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lightsoutletsgo · 9 months ago

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the one where ollie lives alone (cl.16 x bearman!reader)

pairing: mainly ollie bearman x oldersister!reader for this part but there's a plenty of charles leclerc x bearman!reader here and there!

word count: 4.2k

warnings: a whole lot of stupidity mentions of death, seemingly angsty in some parts (you'll see what I mean) this might be one of my favourite parts I've written for any series ever 😭 it's so dumb but so funny (according to the people who proofread for me!) as always let me know what you think! your comments are always appreciated. happy reading! mimi 🤍

taglist: @arieslost @iamapersonwholikesunicorns

“Jesus Y/N, what the hell is in here?” Ollie wheezed as he staggered past you, arms straining under the weight of the box he was carrying. You rolled your eyes, “You’re so dramatic Ols, it’s literally just makeup.”

“Is that the last box ma belle?” You turned and saw Charles in the doorway, staring at you fondly. “Mhmm! Everything else is in the van.” You held your arms out to him and he crossed the room, pulling you in by your waist and kissing you softly, “I can’t believe you’re finally coming home with me…” You smiled, looping your arms round his neck, “Me either,” He booped your nose with his own, a loud cough making the two of you jump apart as Ollie leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised, “Are you two done being gross?” “Shut up dummy.” You punched his arm as you walked past him towards the front door. You inhaled deeply, it felt strange but exciting to be moving out and into Charles’ apartment.

Behind you, Charles watched Ollie stare at you, looking like he wanted to say something. He quietly padded up behind the younger driver and nudged his arm, “Are you going to miss her?” Ollie was startled but quickly scoffed, “Hmm? No way!” Charles gave him a pointed look, “I get the whole place to myself! I can’t wait!” Charles gave him a smile and punched his arm gently, “We’re only ten minutes away if you need us.” Ollie laughed, “Thanks but I can manage!”

♯ incident 1 - the dishwasher ⊹.�� As it turned out, Ollie could in fact, not manage. Mere hours after you’d left him, you found yourself sprinting back up the stairs, cursing the old apartment building for still not having an elevator. You reached the floor of your old apartment and checked the door to see if it was open, turning the handle and entering you called out, “Ollie? I got your text!” You poked your head into each room as you went, searching for him, “What’s the emer…gen…cy…” You trailed off as you reached the kitchen, Ollie staring up at you with wide eyes, crouching next to the dishwasher that was… pouring out soapy bubbles? “Ollie!” “I think I made a mistake.” He said dryly, suspiciously poking some of the bubbly foam next to his shoulder, “Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” You said sarcastically, thinking of a solution, “You put dish soap in didn’t you?” He nodded sheepishly, “There were no dishwasher tablets left so I just… thought on my feet?” You facepalmed and sighed, “Okay well, we need to- DON’T OPEN IT!”

You looked on in horror as Ollie pulled open the door and a torrent of soapy warm foam spilled out and all over the kitchen floor, creeping further into the centre of the room, was it… growing? You looked over at your brother to see him staring back at you with comically wide eyes. “So that’s why we don’t do that.” You said, face deadpan. Ollie giggled nervously, “Oops?” A snort from behind you had you turning round to see Charles filming the whole thing, “Oh some help you are babe.” Charles coughed to cover up his laughter as he put his phone away and entered the foamy bubbly monstrosity that was now the kitchen. “Somewhere under here there’s a bucket and mop.” “Ollie?” “Yeah?” “You’re going in.”

♯ incident 2 - french toast ⊹.∿ A few days had passed since the dishwasher incident and you dozed in Charles’ arms, enjoying the lazy Sunday morning sun slipping through the bedroom curtains. The previous night’s activities had left you a little worn out and with no plans for the day, you had wordlessly agreed that a cosy day in bed was just what you needed. A shrill sound pierced the air and jolted both you and Charles awake. You scrambled to find your phone, as Charles groaned, hands rubbing his face as your hand came up to feel how quickly your heart was pounding. You glanced at the screen as your hand met your phone and you scowled, Charles rubbing your back and doing his best not to laugh as he saw who was calling you, “Ollie Bearman, you better have a damn good reason for calling me this early on a Sunday morning.” There was a pause, “It’s eleven o’clock?-” “That’s not the point!” You sighed, “What do you need?” “Well, you see… I have a question.” “Go ahead,” “So I was making french toast right? And I followed the recipe exactly as you wrote it out! Right amount of eggs, milk and sugar.” “So what’s the issue?” Ollie sighed, “It won’t cook but it smells a bit smokey…” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Then turn it down?” “I don’t know how!” “Turn the hob dial down dummy!” Ollie went silent for a second, “Did you say hob dial?” Alarm bells started ringing in your head, “Why would I adjust the hob when I’m using the toaster.” You froze for a moment before pulling your phone away from your ear and putting it on speaker, unable to believe what you were hearing, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Charles gave you a concerned look, sitting even closer to you and wrapping one arm around you while the other rubbed your knee comfortingly

“I said, I’m using the toaster.” You stared at your phone, mouth slightly agape, “You’re making french toast in the toaster?” “Correct.” Charles snorted and choked back a huge guffaw of laughter as the hand he’d placed on your knee came up to cover his mouth, his face turning pink with how hard he was laughing, “Ollie! French toast isn’t made in the toaster!” “It’s called french toast!” You pressed the video button and changed the call to facetime. Your brother stared back at you, looking rather dishevelled, “That’s a rather deceiving name if you ask me!” You groaned, facepalming, “You make it in a frying pan” Charles was no help next to you as he wheezed silently, grabbing his own phone to record the conversation for later use and hilarity. “Well how was I supposed to know that?!” Ollie was indignant as he pleaded with you through the screen, “OLLIE! You’ve watched me make it hundreds of times!” He pouted through the screen letting out a little ‘hmmph’ “Well if you hadn’t abandoned me, we wouldn’t have this issue would we!” You rolled your eyes, “For the last time, I did not abandon you! I live a 10 minute walk away!”

You sighed before laughing at your brother lovingly, “Alright then silly, head over for lunch and I’ll show you how to make french toast the proper way.” Charles snorted once more and you both burst into giggles as your brother scowled at you, “Stop laughing at me!” Ollie whined, you caught your breath and wiped your eyes, heart warm at the silly moment you knew would turn into a fond memory, “Uhhhh Y/N?” You looked back at the screen to where Ollie was turning the camera round to show you a sparking, smoking toaster, “I don’t think it should be doing that…” You cursed as Charles scrambled out of bed, pulling mismatching socks on as you grabbed a hoodie, “Change of plans Ols, we’re on our way!”

♯ incident 3 - Gerald ⊹.∿ Things were peaceful for a couple of days after the french toast debacle - something you were more than thankful for, wrapped up in your perfect little bubble with Charles. Of course you continued to text Ollie, but there had been no major crisis that required your immediate attention. Until there was.

It had been one of those long lazy days spent at home, until Charles had announced he was taking you to dinner and told you to get all dressed up. You’d slipped on one of his favourite numbers and he’d shown his appreciation more than once, sliding his hands round your hips and squeezing while you waited to be seated, pulling your chair out for you to sit down and sliding his hands down your arms once you were seated, moving his chair round the table to sit closer to you so he could place a slow smooch against your neck. You hummed happily as he fed you a mouthful of his dish, “I knew you’d like it!” You smiled at him, “I like most things you suggest…” He bit his lip as his eyes darkened slightly, “Is that so?” You nodded, eyelashes fluttering as your lids close, “What if I suggested something a little… more intimate?” You giggled, picking up your wine glass to take a sip and hide your face, too shy to keep the eye contact, “I wouldn’t mi-” Your phone blaring cut you off and you gasped, rushing to put your glass down as other customers in the restaurant glared at you, Charles chuckling quietly next to you, his hand resting on your thigh and rubbing soothingly.

“Ollie I swear to go-” “He’s dead.” You heard your little brother sniffle and adrenaline kicked in, “Ollie, who’s dead?” You kept your voice as calm and quiet as possible, you heard him sniffle once more before a sob left his mouth. That was all you needed to hear before you were grabbing your clutch and nodding towards the door. Charles tilted his head and you mouthed your brother’s name. He nodded understandingly and rushed to pay the bill before you were both scurrying back to his car. As soon as you were buckled in you put your phone on speaker, “Ollie… Honey… what happened?” Charles also looked panicked as he heard Ollie’s choked sob, “He was fine and then he just… wasn’t.” “Who Ollie, who’s not fine?” You pleaded, “Ge-” You cursed as the call cut out, “It’s okay ma belle, his phone probably just died, we’re almost there okay?” You nodded, hands nervously twisting and wringing together in your lap. Charles eyes darted to your hands for a second before looking back at the road, one hand leaving the steering wheel to gently hold your hand in his. You looked at him and squeezed, a wordless thank you.

As soon as Charles pulled up, you were racing out of the car, slipping your heels off and carrying them in your hand as you sprinted barefoot up the stairs of the apartment building. You reached the door and rang the bell, knocked, called his name, anything you could think of to attract his attention. The door opened slowly and it wasn’t Ollie that appeared but Arthuer Leclerc, looking ever so sombre, “Arthur?” Your eyes were panicked as you looked him over for any injuries or obvious isses. He simply held his hand out to indicate to you to enter and you slowly stepped through the door, “Where’s Ollie?” Arthur nodded, head down towards the ground and the panic rose in your chest again, “He’s in the living room, saying his goodbyes.” “Goodbyes to who?” You paced down the hallway and burst into the living room, your jaw dropping at the sight you saw.

Ollie stood in front of the coffee table that was lit with candles, dressed in a suit and your brain suddenly registered that Arthur had been dressed the same way. You were even more concerned when you saw Arthur’s girlfriend fully dressed in black, standing next to Ollie with a comforting hand on his shoulder. You approached him slowly, arms opening and your expression softening as he turned to you with a red splotchy nose and red-rimmed eyes, he fell into your arms and you patted his back, gently shushing him, “What happened, Ols?” “He’s gone.” Ollie croaked out, “Who’s gone honey?” Your voice was gentle as you stroked his hair, the same way you did when he was younger and couldn’t sleep, “Gerald.” “Oh.” You said softly, “Was he a friend?” Ollie nodded and you held back a wince as he rubbed his snotty nose onto your shoulder, knowing he needed you, “He was such a good friend.” You led him over to the couch and sat down, his head falling onto your shoulder as you continued to play with his hair.

You were aware of Charles appearing in the doorway and you gave him a brief smile, before turning your attention back to Ollie, “Would I know this friend?” Ollie nodded, his sobs quieting to sniffles, “You were his friend before I was.” Your stomach dropped as you frantically thought of who Ollie could possibly be referring to, feeling guilty that your mind was blank, “The funeral was lovely.” Arthur’s girlfriend nodded solemnly, a hand over her heart as the other hand came up to dab her eyes with a tissue, “The funeral has already happened?” You were confused as Arthur nodded, “Just before you got here.” Your eyes shot to Charles who was just as concerned and confused as you, “Wait, the funeral was here?” Ollie scoffed, “Well where else would it have been?” “Wait Ollie,” You held his face in front of yours, “Why was the funeral in your apartment?” “He wanted to be remembered in the place he was most happy…” Ollie sighed wistfully, his head turning to look at the coffee table once more.

You squinted, focusing on a shape amidst the flickering candles and once more your mouth gaped as you stood up and stormed over to the other side of the room. “Ollie. Bearman.” You gritted your teeth, “Don’t tell me that this was all about a fucking cactus?” “Succulent!” Ollie snapped at you, wiping away a tear from under his eye, “He was a succulent,” He whispered as he looked down at the floor. Charles broke first, snorting in the doorway and you watched as he did his best to choke down his laughter, coughing and shaking his head, you watched as he excused himself from the room for a moment to force a solemn expression back onto his face. He returned but you could see the laughter threatening to bubble over as he took in the sight before him. Ollie, his younger brother and his younger brother’s girlfriend all dressed in black and in mourning for a succulent that sat sadly on the coffee table and looked like it had been watered a little too much.

“I’m glad you got here,” Arthur spoke up suddenly, “Oh goodie, do tell me why.” Your tone was sarcastic. “We’re about to do the funeral exit.” Charles was holding in his laughter so much that he now had tears streaming down his face and Arthur patted his back with a ‘there, there’ and handed him a tissue. “Arthur’s girlfriend has agreed to sing the exit song and we’re so thankful she has.” “Who is we Ollie?” You brow furrowed as you looked around the living room, “I-I…” You sighed. “Go ahead.” You all stood still, heads to the floor as Arthur’s girlfriend launched into a rendition of ‘Memory’ from Cats, “Miiiiiiidniiiiiight, not a sound from the paaaaavemeeeent.” Charles quietly crossed the room to stand next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder, “Interesting date night hmm?” You growled, “Don’t you dare encourage him.” Ollie approached you, “Do you want to say your final goodbyes?” “Ollie, why would I care about a succulent?” He gasped, “It’s Gerald!” “Yes Ollie so you said, but why would I care that it’s name is Gerald?” Ollie shook his head, “Don’t even recognise your own friend…” Arthur tutted and even his girlfriend gave you a disapproving look as she continued wailing in the background, you mentally made a note to apologise to the neighbours the next time you were here during normal sociable hours.

