as I thought." 

He reached across the table, squeezing your hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, we'll take it easy today. It’s our last day, let’s make the most of it."

"Thanks," you said, your heart aching at his kindness. You squeezed his hand back, determined to keep up the facade for the rest of the trip.

WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON

The morning had passed in a blur as everyone lounged on the deck, soaking up the sun. As George had promised, you had taken it easy and made the most of the glorious weather. You kept a careful distance from Toto, paranoid that a single look could give you away so you were somewhat relieved when the time came to set up the jet skis. It was a welcome distraction from maintaining the charade.

Having had a lazy lunch, everyone was now gathered where the two jetskis were lined up, gleaming in the sunlight. As planned, the crew had set up a course around a nearby island, marked out by brightly coloured buoys. Toto, looking as composed as ever, was busy ensuring everyone had the proper safety gear.

“Alright, everybody,” he called out, gesturing towards where the buoys floated, “Let’s go over the course one more time. We start here, head out to that buoy near the cliffs, loop around it and come back. Two at a time. Best time wins.”

The group murmured their agreement to the rules, the guys eager to get on with the race.

George, ever the competitor, grinned widely, “Ready boss.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

– – – 

James and John were the first to go, trash talk filling the air as they revved their engines and took off, sending up sprays of water. Predictably James comfortably beat John, executing the swerves of the slalom perfectly as the rest of you watched from the deck, cheering them on whilst Toto diligently stood with a stopwatch to record their times.

Cara and Marion were next, putting on a decent show but neither of them as fast as their husbands. Next followed George and Toto. It was James’ turn to time them with the stopwatch and as the two men lined up, you couldn’t help but notice George’s look of steely determination. It was a look that seemed to run deeper than friendly competition, but maybe you were imagining it. You tried to shake your paranoia.

Unsurprisingly George wiped the floor with Toto, clearing the course far faster than anyone else. Of course, everyone knew that he would always have the edge but you still couldn’t help but be impressed by his speed and agility.

“Well done,” you said, praising George as he stepped back onto the yacht, Toto shooting you a strange look from behind him. Was he jealous? You couldn’t figure him out.

“I guess I had the weight advantage,” said George, in a joking tone that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I’ll remember that.” said Toto, laughing at the younger man before coming closer and turning to you, “More importantly, do you remember our bet?” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

Startled by his sudden closeness, you tried to keep a level head. “Of course,” you replied, “You’re going down, Wolff.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.”

“What’s this?” asked George, curious what you were discussing.

“The bet from last night. Slowest one out of us two walks the passerelle,” you said, calmly.

“It wasn’t just that.” said Toto, his eyes sparkling dangerously, “We agreed that whoever is slowest walks the passerelle naked.”

James and John laughed loudly at this revelation, Cara shot you a knowing look and George’s eyes widened.

“When were you going to tell me that?” he asked, taken aback that you were making such bets with his boss.

Thinking on your feet, “In my defense we were tipsy and I didn’t think he’d follow through.” Shooting Toto a warning look, “But game on Toto.”

“Game on,” he said.

Ever the pot stirrer, John chimed in, “Toto should race you, it’s not fair if you do it alone. You’ll win too easily.”

“He has a point. We are seven and everyone else has gone” said Toto, “I’ll race you.”

“Fine,” you said pouting, “I’ll still win.”

George once again looked put out, turning to you, “You better beat him, I don’t want everyone seeing you naked.”

Laughing nervously, you couldn’t help but think that that was the least of his problems. “Course I will, I’ve learnt from the best,” you said, winking at him.

The group cheered in agreement, the excitement palpable as you climbed onto the jetski beside Toto, adrenaline pumping. The engine roared to life beneath you as you positioned yourself at the starting line. The course looked challenging, with its tight turns and choppy waves near the island, but you were determined to win.

James raised his hand. "On your marks, get set, go!"

You shot forward, the wind whipping through your hair as you approached the island. Ever competitive, you glanced to your right and saw Toto keeping pace with you. Damn, he was actually fast.

The first turn was sharp and you leaned into it, feeling the cool spray of the water on your face. You glanced back and saw that you had gained a slight lead on Toto, his weight undoubtedly slowing him down.

As you approached the buoy near the cliffs, you glanced to your left and saw Toto pulling up alongside you, his expression focused. You exchanged a brief, intense look before he accelerated, trying to overtake you. Determined, you pushed your jetski harder, matching his speed.

The final stretch was a straight shot back to the yacht. With everything you had, you leaned forward, urging your jetski to go faster. The finish line was within sight, the yacht growing larger with every second. Toto was right next to you, his jetski inches from yours.

In a final burst of speed, you crossed the finish line before Toto, the cheers of your friends echoing in your ears. You looked over at Toto and saw the surprise and admiration in his eyes.

George, who was waiting on the deck eagerly laughed, sighing with relief as you had beaten Toto. "Well done, you smashed it!!"

You grinned, catching your breath. "Thanks! That was close."

Toto approached you, his expression a mix of amusement and respect. "Looks like I owe you a forfeit," he said.

You laughed, the tension between you momentarily forgotten. "Indeed you do."

WEDNESDAY EVENING

The final dinner of your trip was a lively affair, the group still buzzing from the jetski race. George was in high spirits, recounting the race in great detail to James and John, reliving every turn. Toto was more reserved, but there was a sparkle in his eye whenever he looked over at you. You tried not to meet his eyes but somehow they kept finding you.

After dessert, the moment of truth arrived. It was time for Toto to pay his forfeit. You were shocked he was doing so, let alone so publicly but the man continued to surprise you. The group gathered on the deck as Toto stood by the passerelle, a playful smile on his face.

"Alright then," James said, clapping Toto on the back. "Time to pay up, boss."

Toto shrugged, "A bet is a bet." He turned to you, a grin on his face, dimples out in full force, "Care to join me?"

Stood next to you, George crossed his arms, getting defensive, “No she bloody does not.” 

You laughed, shaking your head, trying to laugh off George’s protectiveness, "Not this time. I'll let you have this one."

“Suit yourself,” said Toto before stepping onto the passerelle and taking a few steps. With a dramatic flourish, he stripped off down to his boxers, the group cheering and laughing as he prepared for his plunge. He turned to you one last time, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Here goes nothing," he said, and with that, he tore off his boxers, his bare ass shining under the moonlight. He took two more steps along the passerelle and dove gracefully into the water, the group howling with laughter as he surfaced, shaking the water from his hair. 

“It’s freezing,” he complained as swam back to the yacht, nevertheless grinning from ear to ear.

Trying your best to avert your eyes you muttered to George, “I didn’t think he would actually do it.”

Loosening up somewhat, George smirked, “Old perv just wanted to see you naked.”

Surprised by George’s harsh words for his boss who he normally admired, you stuttered, “I doubt that highly.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” said George, his jaw tightening as Toto climbed back on board, sheepishly covering himself before wrapping a towel around his waist and approaching you. "All’s fair," he said, smiling broadly.

Feeling incredibly awkward, you stood beside George, not sure what to say. Thankfully, Marion broke the silence, “Well that was a sight for sore eyes Toto.”

“Oh no, my eyes are most definitely sore,” said John, playfully nudging his wife who was openly eyeing up Toto, still only dressed in a towel.

Blushing, Toto made his way across the deck and towards the door, “Well on that note, I think it’s time for a nightcap, what do you all think?”

– – – 

Sat once again on the sun deck, this time bathed in moonlight, the group reconvened for one last drink. The crew had poured generous glasses of whiskey and wine, passing them around. You took a glass of red wine, savouring the tang as you settled into a comfortable lounge chair. Toto, now fully dressed and wrapped in a blanket for warmth, was the centre of attention, regaling everyone with silly stories.

As you laughed at one of Toto's jokes, your eyes met his for a moment longer than usual. He smiled at you, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. You quickly looked away, focusing on your wine, but you couldn't help but steal another glance his way a few minutes later. Toto was doing the same and your eyes locked again, this time for a heartbeat longer.