You rolled your eyes at your younger brother and stepped forward to ‘pay your respects’ to the succulent. Your eyes narrowed, “Oliver. James. Bearman. That’s MY fucking succulent!” “It was nice of you to wear black.” He continued, nodding towards your dress and Charles blazer and pants, ignoring your exclamation. “We were on a date!” You screeched, Charles once again powerless to help in any way, instead just collapsing with laughter. You growled as you lunged for your brother, “Ollie, I swear there will be a funeral tonight.” You hissed, “Yours!”

♯ incident 4 - spiderman ⊹.∿ After everyone had said their goodbyes to Gerald, he had been unceremoniously dumped into the rubbish bin and that had been the end of it. Ollie had promised to buy you a new succulent and had learned that they did not, in fact, require watering every day, and you now forever had ‘Memory’ stuck in your head. Once more, peace had been restored but you doubted it would last much longer.

Your theory was proved correct when a few days later, your phone rang. An unknown number. You ignored it at first, all too aware of strange reporters and crazy fans who would do anything to get closer to Charles. You simply went back to reading your book, until your phone rang again. It was an unknown number still and you grumbled, rolling your eyes and answering quite snappily, “Yes? Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line seemed almost taken aback, “Umm excuse me is this Y/N Bearman?” You sighed, “Yes it is, no I won’t give you a quote and yes Charles is great in bed, goodbye!-” “No wait please! I’m from downstairs! You live in 10B yes?” You stopped as your finger hovered over the end call button and brought the phone back up to your ear, “Uhhhh I used to, yes, can I ask why?” “Oh, well there’s a man trying to climb onto your balcony and I was concerned that’s all.” Your stomach flipped, your mind rushing to thoughts of someone breaking in when your little brother was home alone, “I’ll come over now! My younger brother still lives there.” You raced to grab your keys and jumped into your car, deciding to get there as soon as possible rather than walk. Who was stupid enough to break in in broad daylight? You briefly considered calling the police but you were sure the idiot would be gone by the time you got there. Your car pulled up and you craned your neck to look up at the balcony of your old apartment. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted that there was indeed a man hanging off of your balcony, “Holy shit,” You mumbled, scrabbling to open the door and race towards the apartment complex. The closer you got you squinted as you realised the hoodie looked ever so familiar. “Ollie?!” You yelled up and shrieked as your brother looked down at you, giggling nervously as his feet kicked back and forth as he desperately searched for a footing, “What the fuck are you doing?” “Uhhh I can explain!” He yelled back to you, “H-hold on, I’m on my way up!” You hurried up the stairs, once more cursing the lack of elevator as you finally reached your floor, unlocking the door and rushing through the apartment to french doors out onto the balcony.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” You screeched, leaning over the balcony and diving to grab him and pull him up, “Ollie that’s so fucking dangerous!” “Look!” You heard a kid shout from the street below, “It’s Spiderman!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "He wishes!" You paused for a moment to yell back, before resuming hauling your brother over the apartment balcony. “How did you even get up here? Why are you up here?” Ollie chuckled, panting slightly as he finally threw one leg over the ledge, “Funny story actually…” You raised an eyebrow, “Well please share,” “I forgot my key…” “I-” In your shock you almost let go of him and his scream attracted the attention of yet more passers by below, laughing and pointing at the odd sight they were witnessing. You smiled down awkwardly before turning back to Ollie once more, “Why didn’t you call me?” Ollie whined as you began to tell him off, “Because I didn’t want you to find out…” “Oh so this was a better idea- Ah!” You squeaked as Ollie tumbled over the ledge and onto the balcony. Landing on your stomach in a tangle of limbs, “Your foot is up my butt!” “Yeah well it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been being stupid! Anyway, get your elbow out of my eye!” “Oh I’m sorry, I was making sure I wasn’t about to fall to my death!” You shoved Ollie off of you and led there on your back, panting, Ollie much the same,

“For the record, you are the shittiest spiderman there is.” “Thanks, that’s really boosting my confidence.” “Glad I could help.”

♯ the resolution ⊹.∿ “We need more protection.” You announced loudly, stepping into the kitchen “Excuse me?!” Charles choked on his protein shake, cheeks turning pink and you heard Max snort on the phone, “God, no! You pervs… I meant like, we need protection from Ollie and his dumbass incidents.” Max cackled, “Charles has sent me the videos, I was dying at the dishwasher incident.” You groaned, crossing the room to stand next to Charles who sat at the breakfast bar. He grinned as you rolled your eyes at Max who you could now see was on facetime. “Yeah, well I’m turning grey way sooner than I should!” You joked. You chatted with Max a little longer before Charles signed off with the promise of joining him to game later.

You sighed, leaning against Charles’ side, “What’s wrong ma belle?” You took another breath and paused, “I’m just… worried about Ollie…” Charles put his arm around you and rubbed your back soothingly, “What has you so worried mon amour?” His expression was warm and you knew he wasn’t angry with you, rather genuinely curious, “I just feel like… maybe he isn’t ready to live on his own yet?” Charles nodded at you and you took that as a signal to continue, “I mean, he’s always had me there to help him and I know someday he’s gonna have to get used to me not being there but I just feel like right now…” You trailed off with a sigh, “He still needs you.” Charles finished and you gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “But, I don’t wanna leave you. I love living with you and having you around and I love just... living life with you. Am I selfish for not wanting to give that up?” You bit your lip, moving away from Charles to pace the kitchen floor. Charles shook his head with a fond smile,

“Ma belle… You’re not selfish for wanting to do something for yourself and I’m proud of you for wanting to pursue that, especially since it’s me you want,” he slid his arms around you as you stepped next to him and dragged you backwards to him, making you giggle, “but I also know that you want to be there for family and I can understand that, you guys are close, the same way that me and Thur are, probably even closer.” You hummed, leaning back against him, “Thank you for being so understanding.” You sighed, “Now I just need to work out how to fix it…” Charles smiled and turned you round in his arms, nudging your nose with his, “Well… we have a spare room?”

Which is how you found yourself hauling boxes upstairs a week later, “Jesus Ollie, what the hell is in here?” You wheezed out and Ollie simply smiled at you, patting you on the head as he walked past you, arms empty, “You’re so dramatic Y/N, it’s literally just a few bits.” You poked your tongue out at him as he mimicked your words from just a couple of months ago. “Is that it mate?” Charles head appeared from behind the apartment door and Ollie nodded, as you finally conquered the stairs and planted the box down on the hallway floor. “Now let’s go over the rules one more time Ols.” He sighed, “Fine…” “Rule one?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “No dish soap in the dishwasher…” He grumbled, Charles chuckled, “Rule two?” “No cooking without supervision.” Ollie recited as you nodded, “Don’t worry, that rule applies to Charles too.” “Huh?!” “Shush baby, rule three?” You turned back to Ollie, “No watering the succulents unless instructed, no matter how sorry I feel for them.” You nodded, “I am not having a repeat of Gerald and the… funeral.” You shuddered, as Charles snorted before asking, “Rule four?” “Always call one of you two if I forget my keys…” “And?” You raised an eyebrow, “No climbing balconies under any circumstances.” You clapped your hands together and smiled, “Good! Well I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

You turned to Charles who shook his head and Ollie who just shrugged, “In that case, let’s go! Pizza for dinner sound good?” The three of you walked into the apartment and the door to the hallway swung shut, your arguments about pizza toppings muffled through the door, but the happiness and love you felt for each other not dulled in the slightest.

#mimi.writes #bear hugs series ˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚#f1 fic #f1 series #f1 fluff #f1 crack #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic

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lyjen · 2 months ago

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Trust me | Evan “Buck” Buckley

Summary: When Buck and (Y/n) go to Bobby to tell him the news that (Y/n) is pregnant, they get interrupted by the sound of the alarm. Everything seems to run smoothly on the call, until the bridge collapses with (Y/n), Eddie and a victim in the back of the ambulance. Putting (Y/n)’s pregnancy at risk.

A request by: @shauna-carsley

Feel free to send in request in my “Ask me a question 👀” section! 🫶🏽

9-1-1 Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“Okay, so we’re telling Bobby today, right? Before shift?” Buck asks as he places his foot onto the brake pedal of the car, to stop in front of the light that had just switched from green to red.

“Oh my god” she said, which sounded more like a scoff. The back of her left hand bumped into Buck’s chest as he looked over at his girlfriend, with her eyes totally focussed on the screen of her phone. She clearly didn’t hear the question he just asked her.

“Did you know this? It says and I quote..” she said, as her flat hand morphed into a “wait a second” gesture. Only her index finger was now in the air. “Your breasts can grow up to three cup sizes while pregnant. Breast growth in the first trimester is due to higher levels of the hormones estrogen and progesterone.” she quotes the article that she has been reading since the second they had gotten into the car.

A small chuckle left his lips, as he listened to her reading the small part of the article. Since they found out that (Y/n) was pregnant a few days ago, she had been obsessed with reading all these articles. She wanted to know what was going to happen to her, her hormones and of course her body.

One of the “funnier” things is, (Y/n) is a paramedic, and has helped countless times delivering babies in the field. But now that it’s her who’s pregnant, she actually is scared of the finish line. Even though she’s now eight weeks pregnant, and she’s not even there yet. It’s one of the things that keeps running through her mind.

“Why can’t they just remain this size” she sighs as she retrieves her left hand to herself again and keeps on reading the article. “Honey, did you hear what I asked?” Buck asks her. But then again, he doesn’t receive an answer.

“Your feet can grow bigger. Well I knew that already, Sherlock Holmes..” she mumbled as her finger kept on tracing over the screen. “Okay..” Buck sighed as he looked to his right, and placed his hand on (Y/n)’s phone that was in between her hands.

Buck yanks the phone from her hands, “Hey! I was using that.” (Y/n) says as she tries to grab the phone from his hand. But he places the phone in the compartment of the car door.

“You’ve been glued to that article ever since we got in the car.” he says as he let the weight on the brake become less and switches the brake for the gas pedal as the traffic light goes to green again.

“Well, I’m sorry? Is it wrong to know what’s going to happen to my body and my emotions in the next few weeks?” she asks him as she watches him turn the steering wheel to the left, but his eyes remain on the road. “Of course not, and I will give you your phone back. But we need to make a plan.” he calmly tells her as the drive to the firehouse gets shorter and shorter.

“Okay, go ahead.” she says as she looks at the road in front of her. A small chuckle leaves his mouth. As if he didn’t just ask her a few moments ago. “We enter the firehouse, go get changed and then we’ll talk to Bobby.” Buck explains as he made some motions with his right hand, while his left hand was still on the steering wheel.

“Fine with me, can I have my phone back now?” (Y/n) said as she waited for Buck to place her phone back into her hand. He glanced to his right as he saw her hand, and her eyes were burning into his skin. He grabbed her hand as he pushed it down to her lap. “No, we’re not done yet.” he said as he took another turn.

He gets why she was so into reading all of those articles, but from time to time it’d get boring or tiring, right? Buck himself was also reading more and more stories from other people becoming dads. He was so excited to be a dad. Ever since (Y/n) had told him about her being pregnant, he practically couldn’t think about anything else.

“What else do you want to discuss?” she said, maybe a little bit annoyed. But Buck ignores it, he knows it is probably the hormones talking. “Do we only want to tell Bobby? Or are we telling the team too?” he asks then.

A sigh leaves her mouth as she searches her brain for an answer for that question. “Uhmm..” she mumbled as she shook her head, she didn’t exactly know the answer to that one. “See, I really want to tell Eddie.. but, I feel like if we tell him we need to tell the rest of the team too.” Buck explains his opinion on it.

“I don’t know.. I’m only eight weeks now. I’m scared that if I share this news now, I’ll jinx it and things will go wrong.” she said as she ran a hand through her hair and let her head fall back against the headrest of the carseat.

Of course they wanted to tell Eddie, he was her brother and he was the best friend of Buck. Eddie felt more like a brother to Buck and it was the same the other way around. They didn’t have secrets, and it felt illegal to walk around with news like this.

But it wasn’t fair if they told Eddie and left the others out, they were family too, blood related or not. Not that Bobby wasn’t family, he was like a father Buck never had. But they needed to inform him about her health, she couldn’t now just run into burning buildings and carry heavy equipment. Since she already is a paramedic, she doesn’t run into burning buildings and doesn’t carry heavy equipment a lot.

“Hey.. I’m sure that if we do decide to tell them and something does go wrong, they’ll be there for us. Most importantly for you.” He says as he gives her a quick glance and places his hand on her thigh.