Despite being deep in conversation with James, George, perceptive as always, seemed to catch the exchange. He was sitting next to you, and you felt his hand gently squeeze your knee, a silent acknowledgement that he had noticed. He leaned in close, his voice low enough for only you to hear. "We need to talk later, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. "Okay."

Returning to his conversation with James, George nodded curtly and turned away once again, leaving you alone in your thoughts. Cara, who had been quietly observing the scene, made her way over to you and took the seat next to yours. She held a glass of white wine, her fingers idly tracing the rim.

"Quite a day, huh?" she said, her eyes meeting yours with a knowing look.

“You could say that.” you said, “The race was fun.”

“Yes it was.” she agreed, “Remember what we talked about.”

Not sure if she was asking or simply stating, you nodded and had another sip of wine.

Interrupting your conversation, George turned once again to face you, “Love, you’ve lost an earring,” he said, his brows knitted together in concern.

“Oh no!” you said, your hand automatically going to your ear to check, “Oh no, those are my favourites.”

“Don’t panic, it has to be around here somewhere.” said George patting you on the shoulder as he stood up, “Guys, has anyone seen a gold earring?”

As the group started to look around, you tried to think where it could have fallen out. Where had you been? What would have knocked it out of your ear?

That’s when it struck you. You weren’t one hundred per cent sure but you would bet money that it was somewhere in Toto’s bed, last night’s activities shaking your head thoroughly. You distinctly remembered him knocking your head against the headboard.

You tried to catch Toto’s eye to no avail as you needed to check but didn’t want to arouse suspicion.

Carrying on looking, George had now taken all the sofa cushions off the chairs where you had been sat, ever your knight in shining armour.

“I’m going to look inside, it might be in our cabin,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t come with you.

“That’s a good shout actually, I’ll keep looking here and then up on the sun deck,” he said kindly.

“Thanks love,” you said, turning away to go back inside.

You had taken a few steps along the corridor when you heard the door open behind you. It was Toto.

“I think I know where it is,” you said, turning back towards him. “I think it got knocked off last night.”

Toto’s eyes widened, “Fuck, okay, I’ll go and have a look.” he said, making his way down the corridor towards his cabin.

Under the pretence of looking in your cabin, you followed him along the corridor, keeping your voice low, “I am going to look in my cabin, just in case.”

“Sure, said Toto, disappearing around the corner, “If not, maybe it fell off during the race.”

“Shit.” you said, “I didn’t think of that. I’ll go and check there afterwards maybe.”

– – – 

Having stripped the duvet off of your bed, you were now confident it was not in your room and you were busy rearranging the bed when there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Come in,” you called out, thinking it was George.

The door creaked open and to your surprise, Toto stepped inside, holding up the missing earring between his fingers. Relief washed over you, but the look on Toto's face told you that this wasn’t just a casual visit.

“Found it,” he said, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He walked over and handed it to you, his eyes searching yours for something unspoken.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the earring and clutching it tightly. “I should get back to George before he gets suspicious.”

Toto nodded, his expression serious. “Are we ever going to talk about what happened last night?”

“I’m sorry… today was a lot,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “Last night was something…”

“Something?” Toto quirked an eyebrow, stepping towards you and grabbing your hips.

You gazed into Toto’s eyes, intoxicated once more by his warm brown eyes. Answering wordlessly you leant up for a kiss, caressing his face as thoughts of last night came flooding back. As much as it pained you to admit, this man drove you crazy.

Just as you were starting to lose yourself once more, the door creaked open, causing you to jump apart.

“What the actual fuck..” 

It was George, standing aghast at the sight of you and Toto. You’d been caught red-handed.

Taglist: @prettiest-at-the-party @noooway555 @annewithaneofthegreengable  @xoscar03 @totowolfffcheco @justzluv @kravitzwhore @bborra @a-beaverhausen@amandadesantasworld

[bambi-slxt]

🤍𝐍𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: 1.9k

genre/tropes: romance, friends to lovers

summary: dating is hard, but maybe what i was looking for was easier than breathing...

warnings: none <3 pure fluff

notes from bambi: i tried a new format, what do we think? no usage of y/n, lowercase intentional, just a cutesy chris fic

busy?

nah wsp

can i come over

yeah fs, thought you said you were busy tn?

i'll explain when i get there 😵‍💫

see u soon kid 

-x-

“hey.” i let my bag sink onto the floor and threw myself across chris’s bed. 

“bro what, get off me!”

i grinned into his now-rumpled comforter. “make me.”

he snorted and yanked the covers out from under me, sending my legs flying. giggling, i stretched out over the far corner of his mattress. “thanks for letting me come over.”

“no problem. what's goin’ on?” chris had already halfway shut his laptop screen, giving me his attention. the soft pants i had bought him for christmas hung loose around his legs, one of which was pulled up at the knee. in lieu of a shirt, the towel from his shower lay draped over his shoulders. chris’s hair, dark from the water he refused to blow-dry out, stuck to his forehead in a very unflattering pattern. i tried to tell myself that, anyway.

“i was supposed to go on a date tonight,” i answered, staring at the ceiling. covered in those glow in the dark stars and planets people used to buy for their kids, it reminded me of the day chris begged for help putting them up. 

“what happened?” he asked quietly. his brows were set in a line measured by confusion and annoyance at the possible explanations.

“i got scared and ghosted him.”

“again?”

“i know.”

“you gotta quit that. these guys don't deserve it.”

“...i know.”

“why'd you get scared?” chris asked, putting his arms behind his head.

“because what if he wants me for sex and nothing else? what if he says he wants a relationship and pays the bill and opens the door for me and takes me home and tells me we don't have to do anything if i'm not comfortable and then of course we do something because i can't fucking help myself and then he got what he wanted and never speaks to me again?” 

i realized then, that i was shouting in my head and nothing had come out. chris still looked at me expectantly, his head tilted. 

“you look like a puppy,” i told him, grinning. 

“what the fuck,” he said, shaking out and shoving back the hair that threatened to encroach upon his vision.

“i got scared because…” i sighed, not entirely sure how to articulate my thoughts in a way he would understand. “Because how would i know if any of it was real?”

“that's why i don't fuck with love, like, that romantic shit,” he offered helpfully.

i glared. “thank you, christopher.”

“using my full legal name is insane.”

“you deserved it.”

“whatever bro.” chris paused. “i feel like there's something else.”

“how do you mean?”

“something else bothering you.”

“it probably has something to do with my self-confidence,” i said. “sometimes i think i deserve…everything, and sometimes i think the opposite.”

chris’s chest rose and fell with a sigh. this wasn't the first time we’d discussed the matter.

i looked over at him and his eyes met mine. i did this occasionally, the staring. it was a way to connect without speaking, which was often difficult around him. chris broke first, after a few short but comforting seconds, dipping his head to the side and gesturing me over to sit next to him. as i scooted my way over, he opened up his laptop again.

“new merch?” i asked. 

“yeah,” he murmured. “you wanna help design it?”

i took the device from him, amid quiet protests of death and torture, and began to very gently give my two cents.

“no one likes yellow chris. don't make any more yellow stuff ever again in your life.”

“I LIKE YELLOW??”

“too bad.”

we compromised on black with yellow accented font. he's such a baby sometimes.

-x-

i stayed for hours. chris let me make a shirt design, we put a show on in the background, and when i commandeered his laptop to play music, he got up to clean his room.

a few clothes on the floor does not a mess make, but chris hated things being out of place. something as small as a sock left unattended would poke the back of his brain all day. 

sometimes he would mutter things under his breath, talking to himself or singing.

“an i got all the drugs in the world that you need…”

“hold this.” (he tossed a shirt at me)

holding up a pair of sweats, chris asked, “...clean?” i shook my head. “matt’s room,” he decided, and took off up the stairs.

“you hungry?” he asked when he came back, hair disheveled.

i wrinkled my nose. “not for fast food.”

“you wanna make something?”

“god yes.”

chris laughed and pulled me off the bed. “let's go make something.”