“You’re right..” she said as she glanced to her left, looking at Buck who was now driving in the parking lot of the firehouse. ”But I don’t want to tell them today, I want it to be a special moment. You know? Like the way I told you.” she explained, with her eyes still locked onto Buck.

The car pulls to a stop as Buck parks the car in the parking lot. “It’s not just something you pick out at the grocery store.” she said, as Buck took a deep breath in and looked at (Y/n). Their eyes connected once more, as (Y/n) leaned the side of her head against the headrest.

“I know it means a lot to you..” he said with a small smile on his face as he gave her leg a slight squeeze, and continued to rub his thumb over her thigh.

Buck turned the key inside the lock, making the front door of their apartment jump open. He steps inside the room while holding the paper straps of the bag full with groceries in his right hand, as he closes the door behind him with his left hand with the keys in the palm of his hand.

He steps closer to the dining table as his eyes fall onto (Y/n), sitting at the table with a glass of water and ice cubes. She was leaning her head onto her right hand, as her elbow was leaning onto the dining table.

“Hey, I thought you were asleep.” Buck says as he places the bag onto the table as well as the car keys. For a small second she closed her eyes and shook her head, “I couldn’t sleep after you left.” she said followed by a small sigh.

She had been feeling nauseous for days, which felt like forever. It was almost like there wasn't an end to all of this. How could she be this sick? “Do you think I can grow abs from the amount of how often I throw up?” she asks him as she lets her hand she was leaning on, rub over her face.

A small chuckle left Buck’s mouth as he heard that question. “Would it make you feel better if I said yes?” he smiled as he looked at her oh so tired face. “You know what? I would.” she said as she looked back at him, making eye contact.

Buck couldn’t help but form a small smile on his face. “Okay, I got some ginger, bananas and some white rice.” he said as soon as he started to unpack the groceries from the paper bag he was just holding a few seconds ago. “If google is right, this might help against nausea.” he explained then, as soon as he received a confused look from (Y/n).

She didn’t ask for those groceries, but after his short explanation she got it. He had done some research. It was cute, he was trying to take care of her. Even though she was a paramedic, she knew what kind of medicine worked against nausea, but she couldn’t just steal a bag of saline and an IV kit.

But then Buck’s eyes fall on the small box, placed next to her glass of water on the dining table. “What’s that?” he asked curiously. She followed his eyes, and pushed the small box towards him as he stepped closer.

“A little surprise for you.” She said as her hands became warmer with the second and the butterflies in her stomach started to duplicate themselves with every heartbeat in her body. Buck grabs the small box from the dining table, but before he opens the box he gets that thinking look on his face.

“What did I forget?” he asked himself. “Wait.. it isn’t my birthday.. did I forget our anniversary?” he continued as he talked to himself for a second. Another small smile morphed onto (Y/n)’s face as she watched him freak out. He was so scared he missed another special day. “No.. that’s not until two months.” She laughed nervously.

Typically Buck, he could forget so many things sometimes. It’s like talking to dory, with short-term memory.

“Then.. what is this for?” he asked hesitatingly as he held the box in his hands. It was starting to feel like some kind of prank she was pulling or he was making it an interrogation. “Just.. something, what made me think of you..” she stumbled on the first words. What was she supposed to say?

“Just open it, Buck.” she continued as he started to shake the box in his hand. Making her even more nervous now. He grabbed the lid of the small box and carefully took it off. His eyes scanned the small box that was in his hand. His eyebrows furrowed at the look of it.

Until he realized what was in it.

“No.. you’re kidding” he said as soon as he saw that it was a pregnancy test.

She didn't say a word as soon as he grabbed the test from the box and looked down at the small screen that had visualized the weeks on it. “You’re kidding right?” he asked her in disbelief with a little nervous laugh.

She pressed her lips into a thin line as she tried to fight the tears, which were fighting their way through the barrier. “I’m not kidding Buck” she says, as a bright smile was taking over her entire face. She stood up from her chair and walked towards Buck. He was still starstruck, looking at the test in the box.

(Y/n) pressed her body to his side, as she smiled up to him. “You’re pregnant” he smiled down at her. She couldn’t seem to wipe the huge ass smile off her face. Buck placed his free hand onto her cheek as he let his thumb trace over her cheek.

“I just had this feeling..” she said, but before she could finish her sentence, his warm lips were pressed against hers. She could feel the butterflies inside of her body get more restless as she felt his lips. Her hand was pressed against his chest as she tried to steady herself by the amount of excitement he put into that kiss.

Their lips part, as he placed his forehead against hers. “I love you..” she sighed as she closed her eyes for a second and just be in the moment.

Buck pulled back his head as he took another look at the test. “When did you..?” he asked then, as he switched between the test and back at (Y/n). “I took the test yesterday.” she answered his question. But exactly when he realized she said “yesterday” the look on his face morphed into a confused one.

“You took this while we were on shift?” He continued his interrogation. She chuckled at his look and the confusion in his face. “Where else? We were on a twenty four hour shift.” she laughed.

Buck couldn’t help but keep on smiling since the second they entered the firehouse. Buck closed his locker as he placed his boot on one of the small red benches in the locker room, tying his shoelaces. (Y/n) put on her shirt and closed the buttons of her shirt as she looked in the small mirror she had put in her locker.

Her cheeks were rosy, and there was a small spot of acne on her forehead breaking through her skin. A small sigh left her mouth as she rubbed her hand over her cheek, as if she was trying to see if it was real or not, to check if it might go away if she put some pressure on it.

But without any success. Hormones were changing her body, she had to accept that. But she hoped no one would get the wrong impression if they saw those rosy cheeks.

“You alright?” Buck asked, with a small feeling of worry in his body. She quickly glanced at him and gave him a small nod as she closed the locker. “Just a bit nervous.. or maybe excited. I don’t know..” she stumbled. She bent over to grab all of her long hair and started to make a ponytail.

“It’s going to be fine.” Buck said as she straightened her back again. (Y/n) pulls her shirt correctly again as she looks at Buck again. “I know” she whispered as Buck came closer again and grabbed her fingers.

He didn’t even need to ask her if she was ready, he just motioned with his head to the left “Come on” he said softly as he turned around and kept her fingers on the inside of his palm. But he slowly loosened his grip on her hand, and before they reached the locker room door, he had let go of her fingers.

Buck and (Y/n) were never the couple to be that close on shift, of course they’d steal a small kiss from each other when no one was looking, even if it was on scene between or behind the trucks, or when they were in the hall behind the locker room. Everyone knew that the two of them were in a relationship, and they were okay with it.

As long as they kept work and personal life separate.

(Y/n) followed Buck up the stairs to the loft, to find Bobby in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Buck waited for his girlfriend to step on the loft so they could talk to Bobby together.

“Morning cap” Buck said as he quickly wiped his sweaty hands onto his trousers. “Hey, good morning Buck, (Y/n).” he answered. When he reached the right amount of coffee in his cup he placed the coffee pot back where it belonged. “What can I do for you?” Bobby then asked, as he grabbed the cup of coffee and leaned with his free hand onto the kitchen counter.

“We were wondering if we could talk to you.” (Y/n) said, making Bobby frown at the question. Isn’t that what they were doing right now? Talking to Bobby? (Y/n) could feel the jitters inside her stomach, she was nervous to tell the news that she forgot the rest of her sentence.

“In private” Buck then quickly added, when he switched looks between (Y/n) and then back to Bobby. The captain’s eyebrows were still frowned, he knew they were hiding something.

In the meantime, Eddie was standing downstairs, cleaning the rig with the bright yellow rag in his hands. But as soon as he watched his sister and his best friend walking up to Bobby, he stopped cleaning and walked a little closer to get a better look of them.

Eddie rubbed some small spots on his hands off with the rag he used to clean the rig with, as he kept Buck, (Y/n) and Bobby in his vision. “Hm, what do you think that’s about?” a female voice asked behind Eddie.

He quickly glanced to his right as Hen took place to his right and not shortly after, Chimney followed, standing next to his left side. Eddie looked down to the rag he was using to clean his hands with, and placed it over his shoulder. He shook his head as he folded his arms over each other. “I don’t know.” he just said.

“You haven’t talked to your sister yet?” Hen continued to ask. Looking at Eddie, trying to get a reaction out of him. But the only thing Eddie did was shake his head. “I mean..” he stumbled as he looked to the loft. “I noticed something about her that is different. But I just can’t seem to put my finger on it.” he explained to the two paramedics next to him then.

“Maybe.. she can’t work with Buck and you and is asking for a transfer?” Chimney said with his eyes locked on the three. Eddie’s eyebrows frowned as he glanced at Chimney. “No.. It can’t be.. right?” Eddie stumbled as he looked at Hen.

Hen’s hands went up, saying that she didn’t want to be a part of this guessing competition. “Don’t look at me, I have no clue.” Hen said then.

Normally Eddie could trust his gut, but at this moment he had no clue if this was bad or good. If something was wrong, he’d be sure his sister or best friend would come to him. But people do keep secrets. “Whatever it is.. it has to be something serious.” Eddie concluded.

”If only one of them went to Bobby it would be normal, but the two of them going to cap? That sounds like a problem to me.” Chimney said, followed by a small “ouch”. Eddie guessed Hen gave him a tick.

Just when Bobby, Buck and (Y/n) wanted to move towards the stairs to go to Bobby’s office, their conversation got cut off by the sound of the bell.

“Looks like our conversation will have to wait” Bobby said and gave Buck a pat on his shoulder as he put down his cup of coffee and ran past the couple.

(Y/n) looked at Buck for a slight second, she was afraid this was going to happen. “Let’s go, Let’s go!” Bobby’s voice sounded over the loft, which made the couple run towards the stairs.

A loud cry left Jo’s lips as soon as she moved out of the van and got scooped up by Buck. As soon as Jo was away from the car, (Y/n) and Chimney entered the van through the front window. Pieces of glass were cracking underneath her boots when she stepped through the window and made her way to the back of the van.

Both Chimney and (Y/n) crouched beside the unconscious woman, “Mallory can you hear me?” (Y/n) asked as Chimney placed his fingers against her neck to feel if he could find a pulse, but at the action of him placing his hand on her chest to feel something. “Breathing is weak” Chimney concluded as he opened his medic bag.

“Cap, we’re going to need an air ambulance. Patient is unresponsive, breathing is weak and she lost bladder control. Could be a spinal.” (Y/n) said through the radio. Before she knew it, her brother was standing at the front of the car with a backboard, calling both the paramedics their names.

“Chim, (Y/n), here’s the backboard, the airbus is en route.” her brother said as he handed the backboard over to (Y/n) and Chimney. “Copy that” (Y/n) said, as they placed the backboard behind the two of them.

“I’m trying the sternal rub” Chimney said as he placed his fist onto her chest and started rubbing over her sternum. “Come on Mallory, wake up! Can you hear me?” Chimney said to the victim as her eyes fluttered open. “There you go”

“J-jo, W-w-where is Jo?” the woman asked, as she looked around the space she was in. She was scared. “Your daughter is going to be fine, how are you feeling?” Chimney asked then. “I-I don’t know.” she stumbled.

Chimney moved his position so he could get the c-collar around the woman’s neck easily, as (Y/n) did some tests. “Can you move your arms?” (Y/n) asked Mallory, the woman did what (Y/n) asked and moved her right arm to her face. “That’s good!” she said, as in the meanwhile she untied the woman’s shoe, and carefully slid it off her foot.

“Now, can you wiggle your toes for me?” (Y/n) continued as she had her left hand placed on her heel and the right hand at her toes. She waited a second, but didn’t feel any movement. (Y/n) made eye contact with Chimney as she lightly shook her head.

“Movement in your upper extremities, that’s a great sign.” (Y/n) said as she stood up a little and moved forward. Mallory’s neck was now surrounded with the c-collar, “This is bad isn’t it?” she asked, as she kept looking to the ceiling, or now, since the car was flipped, the other side of the car.

(Y/n) looked at Chimney, she had to be positive. There was hope for her. “Spinal misalignment happens in crashes like this, and the effects are often temporary, okay?” (Y/n) answered her question, as she placed her hand onto Mallory’s for a second and squeezed it softly. “Just got to stay positive, okay?” she said as she saw the terrified woman squeezing her eyes shut for a slight second. “Okay” she sobbed.

“Okay” (Y/n) said as she looked once again at Chimney, and nodded. They were ready to move the woman. (Y/n)’s hands were grabbing the woman’s legs carefully, as Chimney grabbed her upper body. “One, two, three” she counted down, and on the count of three they moved her onto the backboard.

The sound of a helicopter took over the voices of the firefighters on scene. “Hey, looks like we’re getting you an upgrade, too. We got you into first class.” Chimney said with a small smile, and nodded at (Y/n) as a sign that he was ready to lift the backboard.