-x-

we went up the stairs and upon hitting the landing, saw nick and madi pretzeled up together on the couch. “oh hey,” nick said, pausing whatever was on the tv. “didn't know you were here.”

“i thought you had a date,” madi said around a yawn.

chris seemed to sense the situation, or maybe he was just hungry, but whatever the case, he jumped in. “we're makin’ dinner,” he announced with a grin. 

“y’all still have pasta right?” i asked, making a beeline for the pantry and rifling through the shelves.

matt emerged from his cave, scrubbing his face with the back of his hands. “we should,” he grumbled, annoyed at the lack of sleep he was currently indulging in. 

“thank you. where.”

he nudged me over and produced a bag of angel hair noodles out of nowhere. “right in front of your face.”

“matthew…i'm gonna kill you,” i replied with zero emotion. 

he raised his eyebrows. “alright buddy. you makin’ enough for everybody?”

“don't see why not.” i turned my head and waved chris over. “we have water to boil.”

he saluted me and made his way into the kitchen, passing matt (making his way decidedly out of the kitchen).

“is the pot clean?”

“i think so.”

“can you get it?”

“yeah. you want the salt while i'm over here?”

“yes please.”

“tap water or filter water?”

i looked at him for a long moment. 

“i'm gonna get the filtered,” he said, snickering.

shaking my head with a smile, i let the stove heat up and stepped back so he could pour the water in. the muscle in his forearm tensed, offsetting the weight of the heavy filter. matt had turned the softer lights on, so gentle shadows lay over chris like a threadbare blanket. 

i stepped over and let my head rest on the side of his shoulder. his shirt smelled like him, he smelled like his bath soap and his cologne and the detergent matt used on his sheets, and his hair was dry and fluffy now because he hadn't brushed it and i could probably stay there forever-

“you okay?” he murmured.

“yeah.” backing off again, i slipped a smile on my face. “all good.”

“i think…it should be good,” chris said, scrunching his nose, fully concentrated on the precise water measurement.

i cut my eyes at him with mock concern. “it’s never that serious chris.”

“what if my pasta’s water content is important to me?”

“is it?” i put my hand on my hip, desperately fighting the smile that threatened to take over my features.

“...no. but what if it was?”

“i can't handle you anymore. when it boils will you put the noodles in?”

“noods,” he said in reply, as if that was in any way helpful or related.

“who's nudes?” Madi shot up from the couch, dark hair a mess. “your nudes??”

“no, not me, i-”

Nick’s face contorted in disgust. “someone sent you nudes?” 

“no no, it’s-”

“did you ask for them?” matt asked. having been seated closest to the kitchen and therefore fully aware of the context, he was just instigating. again.

i glared at the back of his head. “you're stupid.”

“that's not a no.” i could feel his shit-eating grin.

“who’s naked?” nick wailed, halfway off the couch.

“nobody! chris just-”

“so you didn't get nudes,” madi asked tentatively, still sleepy. 

i turned back to chris. “are you gonna help me at all?”

“who, me?”

rolling my eyes, i addressed the living room again. “listen, chris just shortened the word noodle, THAT’S IT.”

"oh. why didn't you just say that?" nick snarked.

madi had already burrowed into him for another nap. nick let their show play on, detangling her hair absentmindedly. i shook my head and smiled.

-x-

“i'm gonna go ahead and put the noodles in,” chris said, already breaking them.

“thanks. you wanna make sauce or use the stuff in the pantry?”

“ugh, what's in the pantry,” he said, “don't feel like making anything that intense.”

“mkay.” i pulled the door open and began to hunt. the sounds of the house washed over me - RuPaul’s Drag Race from the living room, chris stirring in the cracking noodles, and matt typing away on his laptop. i smiled again. this house, these people, their lives - it put me at ease. 

“‘scuse me…” chris said from behind me. i jumped as he drew out his words and stretched his hand around my shoulders to pull a spice off the rack. he felt me startle, he must have, because chris looked down at me with curiosity. “i scare ya?”

“only a little bit,” i said, lying through my teeth. he put his arms around me and enclosed me in a hug. “i'm glad you're here.”

my hands took hold of the forearms crossing my chest and i leaned back into him. “thanks.”

i felt his lips against my neck, pulling into a smile. “i'm always happy when you're here.”

the sugar-sweetness made my teeth ache, and i leaned forward. He let go easily, just like he did everything else in life, and spiced the noodly water on the stove with gusto, letting dark flecks fall to the floor. 

i love you.

he looked a mess with his hair unbrushed and his brows unkempt and his smile unguarded.

i love you.

chris, who always handled my heart with care.

i love you.

how many ways could he tell me he loved me before i believed him?

here goes nothing.

“chris?”

or perhaps everything.

“yes ma'am.”

JESUS FUCKING-

my ribs cracked, splintering bone shards into my thundering heart. i reached for his chin, letting my fingers fall atop his skin and ever so slightly pulling him toward me. when his eyes met mine i couldn't wait any longer. “do you love me?”

chris didn't miss a beat. “of course i do.” he pressed his cheek into my hand, his head tilted adorably. 

“no i…i mean like. for real.”

“come here.” he pulled me into a hug and i pressed my nose against his chest. “i've never been…afraid of it. love. with you.”

well that's good.

“of course i love you,” he said.

“...that's cool.”

a pause.

“really cool, in fact,” i continued. fucking tears. ruining my moment.

“are you crying?”

“no.” 

“liar.”

“yeah.”

“sad crying?”

“happy.”

“that's good.”

“mhm.”

“you want me to let go?” his arms didn't budge from me.

“don't you dare.”

“yes ma'am.”

“you're burning the pasta,” matt huffed. we jumped apart, faces tomato red. 

“yeah yeah you're so cute, i'm gonna be ill, puke gag retch, whatever,” he said, turning off the heat and moving the bubbling pot. “i'm hungry.”

nick and madi sat agape on the couch.

chris kissed my forehead, still grinning like a maniac. “wanna eat?”

i smiled. what is this, an epidemic? “yeah.”

“we can talk about it later okay?”

i smiled. “okay.”

-x-

ps: the noodles were delicious.

request to be on the taglist here

thank you for reading!

- bambi <3

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 9

Only one more chapter to go and that's the happily ever after.

Lot of talking in this chapter. Steve and Eddie, Eddie and Chrissy, Steve and Chrissy, back to Eddie and Steve. But we get to the most brilliant idea Eddie has had since choosing to marry Steve.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

The drive back to the hotel wasn’t a long one, but it still felt like it had passed by in a single instant.

When he pulled into the parking lot he was surprised to see Steve leaning against one of the pillars to the covered valet parking, smoking a cigarette. His feet were crossed at the ankle and his free hand was holding tightly to the arm that held his cigarette. His head was down, but Eddie could his hair wasn’t styled and his clothes were rumpled.

He got out his rental in a hurry and tried not to run up to Steve so it was this weird loping walk/jog thing.

“Baby?” Eddie called, leaning his head down to try and look him in the eyes.

“Eddie?”

His already broken heart shattered into dust when Steve raised his head. His eyes were red and swollen, his face blotchy with tears, and his expression was shuttered.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he cooed, cupping Steve’s cheek. “What are you doing here?” If Eddie was the cause of another shop closing, he was going to start crying, right there in the parking lot, dignity be damned. “What about the bakery?”

“Robin is taking care of it,” he murmured, “she called in Claudia to help out, the shop’s fine.”

Eddie heart sank further. “But you aren’t. Why don’t we go up to my room and we’ll talk about it, okay?” When Steve didn’t say anything, Eddie backtracked. “Or we can go somewhere else if you prefer.”

Steve shook his head. “No, no. You’re hotel room is fine.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around him and led him to his room. He sat Steve down on the one armchair in the room and poured a glass of water. He got out two capsules of ibuprofen and handed both to Steve.

“Drink up, Stevie,” he gently implored. “Don’t want you getting a migraine because you’re dehydrated.”

Steve nodded and did as he was told. Once he was done, he handed the cup back to Eddie who set it on the table.