“One, two, three” Chimney now counted down and they lifted the backboard. (Y/n) knew she’d get a reaction from Buck if he saw her lifting the backboard. But since they didn’t tell anything to anyone, she couldn’t just ask someone else to do it for her. It’d be too obvious.

Slowly (Y/n) backed up, walking backwards towards the front window, just how they entered the van a few minutes ago. And she was right, the second she stepped through the windshield, back first, she could feel eyes burning in her back.

“Shall I take over?” Buck’s voice sounded. She looked over her shoulder, and saw her boyfriend standing there, ready to step in. But she just focussed right back at Chimney, stepping through the windshield too. “No, I got it.” she said as she sent him a small smile.

But she clearly knew that Buck wasn’t happy with it, but she ignored it. She was just doing her job. It wasn’t like she was heavily pregnant at the moment, but she could tell Buck was trying to take care of her, and protect her.

Meanwhile Eddie arrived with a gurney at the black van where Chimney and (Y/n) pulled Mallory from, and the two placed Mallory on the gurney. Eddie, Chimney and (Y/n) helped get Mallory to the air ambulance that had just landed, but the second she walked back towards the ambulance to assist Hen with the other, much younger victim, Buck fastened his footsteps to catch up with his girl.

“Why would you do that?” Buck asked, trying to keep the volume of his voice low enough so only she was the one who could hear what he said. The question that left his mouth made her stop in her tracks, “Seriously? You want to talk about this now?” she asked.

Buck stopped walking and stood across from (Y/n). “You could’ve just called me over on the radio.” he continued. Which made (Y/n) shake her head. “Buck if I did that, I could’ve just come clean right away.” she tried to explain to him.

“(Y/n)! Let’s go!” Hen’s voice sounded over the scene. When (Y/n) glanced quickly at Hen, she could see the paramedic standing next to an open driver’s side car door.

He had to understand that once she called him over, she’d practically blown her entire cover. “I’m not doing this right now Buck” she added in a whisper, and stepped away from him so she could continue doing her job.

But before she could pass Buck, a firm hand took a hold on her wrist. “Look, I’m not mad.” he started, Buck’s eyes turned into those puppy eyes. “I just think you should be aware of the fact that you can’t do everything. Because of..” hé stopped talking, as he motioned with his head down to her stomach.

“We’ll talk later. I have to go.” she said, she didn’t have time to discuss this right now. Even though she had the feeling she needed to explain herself even more, she couldn’t. They had to bring the victim to the hospital.

Buck’s grip on her wrist loosened and before he could think of other things he had to say, she walked away from him.

(Y/n) rushed towards the ambulance Hen was sitting in, waiting on (Y/n), and stepped in the back of the ambulance. When she looked up, she noticed the victim on the gurney and to her surprise, her brother was in there as well.

Eddie was sitting in one of the seats, while he was opening a plastic bag with an IV tube, as his eyes fluttered up, looking at his sister who had just entered the ambulance. “You’re placing an IV?” (Y/n) asked, on which Eddie hummed some kind of “yes”.

“Morphine?” She continued her round of questions, “Sí” he answered, this time in actual words. “Okay” (Y/n) whispered to herself as she opened one of the small cabinets on the wall of the ambulance.

Eddie grabbed the tube from the plastic bag as he moved his eyes up at his sister. He could see something was bothering her, as if she was holding something back. Eddie had noticed the slight bit of annoyance he saw when Buck was talking to her.

Chimney couldn’t be right? Would she ask for a transfer because she can’t work with Buck? Or even worse, her own brother?

“You good?” He tried to break the silence he experienced, as (Y/n) found the bag of morphine and grabbed it out of the cabinet. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she held the morphine in her hand.

A loud sigh left her mouth as she closed her eyes for a small moment, “Yeah, I’m fine.” she answered, as she closed the cabinet she grabbed the morphine bag from.

She turns around as she tries to hang up the bag of morphine, “Come on (Y/n), I can see something is bothering you.” Eddie spoke up.

The doors of the ambulance were being closed, while Eddie waited for an answer, but nothing came out of his sister’s mouth.

It wasn’t until a loud bang came from outside, which made her speak up. She stopped immediately with her actions as she looked around her, the entire ambulance they were in was shaking. It was like the ground was suddenly falling from underneath her feet. “What was-” she said, as her sentence got interrupted by the entire ambulance tilting.

Within a second her back was met by the metal backdoors of the ambulance, sending a wave of pain through her spine. A loud cry left her mouth. But it wasn’t until the windows in the back doors shattered, when she realized the ambulance had hit something else.

Dust entered the back of the ambulance as glass shattered all over (Y/n), who was protecting her head with her two arms. But because of the ambulance crashing into something else, the gurney somehow got off the brakes, launching the gurney with the victim onto (Y/n).

Another cry left her mouth, only this one went through bone and marrow. She felt a sharp pain in her stomach, it felt like she was being stabbed. It hurt like hell, the pain was almost unbearable, she pressed her eyes closed as she slipped one of her hands down to her stomach, only to find a metal beam from the gurney being pierced through her lower stomach.

Lower stomach. Fuck. It was bad enough she fell against those metal doors, and was pierced by a beam. But her lower stomach made it kind of a different story. What if the baby..? She needed someone to tell her something positive. Something like: you’re going to be okay, the two of you are going to be okay.

But the man who knew all about her, and their secret, wasn't here. But then she heard his voice over the radio. “one eighteen, report in. I need a headcount.” Buck’s voice sounded through the radio, gasping, sounding out of breath.

When he said those words, he could feel the adrenaline inside of his body become more and more. “I’m grabbing the ropes.” Ravi’s voice sounded back over the radio. Hen was right in his line of sight. Okay so far so good, two down, four to go.

“I’m in the van, pretty sure I broke a couple ribs.” Chimney groaned. Three. “But this van.. is about to be pancaked” Chimney added, as a sound of creaking metal sounded on the back of his audio.

The sound of one of his team being in pain made his heart ache. “Okay Chim, uh we’re coming to you.” Buck answered Chimney. But there was one person he’d really like to hear from right now.

“(Y/n), what’s your status?” he asked as he pressed the speak button in his radio.

“(Y/n), come in.” her boyfriend’s voice sounded again, getting more and more impatient as he spoke and waited. (Y/n) scanned the back of the ambulance as she wanted to answer Buck, but then she realized her brother was unconscious in the seat he was in earlier. Only the seatbelt of the seat was holding his unconscious body in place.

“(Y/n)?” Her name sounded more like a cry, her eyes grew wide at her brother being unconscious, with a wound on his forehead. (Y/n) searched for her radio, “(Y/n) here.” she groaned at the pain that was becoming worse within the second.

“Are you guys okay?” Buck quickly asked, “Eddie is unconscious, I’m pretty sure he hit his head on the gurney.” she said, slow, weakly with some groans in between her words. “I’m fine.. Just hit my back pretty hard.” she added ending her sentence with a groan she tried to suppress.

How much she wanted to tell Buck about the pain she felt in her stomach because of the gurney, she figured it would be best if she did not. If she did tell him, she wouldn’t know if he was going to be able to do his job.

He couldn’t make any mistakes, not when this call just became a rescue call.

Buck was relieved to hear her voice, he felt his lungs releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. With his knees pressed against the shattered windshield of the ambulance, Buck grabbed his radio once again. “Captain Nash, still haven’t heard from you.” he called through the radio.

He waited one second, that became two seconds, became three seconds, four seconds, five seconds. But he couldn’t hear anything but static sounds.

“Bobby, come in.” (Y/n) could hear the fear in Buck’s voice, as she waited for some kind of response. She knew how much Bobby meant to him, he was like the father he never had. Not that Buck has lost his father, but he was basically never there for him when he needed him.

The sounds of the metal of the ambulance creaking and slightly moving, didn’t exactly calm (Y/n) down. Someone was shifting the weight of the ambulance, but the second there was more movement she could hear Buck’s voice calling her name. “(Y/n)? (Y/n)? Are you back there?” he called out.

She whimpered at the pressure that was still leaning onto her abdomen as she tried to look for the right words. “I’m alive but.. it hurts” she stumbled as she clamped her hand around the metal pipe even more.

(Y/n) could hear dull sounds of Buck talking with Hen in the front seat, but the only thing she could do was stare at her unconscious brother in the seat. “Eddie” she groaned at her brother as she tried to call out louder to him, but she couldn’t.

She needed the extra weight that was being put on the gurney, to be gone. “Jo, are you with me?” (Y/n) asked as she let out a choking breath, trying to keep herself calm and breathe the pain away. “Yeah” Jo answered her question in a cry.

“I’m gonna need you to unbuckle yourself, and try to get some weight off of me, okay?” (Y/n) whimpered as she tried to fight her way through the sentence. “Sorry. Okay." she said as soon as Jo tried to get a look of what was happening down there.

The victim unbuckled herself, as she tried to shift onto the small bench that was on the side of the ambulance. The girl rolled herself onto the bench a little too hard, making the entire ambulance move even more. But how could she blame her? Her leg was broken.

Only the weight of the gurney was now pinning into the wound. “Jo? I need you to look inside that bag.” (Y/n) asked Jo, but the second she asked the question, she immediately started to search for the bag to help (Y/n). ”There’s a small pocket with white small packages.” (Y/n) added.

“These?” Jo asked as she held the small packages up for (Y/n) to tell her she was wrong or right. “Yes, that’s it.” (Y/n) answered her question. “I need you to crack the package, stretch out as far as you can and place it under his nose.” (Y/n) asked Jo, who nodded and did what she asked.

(Y/n) needed her brother to be conscious again, she couldn’t stand it anymore to look at him like he was some kind of halloween decoration. His body was caught by the seat belt, trying to keep him from falling down. “You’re almost there!” (Y/n) tried to motivate Jo as she reached her arm out as far as she could to place the smelling salts underneath Eddie’s nose.

A loud groan filled the back of the ambulance, Eddie opened his eyes and tried to get his spinning head back on track. “Eddie?” his sister’s voice ringed through his ear drums. His head was trying to beat out of his skin.

“What happened?” Eddie mumbled as he waited for his eyes to focus on his sister. “Bridge collapsed” she simply said, trying to save her breath. “What happened to you?” the question left his lips as his eyes finally focussed on the other side of the ambulance. His sister was with her back against the metal back doors of the ambulance, as Eddie tried to find some kind of grip on the cabinets. It almost looked like Eddie was in a funfair ride by the way he was locked into his seat.

“I got attacked by the gurney” she groaned as she tried to find some place comfortable, but it was impossible when the beam was practically trying to pierce her entire body. “But it hurts..” she hissed at the burning feeling in the lower part of her stomach, as she moved her hands over the metal beam. She couldn’t hold this thing any longer inside of her body. She knew it was the wrong choice to just pull out anything from a wound, but this was unbearable.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked as he in the meanwhile scanned the entire scene they were in, trying to find some way to get to safely, so he wouldn’t be dangling on the other side of his sister and try to assist her where he could.

There was silence. The strongest hand of (Y/n) was wrapped around the bright yellow beam that was sticking from the gurney into her lower abdomen. As her other hand was pressing against the gurney to push it away from her.

For a second she closed her eyes, focussed on her breathing, trying to calm herself down even more. In through the nose, four seconds. And out through the mouth, four seconds.

And just as she had reached those four seconds of breathing out, she started pulling the beam from the gurney. She cried out in agony as she pulled the beam and pushed the gurney off her body.

She could hear her brother yelling at her through her cries. “No! (Y/n)! Stop!” he called out, trying to get her to stop her actions. Another scream left her lips. Her hand that was around the beam was being filled with blood that was gushing from the wound in her abdomen. The second the beam was disconnected from her body, she looked down and saw another stream of blood squirting out of the wound.

Oh that was not good. Definitely not good.

The scream went through the back of the ambulance, and was audible from the outside. From the outside it almost sounded like a murder that was going on, or some woman giving birth. It suddenly let Buck’s blood run cold. What the hell was happening on the inside of that ambulance?

“What the hell was that?” Buck spoke through his radio as he was rippling down from the top of the scene, down to the ambulance to get Hen her harness. But mid his way down, he stopped as the scream went through his entire body. But the noise on the radio frequency didn’t exactly calm him down. “(Y/n)? Talk to me!” he added through his radio.

Suddenly loud cries of his girl were audible on the back of the radio, she was pressing the button to talk. But the pain took over for a second. “(Y/n)?” he just gasped through the radio.

“I’m here.. I’m okay..” she gasped, trying to give Buck some sign of life. “I’m coming to get you!” He answered in the heat of the moment, he needed his girl to be out of this mess, only that way he could function normally. “No you are not!” she said as she ended those words with a groan. “Buck, you need to get Chimney out first, and you know it.” Buck knew he had to get Chimney first, he was at the bottom of this all and the ambulance was leaning onto the van he was in.

But it stung him. He wanted to save everyone. But especially (Y/n). He couldn’t lose her. He just wanted her to be safe. “Trust me Buck.” she said softly. His heart was telling him not to, but he had to listen to his head. Chimney needed to be pulled out first. He needed Hen to help Jo, and Eddie could help his sister. That way they’d put less weight on the structure than needed. “I trust you” he sounded like a little boy through the radio.

He had to keep on going. Buck was holding two harnesses. One for Hen, and the other one she’d have to pass on to Eddie.

(Y/n) put her left foot onto the end of the gurney as she pushed it away from her. (Y/n) gasped at the feeling of the weight being off of her, as she placed the blue gloved hand onto her skin and pressed as hard as she could. “Fuck!” she cried out as tears were welling in her eyes because of the pain she was experiencing.

She pressed her head against the steel wall behind her, trying to catch her breath. “Can you pass me the trauma dressing?” she asked as she held out her hand, but the question was more like a whisper. “Why the hell would you do that!” Eddie yelled at her.

“We’re in a tilted ambulance Eddie, the gravity is literally almost pushing the gurney through me. Do you want to see the beam through my entire back?” She said slowly but snappy, her eyes were full of tears and desperation. “Now grab me those damn’ trauma dressing so I can put pressure on this wound.” she continued as she tried to breathe the pain away.

Eddie looked her strongly in the eyes, but then after two seconds, he nodded. Eddie said a prayer, and tied a part of the seatbelt that was crossing his chest around his arm. Trying to make some kind of rope to reach the bench.

All he didn’t need to do was try and give the seatbelt some slack, that way it’d get off the block and he’d tumble down. He stretched his legs out to the side, trying to aim for the other bench on the opposite side of the bench where Jo was lying. He clicked his seat belt loose, as he slowly let himself down, trying to use all his power like he was doing pull ups.

Eddie’s vision was blurry, it almost felt like he was drunk and walking. The small metal sounds of the ambulance creaking didn’t gave all of them a safe feeling, but they were trying the best they could.

It was like looking at Indiana Jones. Eddie lowered himself slowly down, trying not to land too harshly, otherwise the ambulance would shift again. Eddie was now standing just a few feet above (Y/n), he couldn’t exactly reach her, not yet. If they’d reach out to each other now, they’d miss like a few inches.

Eddie rumbles through some drawers, as he grabs the cusy plastic dressing. Trauma dressing. He fishes out the dressing and crouches slowly down as he hands it to his sister. “Here” Eddie says as he passes the package. The second his sister accepted the package and started opening it and bandaging herself, he straightened his legs again as he continued to search for some morphine.

Sobs were sounding from the otherside of the ambulance, “Jo was it? Right?” Eddie asked, as he looked over to the girl that was terrified. “Yeah?” she cried softly as she sniffled. “We’re gonna get you home, okay?” Eddie tried to reassure her, he wasn’t sure it was getting through to her, but he had to tell her. “Okay” she cried, trying to believe the words Eddie told her.

“Tell us about your trip, hm?” Eddie asked her, trying to give her a chance to see some positive things in this mess. “We um.. we just went to Yosemite.” Jo told Eddie and (Y/n) while Eddie was going through another compartment and fished out a needle and a small bottle of morphine.

“Yosemite.. it’s pretty there, right?” Eddie asked Jo as he crouched down once more. “Yeah, really beautiful..” Jo answered. “I’m going to take my son there when we get out of here.” Eddie said, as he now called his sister’s name. “Here, to take some of the pain away.” he added.

She catched the small bottle and needle, and that’s when the side door of the ambulance opened and Hen popped into sight. Hen was in the opening of the door, hanging. Gasping if she had just ran an entire marathon or had climbed Mount Everest.

(Y/n) could see Hen scanning the entire back of the ambulance, as her eye fell onto (Y/n) at the bottom of the ambulance, pressing the trauma dressing onto her skin. Shocked, she looked at the status of (Y/n). “Don’t say anything, just take Jo.” she said, trying to use her normal voice, but all she could do was a loud whisper. But it was enough for Hen to hear her.

Hen slowly nodded her head as she switched towards Eddie, holding some sort of backpack. “I brought you a harness” Hen told Eddie as she tried to pass it over to him. It took her some effort, but she gave the bag a subtle push and the bag landed in Eddie’s hands. There was a rope attached to the bag, so Eddie could safely get out with his harness.

Hen quickly let go of the sight of (Y/n). Blood was all over the floor, on the white trauma dressing and her gloves. It looked like a blood bath. “I’m taking Jo with me.” Hen said as she got out the right equipment to get the girl out. She instructed the girl, and not a few seconds later she was outside.

In the meanwhile (Y/n) opened the plastic package around the sterile needle, and pushed it through the top of the glass bottle labeled with “morphine”. Dots were dancing across her eyes as she tried to focus on the amount in the needle. Once it was filled with just enough for a woman her size, she stuck the needle into her arm and pushed the fluids through her veins.

“Fuck” she gasped as she pulled the needle from her skin and threw it to the otherside of the room so it wouldn’t get to her anymore. Eddie was getting ready to get himself and his sister the hell out of this hell hole. He placed his helmet on his head and clicked it so it was secured.

(Y/n) put as much pressure as she could on the trauma dressing, trying to stop the bleeding. But she could see it was trying to get through the white dressing. Her eyes were squeezed closed, the wound in her lower abdomen stung and the blood loss was causing her to see dots and feel lightheaded. But she could blink most of it away. “(Y/n), what’s your twenty?” Buck’s voice came through the radio as he had gotten Chimney safely to the ground.

Eddie could see his sister was still focussed on the number one thing, keeping the pressure on the wound. She was having trouble, he could tell. He doubted if he had to answer Buck, he didn’t want to make him any more worried than he already was. Eddie placed his hand onto the radio as he held the button. “She’s putting pressure on her wound, we’ll be out in a few” he answered Buck’s question.

“Wound? What wound?” Buck asked Eddie now, making Eddie stare at his sister like he just got caught stealing something. Eddie had said too much. “Eddie. What wound?” Buck’s voice sounded more in an almost threatening way now. He wasn’t asking. Buck needed to know what was happening in the back of that ambulance.

(Y/n)’s eyes shot at Eddie, realizing what he’d done. Their eyes were locked, (Y/n) gave her brother a warning look as she saw his hand wandering back to his radio, ready to answer. “Piece of the gurney stabbed her in her lower abdomen.” Eddie had to do this, otherwise Buck would’ve gone back up the collapsed bridge, and see it for himself. The warning look she had on her face just turned into a thunderstorm. Why did he have to say that?

Panic was rushing through Buck’s veins as he watched the scene, where Hen was rippling down with Jo. A million questions were running through his mind, with the speed of a hundred miles an hour.

Why didn’t she tell him she was hurt? Was she okay? How bad was the wound? And.. the baby. Was the baby okay?

Buck’s hand was pressed on the radio, “(Y/n) come in” he sounded through the radio as his eyes were stuck on the ambulance. But he couldn’t hear anything other than the noise of the frequency.

He waited a few moments to give her time to answer, but he felt his patience was running out. Not even a second of two had passed, and he was already repeating her name. “(Y/n)” her name fell off his lips, as some kind of cry for help.

He held the radio in his hand as he pressed his eyes closed and let his head hang down, looking at his feet. “Buck.. I’m okay” Her voice rang through his ears, it was like a little shy girl was talking to him. But he could hear in her voice that she was holding back a cry.

“Are you both okay?” Buck asked, as he opened his eyes. He needed her to be okay, he needed the one thing they both created to be okay. But with the vague description of whatever wound she had, he couldn’t figure out if they were. “.. is the baby okay?” rattled after that, trying to make the question more clear.

But as soon as those words left his mouth, he forgot something. He forgot everyone around him, was listening to the conversation they were having.

(Y/n) froze in her position, like she thought maybe if she stood still entirely, the time would too. Pretend like he didn’t just say that through the radio. But she could feel her brother’s eyes burning into her skin. Eddie’s eyes grew wide at the words he had just heard.

Busted.

But instead of looking back at Eddie, she chose to grab her radio again. She swallowed as she felt every feeling she could possibly have rushing through her body. “I don’t know Buck.” She answered his question.

Making Eddie realize.

“You are pregnant?” Eddie stumbled with a shocked tone. (Y/n) bit on the inside of her cheek, trying to suppress the stinging feeling on her lower abdomen.

Eddie keeps on shooting questions at her: why didn’t you say anything? How far along are you? Were you even planning on telling me? The team?

“Eddie, for fuck sake stop interigating me” she shot back at him. Her head was hurting, to be honest everything was hurting. From her back, to her stomach, from her head to her toes and everything in between.

“I just don’t get it. Don’t you trust me? The team? If you would’ve told Bobby, maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess now.” Eddie told her, sounding like a dad telling his kids off.

“You and I both know I would’ve ended up exactly the same. Cap would’ve put me on light duties, making me help Hen. But that’s not the point- I was afraid if I told you that I was going to jinx it okay!” she confessed, looking at

The ambulance was creaking once again. Making the two of them be extra careful. “But Eddie, please.. we need to go. The longer we waste, the more blood I lose.”

“You’re right.” Eddie said as he continued to connect the rope to his harness. As in the meanwhile (Y/n) pushed herself carefully up, and got to her feet as slowly and steady as she could.

“Eddie..” the way she said her brother's name made Eddie’s stomach turn. The sound of the metal of the ambulance was becoming louder, he could see her looking around in fear, the terror in her eyes.

Eddie was moving to reach out his hand to his sister, “Ready. Let’s get you-“ he couldn’t even end his sentence as his sister just disappeared in front of his eyes with a blink of an eye.

A horrifying scream left her lips as the gurney yanked itself through the ambulance doors and made the floor beneath her feet disappear.

(Y/n) could practically feel her fingers brushing Eddie’s skin as she reached out at the last second to save herself. But she could feel herself falling. She didn’t know how, or what she did, but out of reflex she could manage to grab a small bar that was attached to the bumper of the ambulance.

The mix of an horrifying cry, Buck’s best friend yelling for his sister and the crash of the van beneath the ambulance down onto the ground made Buck’s stomach turn and set off his alarm Bells inside of him.

The scream he heard went through marrow and bone again like before, Buck thought that scream from before was the worst one he had heard from her, but he was wrong. It was this one that topped every scream. But the sight of his girl struggling to keep a hold of the bar. “Oh my god” Hen gasped as she looked at the scene.

Whatever happened after that, Buck wouldn’t know, he was already running over the scene pulling himself on top of a fallen truck at the bottom of the collapsed bridge.

“Hang on (Y/n)! Hang on baby!” Buck screamed all over the scene, probably loud enough for all the construction workers way back to hear clear as daylight.

Buck didn’t even bother to reattach his harness to one of the spare ropes he used earlier. He wrapped his gloved hand around the rope, and pulled himself closer and closer to be within reach of the ambulance.

She was holding on for dear life, she could feel the skin around her wound starting to stretch. The dots were dancing in her eyes as she tried to use all of her power to keep herself from falling more.

Eddie was trying to get to her, he reached his hand out to her, which she tried to grab, but the gravity was pulling her arm back down.

(Y/n) felt an arm being wrapped around her torso, “I got you! I got you!” Buck said, trying to catch his breath because of the amount of adrenaline he felt inside. “I got her!” Buck called out to the rest of his team as he looked up, to find Eddie.

“Hey, I need you to hold on to this rope okay?” Buck said as he tried to get (Y/n)’s attention. (Y/n) hummed in agreement, as she tried to suppress the pain she felt. She grabbed the rope Buck’s hand was wrapped around and slowly switched from the cold metal of the ambulance to the black rope that was still attached to the upper side of the collapsed scene.

She huffed and groaned at the pain as Buck told her what to do, what they were going to do and how. But they needed to do it quickly and steadily. Sometimes the power in Buck’s arms and (Y/n)’s would run out. “You’re doing so good baby” he gasped into her ear, as they slowly rippled down to the ground with Eddie on their heels.

Buck’s arms were underneath her armpits, as he practically assisted her with moving. The second their feet finally hit the ground, they both let out a relieved sigh. Meanwhile more RA units were arriving on scene.

“Are you good?” Buck asked as soon as they made their way from the pile of rubble onto solid ground. (Y/n) was gasping as she leaned against the rubble, pressing her hand down onto the wound again like she had been doing for minutes. She nodded, “Come on, let’s get you checked out.” Buck said, as he placed her free arm around his shoulder so she could lean her weight onto him.

But she hissed and limped a bit just as soon as she made one step. A soft cry left her lips as she faced the sky, trying to get through the pain. “Just.. a second” she whispered as she pressed her eyes closed again. A worried expression took over Buck’s face, but without a warning, Buck scooped (Y/n) up with his right arm at the back of her knees and his left arm on her lower back. He couldn’t let her be in pain this much longer. “What are you-” she gasped as her feet were swept off the floor.