“I was making snickerdoodles and started crying and couldn’t stop,” Steve murmured. “I know I’ve been awful to you all week and I’m starting to feel like that stupid Einstein quote or whatever about being crazy.”

Eddie chuckled and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Crazy is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?”

Steve nodded and then leaned into Eddie’s touch. “I’ve missed you so much, Eds.”

Eddie knelt in front of him and kissed his forehead. Steve let out a shuddering breath as the sobs threatened to choke him.

“What did you do to me that I didn’t deserve, Stevie?” Eddie whispered. “I left you, kept running when I could have come home, demanded a divorce, came to town and shook up your life and was just going to blow out of it again, never to be seen again? After all that, what did you do to me that wasn’t in self-defense?”

Steve let out another shuddering breath. “Kevin is just a pool buddy. We aren’t dating. I haven’t dated since before you. I couldn’t. You’re everything to me and I don’t know what I did to make you hate me.”

Eddie frowned at the name before he realized it was the guy he saw flirting with Steve his first night in town.

“I don’t hate you, baby,” he murmured. “I never hated you. I was so scared that I would be stuck in this hick town my whole life. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to meet new people, but I never stopped loving you.”

“But Chrissy?” Steve asked, tears slipping down his cheeks. Eddie right there with him with his own tears.

“She needs a visa to stay in America,” Eddie said his voice shaking with each word he forced past his lips, “and if we don’t get married by a certain date, they’ll ship her off back to Barbados. She’s my Robin, Stevie. She’s my Robin.”

Steve’s eyes went wide as he gasped. There wasn’t anything in the world that he wouldn’t do for Robin, even a lavender marriage if that’s what it would take to keep her safe.

“Oh.”

Steve threw himself at Eddie and pulled him in for a big hug. “Oh, sunshine,” he breathed. “That’s horrible. Of course you need to marry her, to keep her safe. I’m sorry you’ve been carrying this around like a millstone around your neck.”

“I’m sorry, Stevie,” Eddie wailed. “I am so sorry.”

They slunk to the floor in a crumpled heap as they cried together.

Later they would get on the bed and just hold each other. But for now, they cried in each other’s arms and held on for dear life.

****

Eddie woke up for the first time in years feeling well rested and comfortable. His phone was also blasting “Hot Blooded Woman” as loud as possible.

He rolled over to grab his phone but was met with a warm body and face full of honey colored hair.

Eddie smiled and stretched over Steve to grab his phone.

“‘Ello?” he muttered, trying to keep his voice down.

“Eddie!” Chrissy shrieked. “I’ve been calling for the last ten minutes! Why didn’t you pick up?”

Eddie pulled his phone from his ear and stuck a finger in it to clear it out. “Chrissy, not so loud.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m freaking out that you weren’t answering your phone, Edward,” she huffed.

Eddie slid out of the bed and grabbed the room key on his way out of the hotel room. “I was sleeping, Christine. I’ve had a very emotionally wrought day and was exhausted.”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two before he got a very chastised, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry, Ed,” she murmured. “I was having my own freak out and completely forgot about yours. That was fucked up, I’m really, really sorry.”

Eddie sighed and leaned against the door. “It is what it is. Why were you calling?”

“Um...” she hedged. “It doesn’t sound so dire in weight of your shit, so...”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Now you’ve got to tell me.”

“So, um...” she hedged a little more, “I called the bakery to see if I could talk to Steve and see if we could work out custody of you or whatever, but he was busy.”

“Snickerdoodles.”

“Yes!” Chrissy hissed. “Wait! How did you know?”

“Steve came to the hotel to see me,” Eddie explained, “and told me he had been making snickerdoodles when it just came over him that he just had to see me.”

“Cute,” she said and Eddie could see her tilt her head to the side in his mind, something she’d picked up from him. “Anyway! I’ll talk more about that in a minute. I need to freak out.”

Eddie shook his head fondly. “Continue.”

“So this really cute sounding girl picked up and wouldn’t let me talk to him because apparently their giant stand mixer eats phones!” Chrissy explained.