“Over here! Come on!” Buck called out at the paramedics from the just arrived RA unit who were moving their gurney over the asphalt. As soon as the gurney was in front of Buck, he placed his girl on it. “I think you might need another gurney” (Y/n) said as soon as her eyes fell onto Hen.

Hen gave her a look, basically saying: are you serious right now? That’s what you’re thinking about now? and shook her head. But right after the comment she made, she groaned at the pain as they rolled the gurney towards the ambulance it belonged to.

“This is sergeant Athena Grant.” the oh so familiar voice sounded over the radio. “Wait, wait, wait!” (Y/n) said as she placed her hand onto Buck’s upper arm and gave it a soft squeeze, telling him to stop. “To anyone on scene, I have captain Bobby Nash of the one eighteen, and a civilian. We’re trapped in a container at the bottom of the collapse. He’s pinned, we’re in need of an assist with extraction.” She continued her explanation.

The second Athena mentioned Bobby, (Y/n) pushed herself up from the gurney. But immediately her back got pushed into the gurney again. She didn’t care that she was hurt, or in pain, everybody on their team was injured. And their captain was trapped.

She wanted to help.

“No (Y/n). You’re going to the hospital” Buck strictly told her, as he looked at his team. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, “Buck-” she sighed. But he directly cut her off. “No, you can’t convince me otherwise. You’re going.” Buck stopped her from changing his opinion.

Buck loved (Y/n). But like mentioned earlier, he was like a dad for Buck. He didn’t have the heart for it to leave the scene without searching for Bobby, to try and help to get him out. He had to make a choice. But choosing between his girl and his father figure, sounded impossible.

Buck turned on his heels, but when he did, he was met by one of his team members. Eddie. “Buck.. go be with her.” Eddie said, pointing at his sister. But Buck shook his head as he tried to scan the scene behind Eddie for a collapsed container. “I can’t- I need to find Bobby.” Buck said determined, as he tried to move around Eddie.

Eddie held his hand out to Buck, as some kind of bouncer, he wouldn’t let Buck into this club, in this case, on the scene. “You can, and you will. Go with her” Eddie said as his hand bumped into Buck’s chest. “But Ed-” Buck stumbled.

“We will find Bobby, we got this.”Eddie gave Buck a small, soft push. “But I need you, to look after my sister. She needs you, and now even more than ever.” he added. Buck sighed, he knew Eddie was right. He glanced over his shoulder as he watched (Y/n) being pushed towards the ambulance.

But still, he hesitated. For just a second.

“Okay” Buck sighed, earning a nod from Eddie, practically saying a non-verbal thank you. Eddie turned on his heels, to try to help the rest of the team searching for their captain, but when he had just taken a few steps from Buck, he called out Eddie’s name. Making him stop in his tracks, and face Buck. “Promise me you’ll find him and get him back to us.” Buck said.

“I promise.” Eddie answered, giving Buck a small smile. “Now, get out of here.”

(Y/n) watched the ceiling go from a bright blue, cloudless Los Angeles sky, to an “incredible” white office kind of ceiling. The oxygen mask was sticking to her skin, as she could still taste the concrete dust on her lips.

Everything around her was moving so slowly, the two paramedics from the other station were pushing the gurney. One at the back and one was pulling at the front where (Y/n)’s head was. Buck on the other hand was helping or at least assisting from the side, as he a few times glanced at the girl on the gurney.

“We’ve got an abdominal puncture wound, it seems to have missed major organs.” The paramedic in charge said, as one of the nurses fastened to the gurney to assist. “Already pushed two milligrams of morphine” the paramedic added as they pushed (Y/n) through the second pair of doors.

(Y/n) let her bloody hand grab the oxygen mask, and disconnected the mask from her sticky, dirty skin. “Make that four milligrams, it’s hard to see when you’re sideways.” She added to the explanation of the paramedic as she glanced over to Buck.

Buck couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, he placed his hand onto her’s which was holding the oxygen mask, and helped it place back where it belonged. He brushed his thumb over her hand, “Not to forget to mention that she’s pregnant” Buck added, without looking at any other person in the room but her.

The gurney was being pushed through another set of doors, as they finally entered the emergency room. Buck followed, he wanted to be there for her until she was being brought to surgery. “Trauma bay twelve” a female doctor's voice said, pointing to the right area. To be honest, (Y/n) wasn’t paying much attention to what was happening in the room. There were a hundred different things happening in the ER, and the only things she wanted were: the hole in her stomach being fixed and someone telling her that her baby was doing fine.

“You know you kinda look like Peter Parker in Endgame.” (Y/n) broke the silence as she was waiting on her gurney with Buck right next to it. Buck looked fully confused at his girl, what was she talking about? She pointed with her index finger at her face. “The dust and blood on your face.” she clarified, making Buck remember that he had in fact still had a head wound.

When (Y/n) was in surgery, Buck had been moved himself to the waiting room, where he had been now for way too long. Someone from the nurses did come to Buck, asking if he was okay and if he needed to be checked out. But he told them no, he was fine. The wound on his head was the least he was worried about. He needed his team to be fine.

He had been way too long in this waiting room now. Everybody from the 118 had been discharged but Bobby and (Y/n). Buck had his hands clasped together, and placed against his head, making it look like a prayer.

He was so out of the world that he didn’t realize Athena was standing next to him. She tapped him on the shoulder, while holding two cups of coffee in her hand. “Coffee?” she softly asked as she held it in front of his face.

His hands unclasped as he sighed, “thank you.” he said as he accepted the cup of coffee from Athena. “Doctors think they can release Bobby tonight. You?” Athena tried to start a conversation. “Uhm.. They’re finishing up some tests now, but the doctor said she’ll be fine. When the tests are clear, she’ll be released tomorrow morning.” Buck took a while to explain to Athena.

“You did good on that scene Buck.” Athena said as she took place in the seat next to Buck, the seat was being separated by a small table with a lamp. Buck held the cup of coffee between his hands as he stared into the distance. “Yeah? But why do I still have the feeling I failed?” he asked, as the heat of the cup warmed his hands.

“Buck, you stepped up when nobody else could or did. Maybe not everything did go as planned-” Athena tried to see the bright side of the situation. But it didn’t sit right with Buck. “She fell through the doors.” he started, as he kept his eyes across from him. ”The ambulance started moving, and the gurney went through the doors, taking (Y/n) with it.” he continued.

He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he didn’t think of that. He should’ve known the gurney would’ve yanked itself through the doors. He felt like he didn’t make enough scenarios in his head. He did make enough fake scenarios in his head, but didn’t think of that one.

“Buck.. listen, that wasn’t on you.” Athena started, ”You couldn’t have known the gurney would slip through the doors. That was impotence.” she added as she looked at Buck’s side profile.

On that note, he remained silent. She had a point. He took care of everything, and there would be some things he couldn’t control, like the gurney going through that, or the ground beginning to shift. He just nodded his head, telling himself she was right.

The silence remained for at least a small twenty seconds. “Did I hear it correctly? (Y/n) is pregnant?” Athena changed the subject. Buck glanced at Athena, looking confused. “Uh, yeah..” he said in a confused tone, “H-how?” he stumbled.

“Good news travels fast.” she smiled at him. ”Congratulations Buckaroo.” she said as she placed her hand onto his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “You’re going to be a great dad.” she continued to smile.

“(Y/n) Diaz?” Buck looked confused around, as he found the nurse holding a clipboard with pen in her hand. “Go” Athena whispered, as she pushed Buck softly. He stood up from the chair he was in, and handed his cup over at Athena. He didn’t even take one sip of his coffee, but that didn’t matter.

As fast as he could and wandered to the nurse. “She’s fine. Her wound has been patched up and we’ve made an ultrasound for the baby, who’s safely in the mother’s belly. If you want, you can see her now. She’s still in the ER, bay twelve.” the nurse told Buck.

It felt like a brick had been lifted off Buck’s chest, and he was finally able to breathe. He let out a deep sigh, as he felt the tears burning in his eyes.

She was fine. The baby was fine. They were going to be fine.

“Thank you.” he gasped, as he glanced one more time at Athena for some kind of approval. She gave him a small nod, and then he took off. He burst through the ER doors, aiming for trauma bay twelve. He kept repeating the number on his lips as he finally spotted his girl, in one of those awful hospital gowns. But on her, it looked amazing. She could wear a trashbag and still look amazing.

“Hi” the small greeting fell off her lips. A smile appeared on his face as he came closer. “Hi honey” he said, as he wrapped his arms around her. The feeling of her arms being wrapped around his body sent shivers down his spine. He didn’t know how long they were holding each other like that. It could’ve been minutes.

The grip around his body loosened, as (Y/n)’s hands slipped over his back, over his shoulders to his cheeks. Her warm hands were placed on his cheeks, as he leaned into her touch. “You’re okay” he whispered, making her smile. “No..” she said, making Buck’s smile slightly disappear, morphing into a confused look. “We are” she continued, placing her hand on her stomach.

The smile that disappeared, reappeared on his face. “You know what I also read?” she started, as she felt Buck’s warm lips attached to her forehead. “What did you read?” he asked, at the beginning of the day he was done with the articles. But right now, he knew he had to cherish the moment, because what if he didn’t get to her in time?

“Talking early to your child in the womb, they will recognize your voice sooner.” she continued, as she smiled at Buck and rubbed her hand over her belly.

He smiles as he retrieves out of her touch, and pulls one of the rolling chairs closer to him. One of the chairs doctors would use. He placed his face close to her side, on the same height of her belly. “Hi there, it’s your dad speaking..” he said softly, doubting if he should do this. It felt weird calling himself a dad now, even though he knew he was going to be one within thirty or more weeks.

“I hope your place is comfortable and warm. But I need you to do one thing..” He continued his one sided conversation as he glanced at (Y/n), her hand was placed on the back of his head, her hand softly tracing through his curls.

He turned his head back to the belly, as his warm hand touched her stomach with only the fabric of the hospital gown keeping them apart. “Be sweet for your mommy okay? I know she’s strong, and incredibly stubborn.” he grinned.

As soon as the word stubborn left his mouth, he smiled, but immediately received a flat hand on the back of his head which she used to trace through with her hand, just a second ago. “Alright, sorry. That was mean.” he apologized.

“But she has to carry you for at least forty weeks. So no morning sickness, or bigger breasts, or even random nosebleeds.” Buck’s voice sounded over the small trauma bay they were in as he kept his voice soft and low.

“Just stay in there, get comfortable. Mommy got you, trust me.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

#911 #911 fox #911 abc #911 imagine #imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #evanbuckley

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saraakpotter · 7 months ago

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She is my girlfriend(BBC Sherlock x reader)

summery: 3 times Sherlock lied about being your boyfriend and the time he made it real warnings: i think none but there are spoilers on the show if you haven't watched it yet genre: fluff p.s: i added some scenes and changed some dialogues in some parts.

number one: during 'the blind banker'

you were a detective. you went on cases with Sherlock and John. now you had to go into Eddie Van Coon's apartment.

"they are new to the apartment aren't they?" you said.

Sherlock smirked: "yes, they are"

"how are you so sure?" John asked

Sherlock points at the name on the doorbell.

"maybe they changed it." John said.

"no one would do that" you said and Sherlock rang.

"hello?" a woman's voice said some moments later

"ummm, hello miss, we are your downstairs neighbors. i don't know if you know us." Sherlock said

"uh, umm, no. we are new" the woman said.

"well, me and my girlfriend forgot our key's in our apartment" Sherlock said wrapping one arm around you and you rose an eyebrow but quickly played along.

"oh, do you want me to open the door for you?" the woman asked

"yeah, ummm, could we come from your balcony?" Sherlock asked.

"the balcony?!" the woman said surprised and Sherlock nodded.

after she left you came out of his arms.

"your girlfriend?" you asked with a raised eyebrow and John chuckled.

"oh, please. it had to be believable." he said.

"uh-huh" you said

number 2: during 'a scandal in Belgravia'

"punch me in the face" Sherlock said

"punch you?" John said

"yes, punch me in the face. didn't you hear me?"

"i always hear 'punch me in the face' when you talk but it's usually subtext" John says

"yeah" you agreed and then, without another word you punched Sherlock in the face.

"i always wanted to do that" you joke

"ouch" Sherlock says "ok..." he starts but gets cut of by another punch by John.

"you are right! i think i did too" John says chuckling making Sherlock roll his eyes.

after forcing Kate, Irene's assistant to open the door you entered the house.

"who is the beautiful lady?" Kate asked with a fake smile

"oh, i..." you started but Sherlock cut you off

"she is my girlfriend" he says

"oh" Kate's fake smile fades and she walks to the room asking you to follow.

"i literally just punched you in the face" you whispered

"i asked you to" he says and you tried to hide your smile

number three: during 'the hounds of Baskerville'(i added this scene)

"hi" Sherlock says sitting next to a random costumer at the bar.