“Let me guess, you’re freaking out about the cute sounding girl?” he murmured.

“Is–is she Steve’s girlfriend?” she asked shyly.

Eddie burst out laughing. He laughed so hard that Steve opened the door and looked down at him. “You okay there, Eds?”

He nodded, pursing his lips together. “Would please explain to Chrissy that Robin isn’t your girlfriend, please? Please?”

Steve rolled his eyes but took the phone from Eddie’s grasp.

“Hi, Chrissy?” he greeted.

“You must be Steve!” she chirped happily. “Nice to meet you at long last!”

“Likewise,” he said fondly. “Robin Buckley is my partner in a lot of things, but as a staunch lesbian, she isn’t anything but my platonic soulmate.”

He pulled the phone from his ear as she shrieked. Eddie looked up at him with the biggest grin and made grabby hands for his phone. Steve handed it back.

“Oh my god!” Chrissy cried. “If I wasn’t set to marry you, I propose in a heart beat!”

“I never took you for a U-haul lesbian,” he teased her.

Suddenly everyone stopped stock still.

“Oh shit,” Eddie said scrambling to his feet. “That’s it!”

“I’m calling Robin!” Steve cried, diving back into the hotel room.

“Get on a plane, darlin’,” Eddie told Chrissy. “I think we just solved all our problems.”

“Eddie...” Chrissy breathed. “Do you think this will work? What if she says no?”

“She won’t,” he reassured her. “And even if she doesn’t agree today, she will once she meets you face to face.”

“This is insane, Ed,” she muttered. “I don’t know.”

“Babe,” Eddie breathed. “Jeff is already out here for his parents’ wedding anniversary. Brian lives in Indy, and I bet I could convince Gare to be on a flight faster than you can book your own flight. You’ve already told the immigration lady that you were coming down here to the wedding anyway.”

She sighed and took a deep breath. “Okay, but now I’m freaking out for a different reason.”

Eddie laughed. “Because now you’ve got meet the pretty girl on the phone?”

“And is she?” Chrissy asked. “Is she pretty?”

Eddie went searching through his phone for the pictures he took during his week here and found a good one of Robin and Steve at the bar. He sent it to her.

“Stevie is hottie on the right,” he told her, “and Robin is cutie on the left.”

There was silence on the line for a few moments before Chrissy breathed. “Right, two things. One, I think you’re an even bigger asshole for leaving that behind, by the way.”

Eddie bobbed his head side to side. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“And two holy fuck,” she hissed. “I would go down on my knees begging her to marry me even if my immigration status wasn’t the fucking sword of Damocles hanging over my head, right now.”

“Someone packing her bags yet?” he teased her.

“Look, babe,” Chrissy said seriously. “I was already packing my bags to meet your scaly white ass out there in Bumfuck, Indiana, it’s just going to be a more enjoyable experience is all.”

“See you soon, Chris.”

“I’ll message you my flight details as soon as I get them.”

“Right-o,” he said and hung up.

The door to the hotel room opened up again and Steve leaned against the doorframe.

“Robin thinks it’s a great idea,” he said softly. “One of her schools was already out there in Washington, so this makes the choice easier. Plus, this means she won’t be alone in the city like she thought she would be.”

Eddie got to his feet and put his arms around Steve’s waist. “This only clears up seventy percent of the problem.”

Steve frowned and tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Eddie cupped his jaw tenderly. “I still have a life out in Seattle. I want to be here with you, but there is so much to do before that could happen.”

Steve draped his arms around Eddie’s neck loosely. “I know that, Eds. I wasn’t expecting a miracle cure. So the only thing I need to hear from you is that no matter how far apart we are, that you’ll still love me.”

Eddie pulled him in for a hug and they stood there, half in the hotel room and half in the hall, just taking comfort in each other.

“I promise you this, Stevie,” he whispered in his ear, “that I will move heaven and earth to find my back to you. Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Steve shook his head. “No, I think we both needed to grow up before we could properly be together.”

Eddie let out a contented sigh. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Steve pulled him back inside the hotel room and Eddie closed the door behind him.

****

Part 10

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