"hello, what's the problem?" the man said

"well, me and my girlfriend are here for vacation and we heard whispers about a huge dog in this town. in the woods." he says

"we made a bet. i said there is no such a thing and he disagrees" you played along

"so, you are here more often right? we wanted to know which one of us will win" Sherlock said placing a hand around your shoulders to make it look more realistic.

"oh, oh, this is way more than a dog. it's a monster. you should believe in it." the man says and then he turns to look at you "of course i don't want to scare a pretty woman like you"

you rolled your eyes and Sherlock glared at him and left before he could finish.

"ok, thank you for your help." he says trying to act unbothered.

"wow, you don't have to be so overprotective" the man say making you smirk and Sherlock roll his eyes.

number four: the real confession

"y\n?" Sherlock says walking to the room.

"yes?"

"i wanted to ask you something" he takes a deep breath.

"ok, what is it?"

"will you....can you....oh god!"

"Sher, just say it. its okay."

"ummm.....willyoubemygirlfriend"

"i'm sorry?" you raise an eyebrow

"oh god" he takes another deep breath "look, i'm not usually this nervous about anything but this really means to me and it has been on my mind for months....will you, be my girlfriend?" he finally says

"what?" you chuckle making him look more worried than he already is "you were nervous to ask me to act like your girlfriend? i have done that a lot of time. i'm actually starting to think it is real" you joke.

"what is it this time? a serial killer or another guy with mental health issues? maybe another naked woman?" you continue

"no....i....i mean be my actual girlfriend" he corrects

"what?" now you were really confused

"you see, all this time, when i acted like you were my girlfriend or acted jealous, it was because i liked the thought of that."

he waited for you to answer but when you didn't he continued.

"will you?" he said "be my girlfriend"

"this isn't a test to see how sentimental i am?" you asked half-jokingly

Sherlock chuckled "no" he said.

"then yes, Sherlock Holmes. yes, i will be your girlfriend"

#sherlock holmes imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #bbc sherlock holmes #john watson x reader #dr john watson #sherlock holmes #bbc sherlock fanfiction

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pandapetals · 3 months ago

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You Make Me Nervous

worst wolverine/logan x fem!reader - inspired by a quote i heard from a rom-com, fluff, cute, happy ending, wade being wade, no y/n used, no reader description

Wade gives Logan relationship advice to help win you back.

read on Ao3

Logan couldn’t believe he was sitting on the sofa, nursing a beer, and listening to Wade Wilson of all people giving him “love” advice. It was bad enough that he’d let the fact he was seeing someone slip in front of Wade a month ago—now he was stuck dealing with the consequences.

“You gotta tell her how you feel, peanut. She can’t read your mind—unless she can? Oh my God, is she a mutant?!” Wade gasped, his eyes widening as he dramatically clutched at his heart. “Please tell me she’s a mutant. Oh, is she telepathic? Does she know all your dirty little secrets already? Can she hear what I’m thinking right now?” He leaned in closer, whispering loudly, “Because I’m thinking about chimichangas and some other stuff I probably shouldn’t say in polite company.”

Logan groaned, his head falling back against the worn-out cushions of Wade’s sofa. He stared up at the ceiling, contemplating how quickly this conversation had spiraled out of control. “For the last time, Wade, she’s not a mutant.”

“Boring!” Wade shouted, throwing his hands up in the air before plopping down on the couch next to Logan. “So what’s the problem then? You messed it up, and now you’re sitting here all broody, which I gotta say—doesn’t look good on you. You’re like a sad puppy with claws. A wolv-puppy.”

Logan shot Wade a glare, though the threat was half-hearted at best. “It’s complicated,” he muttered, taking a long swig of his beer.

Wade gasped again, dramatically clutching his chest. “Complicated? No! Say it ain’t so! Two emotionally stunted, violence-prone badasses couldn’t figure out how to talk about their feelings. The horror! This is literally the plot of every rom-com I’ve ever watched, and trust me, I’ve watched all of them.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not,” Wade replied, winking and nudging Logan with his elbow. “Lemme guess—you didn’t tell her how you felt, she got tired of waiting, and now you’re here with me instead of—oh, I don’t know—being all naked and cuddly with your very hot, very human girlfriend.”

Logan growled, though there was no real anger behind it. Mostly just frustration. “Look, I don’t do the whole... talk about feelings thing. It ain’t me.”

Wade raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching into a smirk. “No shit, Sherlock. You’re emotionally constipated. But here’s the thing, bud—women? They like to hear how you feel. You can’t just brood in a corner and expect them to pick up on your ‘bad boy with a heart of gold’ vibe all the time. Sometimes, you actually have to say something.”

Logan took another swig of his beer, his jaw tightening. “I’m not good with words.”

“Oh, I noticed.” Wade leaned back, putting his feet up on the coffee table and crossing his arms behind his head like he had all the time in the world. “But you don’t have to be Shakespeare. Just be honest. Tell her she makes you nervous.”

Logan frowned, setting his beer down with a thud. “She doesn’t make me nervous.”

Wade gave him a look, half-amused and half-exasperated. “Okay, fine, you’re not nervous. You’re Wolverine, Mr. ‘I’ve lived a hundred lives and fought more people than I can count.’ But you wanna know why she walked out on you? Because you didn’t let her in. You didn’t tell her that maybe—just maybe—she’s the one thing in this world that doesn’t piss you off.”

Logan huffed, sinking further into the couch. He hated how Wade was actually making sense. That was the worst part of this—Wade being right.

Wade’s smirk grew, sensing Logan’s reluctance. “Look, just say what I’m telling you. Repeat after me: ‘You don’t annoy me, you make me nervous.’ Simple. Done. Boom. You’re back in her good graces and probably naked by the end of the night. Win-win.”

Logan shook his head, rubbing his temple like Wade was giving him an actual headache. “I’m not saying that.”

“Sure you are,” Wade shot back, his eyes gleaming. “You’re gonna walk up to her, all gruff and serious, give her that intense look you do, and say it. ‘You don’t annoy me, you make me nervous.’ Trust me, it’ll work like a charm. Then boom—kissy-face, maybe a little apology sex, and then you’ll be back to being all... domestic or whatever you do in your downtime.”

Logan groaned, running a hand through his already tousled hair. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of taking advice from Deadpool, but he was running out of options. It had been a month since you’d walked out, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since. The way you’d looked at him that night—hurt, disappointed—had stuck with him, gnawing at him like nothing else ever had.

“You know she left because you’re an emotional brick wall, right?” Wade added helpfully, flipping through the channels on his TV like this wasn’t the most serious conversation Logan had had in weeks.

Logan clenched his jaw. “Yeah, Wade, I got that.”

“Well, good. Acknowledging it is the first step. The second step is getting off your ass, going to her place, and saying the thing I told you. Preferably with some dramatic background music playing.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Wade. “I don’t need background music.”

“Oh, you absolutely do,” Wade replied, grinning as he finally landed on an 80s rom-com playing on TV. “Don’t worry, I’ll follow behind with a boombox if necessary. Now go get your girl back, Romeo.”

Logan stood up, finishing the rest of his beer in one gulp before tossing the empty bottle onto the coffee table. “If this backfires—”

“It won’t,” Wade interrupted, hopping up from the couch and clapping Logan on the back. “But if it does, we can always go with plan B: I woo her with my devastating charm and then hand her back to you as a peace offering. It’s the perfect plan.”

Logan shot him a warning look, and Wade held up his hands in mock surrender. “Kidding! Jeez. Relax, Wolvie. You’re way too uptight for someone with a healing factor.”

With one last exasperated sigh, Logan headed for the door, his mind already racing with what the hell he was going to say when he saw you. The thought of telling you how he felt—actually putting it into words—was harder than he cared to admit but the thought of losing you for good? That was something he couldn’t handle.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” Wade called after him, grinning as Logan disappeared into the night.

You hadn’t expected to see Logan. You weren’t sure if you expected to see him at all, to be honest. Yet, there he was, standing in your doorway, looking as rough and rugged as ever. His hair was a mess, his stubble heavier than usual, and his eyes—those deep, unreadable eyes—were locked onto you with an intensity that made your breath hitch in your throat.

“Logan,” you started, your voice softer than you intended.

“I need to talk,” he said, his voice gruff, almost hesitant. Logan was never hesitant. It caught you off guard.

You stepped aside, letting him in, the familiar scent of leather and smoke filling your space as he moved past you. He stood in the middle of your living room, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, looking like he was trying to decide where to start.

“You don’t annoy me,” he said suddenly, the words coming out fast and a little clumsy. “You... you make me nervous.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as you processed what he’d just said. Logan shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes darting away from yours like he wasn’t used to being this vulnerable.

“I didn’t... I didn’t tell you that before,” he continued, his voice softer now, almost grumbling. “And that’s why you left but I don’t want you to leave. Not again.”

There it was—raw, honest, and maybe not perfectly eloquent, but it was Logan. That was all you had wanted—needed.

“You make me nervous because I... I care. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I don’t know how to say that. So I mess it up. But I’m not... I’m not ready to lose you.”

You stood there, your heart racing, the weight of his words sinking in. He might not have been good with feelings, but in this moment, he was giving you everything he had.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your eyes softening as you reached for his hand. “You don’t have to be perfect, Logan,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his calloused palm. “I never expected you to be.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to where your hand met his, and for a moment, he just stood there, silent and still, like he was struggling to let himself take comfort in something so simple. You could see the storm of emotions behind those dark eyes—the anger, the frustration, the fear—but also the tenderness he tried so hard to hide.

“I know I’m not easy to be with,” Logan said, his voice rough but quieter now. “Hell, I’m barely around sometimes. And when I am, I don’t—” He paused, running a hand through his already messy hair, clearly frustrated with himself. “I don’t say things the way I should. But I’m here now. And I’m tryin’ to say it.”

His words hung in the air, raw and uncertain, but they were enough. You knew what it took for him to admit this, to let himself be vulnerable in a way he’d always fought against. For you, that effort—his trying—meant more than anything.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him, your other hand resting on his chest. “I just need you to let me in. I don’t expect you to be someone you’re not, but I need to know that you care. That this matters to you.”

Logan’s eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, all the gruffness and bravado fell away, leaving just the man underneath. The man who, for all his rough edges and scars, cared more deeply than he ever let on.

“I do care,” Logan said, his voice a low rumble. “I just... I don’t know how to show it sometimes. But you’re not like the rest of ‘em. I don’t want you to be just another person I’ve lost.” He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words. “I’ve lost too many people. I don’t want you to be one of ‘em.”

Your heart squeezed at the rawness in his voice, the way he let those words hang heavy between you.

“You won’t lose me,” you whispered, stepping even closer until your body was pressed against his, your hand resting over his heart.

Logan closed his eyes for a second, as if trying to steady himself, then let out a long breath. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly ease as he let you in—finally, fully.

“I’ll try,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll take care of it... take care of us. Just... don’t walk away again.”

You let out a soft sigh of relief, your forehead resting against his chest as you felt the weight of the past month lift off your shoulders. “I didn’t want to leave, Logan. But I didn’t know if you’d ever let me in. You’re so used to doing everything alone...”

He pulled you tighter against him, his grip firm but not suffocating. “I’m not alone when I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against the top of your head.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you buried your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and something undeniably Logan. For a moment, you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside your door fading into the background.

“I guess Wade was right,” you said after a beat, your voice muffled against his chest.

Logan groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”

You laughed softly, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “He told you to say all that, didn’t he?”

Logan’s face twisted into a grimace, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah... don’t remind me.”

You chuckled, rising onto your toes to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “Well, it worked. So maybe you should give Wade a little credit.”

“I’m not giving that idiot anything,” Logan muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips now. “He’s probably out there right now, planning some dumb stunt just to celebrate how ‘wise’ he is.”

“You know he’s never gonna let you live this down, right?” you teased, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.

Logan groaned again, his head falling back for a second as if resigning himself to the fate of dealing with Wade’s inevitable gloating. “Yeah, I know. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You grinned, leaning up to kiss him again, slow and lingering. “Well, I think it’s worth it.”

Logan’s hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin as he deepened the kiss. When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice low and soft. “You’re worth it.”

Wade’s grin was almost as big as the ridiculous neon sign he’d stuck outside his apartment, flashing in obnoxious pink letters: "Wade Wilson: Love Doctor."

“So, how’d it go?” Wade asked, lounging on his couch with a bowl of popcorn like he was watching some kind of live soap opera.

Logan stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like he was five seconds away from strangling Wade. “You’re an idiot.”

Wade gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “An idiot who got you back with your super-hot girlfriend? I’ll take it.”

Logan glared at him, but the usual threat behind the look was missing. “You’re lucky I don’t gut you right here.”

Wade tossed a piece of popcorn in the air and caught it in his mouth, grinning. “Please, you love me. Admit it. I saved your romantic ass.”

Logan let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t save anything.”

Wade waggled his eyebrows, leaning forward. “So... did you say the line? Huh? Did you tell her she doesn’t annoy you, she makes you nervous? Was it super romantic? Did she melt? Were there fireworks? Wait—did you guys have apology sex?!”

Logan’s eye twitched. “Wade—”

“I mean, seriously, when do I get to meet her? We could totally do a double date! I’ll wear a tux, she’ll wear that leather jacket you’re always brooding in, it’ll be super cute—"

Logan growled. “You’re pushing it.”

Wade grinned, utterly unfazed. “Admit it. I’m a love genius. I’ve got a natural gift for this relationship stuff. Really, I should be writing books.”

Logan turned on his heel, already heading for the door. “I’m leaving before I do something we’ll both regret.”

“Bye, best friend!” Wade called after him, waving dramatically. “Tell your girlfriend I said hi! And that I want her number!”

Logan didn’t dignify that with a response, but as he stepped outside, he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Wade might have been the biggest pain in the ass in the universe, but... maybe he was right about one thing.

Some things really were worth it.

#fluff #logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x you #x men wolverine #james logan howlett #x men logan #logan x reader #marvel #mcu #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #worst logan #worst wolverine #hugh jackman #worst logan x reader #deadpool wolverine

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etherealily · 9 months ago

Text

𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙃 // Nate Jacobs.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Dark. SFW, but discretion advised.

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 4 : Shards

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc.: You're needed. Now.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

It's not like you even knew Nate.

You knew of him, sure, quarterback and shit, but still, it was unlikely your paths would ever cross.

Until they did.

Until he started following you on Instagram.

That shit... was so unbelievably odd that you almost blocked him because you thought it was a fake account. But then you saw the mutuals. Holy shit. This was legit.

The fact that his account was private didn't surprise you. Yours was public because you had nothing to post and his was private because he had everything to hide.

You sent him a request. No biggie. I mean, he had to accept, right? He was the one who followed you first - it was only fair. And if it took too long, then you could always unsend it, yeah? Yeah.

It didn't take too long. It barely took three minutes.

Okay. Cool. Weird but cool.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you. An average social media interaction. Good.

--------

Come Friday evening, you decided that watching Maddy cheer was a little less important than your deadline and building your portfolio.

She absolutely supported you (rolled her eyes and said 'whatever, nerd. You still love me, right?') but was a little upset about it (pouted and called you a cunt).

Three hours went by, and you surprised yourself with the amount of work you were getting done. This is great. Friday evening well spent. Work a bit more, and then-

Nate Jacobs tagged you in a Close Friends story.

Close Friends? Tagged? NATE JACOBS?

Okay, one : no fucking way were you on his Close Friends.

Two : there were virtually zero pictures of the two of you, so tagging you was moot.

Three : there was supposed to be a game starting about fifteen minutes from now, Blackhawks versus whatever pretentious team they were going to beat, so why the fuck was he even online?

(Oh, yeah, the Blackhawks were absolutely fucking awesome.)

The story was only text. Text and nothing more.

Y/N, accept my message request. Now. I am not fucking around.

What message request? WHAT the fuck was going on?

You frowned, immediately scrolling over to messages. Shit. There was a request.

A picture, along with six other messages.

This was so strange. It was especially strange that he found the time to text you, when he was supposed to be practicing throwing the old pigskin around for the victory of his school. But text you he did. As if him following you wasn't enough to give you whiplash. "Yo."

"You're not here." No shit, Sherlock.

"You should be."

What the hell was that supposed to mean? This was the most excruciatingly awkward interaction you'd ever had.

"You should be here. Come."

Did he think he was super macho with all this mysterious, vague, one-word bullshit he was spewing? You know what, you'd actually bet your entire school tuition he did. But you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of asking why.

"U don't just send requests to random people. Don't act like you don't know me. Don't ignore my texts."

"I'm fucking losing it. Come now or else."

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

This was the most random thing to ever happen to you. Nate Jacobs, some random jock you never even said one word to, was texting you as if you had been best friends since two years old and you had always been all rah-rah-go-team for him.

You were almost scared to open the picture. Instagram asked you if you were sure. Once, twice. You should have listened. But you didn't, and you were about to face the consequences.

Red. That was the first thing you saw, and the first thing that had ever grossed you out enough to physically throw your phone away.

So much red.

Above the red, concealed almost cruelly, was a black box with white text in it. For a moment, your eyes were overwhelmed, so overwhelmed with the monstrosity in front of you that you couldn't even begin to comprehend what the words meant. You picked your phone back up, squinting your eyes and blocking out the rest.

He must have noticed you accepted his request, because you saw 'Typing...' pop up way too fast for him not to have been waiting.

"I'll cut deeper if you don't show up."

Nate Jacobs was a cruel and manipulative bastard of a man who you would happily let die.

But not like this.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You glanced at the screen and then back at the road, from time to time. There was no indication that he was typing. The 'online' sign still stayed. Okay. So he either just threw his phone away while still on your chat or he was about to-

Nate Jacobs started an audio call.

Clearly tonight wasn't going to be the night you stayed in and finished all your assignments, like you'd decided.

"Pick up or I'll fucking kill you."

Yup, that sounded about right.

You laughed, incredulously. The genuine threat wasn't lost on you, but what else does one do in this situation besides laugh at the absurdity of it all?

Better safe than sorry. You swiped up.

"Y/N, please just come."

It felt so weird to hear him say your name. It felt even weirder to hear him say 'please'.

"Why?"

"You need to be here." His voice was unwavering.

"Look, Jacobs, I'm sorry, but I have projects and assignments to work on. Not to mention, my portfolio-"

You wanted to see how far you could take it. He couldn't hear your car's sounds, and he couldn't possibly track your location, so according to him, you were still sitting at home, petulantly.

If he was joking, he'd just cuss you out drunkenly. If he wasn't, he'd... keep begging.

"Jesus fuck, Y/N, just come!"

"I can't. I'm sorry."

Keeping your calm was the best thing you'd ever done for yourself, the greatest form of self-care you could give yourself, because Nate Jacobs sensing nervousness was like sharks smelling blood in the water. Quick and bad.

"I have important shit, too, you know? Scouts are here, Y/N, please!"

"Look-"

"Coach, I know, just five more minutes - FUCK, Y/N, you gotta come.", he pleaded, his tone becoming far too pathetic to brush off.

"Why?"

"Why? Whaddayamean why?", he huffed out, frustrated, as if you were supposed to know this already.

2 + 2. What galaxy we live in. The colour of the sky. Why you were needed at the game. According to this asshole, all these things were common knowledge.

"I will cut deeper."

"Stop bullshitting, Jacobs."

You hoped to god that your voice didn't betray your bewilderment. This better be a sick fucking joke.

"I'm cutting."

"Stop."

"Coach says the five minutes are up, but I won't play without you here."

A video. SHIT. FUCK.

"What the fuck is your problem?!"

Actually, no. This better not just be a joke, because if the entire school was in on this shit, you would end up cutting him.

The grunts of pain and sharp inhales from his side of the call got more and more grotesque as you pulled into the school parking lot.

The school had an unsettling vibrancy to it after hours, and this was only exacerbated by the fact that you were supposedly the cause for a boy to slice through his own skin. It shouldn't have seemed this vibrant, this overwhelming, this vivid, this.... bright, but it did. The world moved at an eerily quick pace, like a carnival ride on LSD.

As you ran across the parking lot and gripped the gate to the stadium and basically swung right past it, you finally realized how fucking loud a crowd could be.

It was like they knew that their QB might be bleeding out because of you, because they seemed to scream loud enough to torture you for eternity.

Immediately manhandled by Chris McKay -another jock you had absolutely no connection to, but who seemed to have a very personal grudge against you-, you were pushed out of the locker rooms as quickly as you came in. Fuck's sake.

"Let me go , McKay!"

"Coach is trying to calm him down, and if he sees you, we got no idea what he might do, okay? OKAY?", he ordered, sternly, through clenched teeth as he shook your shoulders.

He was earnestly trying to be calm and gentle, but his fingers gripping harder and harder into your arms did jackshit to help his case.

"Okay."

He nodded, sighing in some emotion that seemed oddly like relief.

What, did he expect more of a fight? Did he expect you to be all 'no, I gotta see him now?'

You had no clue who the hell this bastard was, let alone what he wanted. No way were you going to kick and shout for him.

"What the fuck is his problem?", you asked, sighing against McKay's chest, exhausted.

He shrugged, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "He's stressed about the game."

"So he cuts himself in my name? We don't even know each other, dude!"

"Okay, he isn't exactly the one you go to for rationality, alright?"

"Yo, the fuck's going on, man? The game was supposed to start-"

The other team's captain.

"Yeah, we're just, uh, dealing with a situation over here.", assured McKay, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from going ballistic at Nate. Or you. Most likely Nate. But even more likely you. "Tell your coach we're so sorry, and we'll be out in a minute, tops."

The other guy scoffed, grumbling as he stomped away, glaring more at you than McKay. What, did everyone know now?

"He thinks we're trying to hook up before the game.", explained McKay, patiently, almost embarrassed. "It's a thing some athletes do, 'for luck'."

Jocks were the weirdest fucking aliens to ever exist.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Crimson traced paths through the blinding white of the bandages wrapped tightly like dependent vines around his palm. Noticing the lack of uniformity of white, Coach tsked. "We need more. McKay!"

"Yes, Coach?"

"One more, then you can send her in."

"She came?" Nate's voice, though feeble and exhausted - and now, hopeful - was heard through the tiny gap in the door that McKay made sure would remain tiny as he passed the last bandage to him, and you didn't want to admit it, but it broke your heart.

Ew. Nate Jacobs was breaking your heart?

Coach finished wrapping Nate up, and McKay guided you in, with both measured aggression and protectiveness.

Nate's eyes lifted and brightened up immensely, a feat you'd only thought possible by a lone spark igniting and breaching every inch of a dry leaf.

"You came."

"Son, I don't know what the hell you were thinking-"

"No, no, Coach, she's here, we can play."

Everyone stopped breathing at that moment. What the hell did the self-wounding quarterback asshole just say?

"What'd you just say, Jacobs?"

"We can play. Y/N's here. This isn't my good palm, anyway, so it's fine. Let's go."

And just like that, Nate was back. The amount of theses that could be written on this sheer anomaly of a man, the amount of studies that could be conducted, the amount of shock anyone else in this situation would go through- all unheard of.

No one else could handle it, though, besides all the people right there in the room. The best friend : self-taught and well-versed in handling him, the Coach : the authority figure that could calm him down with a bunch of fatherly words and....

And you : no one knew what the fuck you brought to the table. But something told you no one else would have survived in your shoes.

"Alright... then...?" Even Coach was absolutely speechless.

Nate nodded briskly, shooting up with a sudden burst of energy as he smiled at you.

Smiled.

Ladies and gentlemen : Nate Jacobs was on crack, confirmed.

He drew you in against his chest with an extremely unprecedented jerk, and you locked eyes with McKay behind him as he did so.

Not crack. Probably fent.

Your questioning gaze- which obviously said 'what in the everloving fuck is he doing?' - was met with a shrug and a look which suggested he barely even recognized his best friend right now.

"Okay, let's go WIN this motherfucker!", shouted Nate, patting your shoulder and loudly clapping his hands together before sprinting out of the locker rooms into the cheering football field.

It was dressed entirely in Blackhawk colours and bathed in a fluorescent, sickeningly pale light that you had to now spend an hour and a half in. Ugh.

Whiplash or not, you were about to throw up.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You know those moments after a surreal event? When you just... sit. Stare into space and... ruminate.

You were having one of those in your car. The game had ended, really well, too, with the Blackhawks winning by a landslide. Your windshield had never held such secrets before. You stared through it.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Bang.

You turned. Nate Jacobs' fist fell on your window more times than you thought was necessary. 'Unlock the door, Y/N.'

You shook your head. Not a fucking chance in hell.

"'Y/N, don't be difficult, unlock the fucking door."

Something in you told you that that would be the worst mistake of your entire life.

"I'm sorry, I just want to talk, yeah?"

You had no idea if he deliberately made it a point to rest his bandaged palm on the window in full display to manipulate you, or if it was just a coincidence.

Just a coincidence, right?

You sighed, nodding your head in the direction of the passenger's seat as you unlocked it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He slid in, grinning as he shut the door.

"You catch the touchdown?"

"Yeah. I did."

"What'd you think? Smoothest match yet?"

"Sure."

His grin gave way to a lour as he scoffed. "Why are you so cold? Our school won."

"Why am I so cold? Why am I so cold? You asshole, you just cut yourself to make me show up!"

"Because you didn't show up when I asked nicely!"

"You're a psychopath." The effect of this word on him was oddly intriguing. He seemed to both be offended by it and seemed to get off on it.

"Can I just explain?", he sighed, sucking on his teeth for a moment as he watched other students, cheering, whistling, hooting and drinking, through your windshield.

You gestured at him to continue. He wasn't worthy enough of your words.

"You know athletes have...", he trailed off, searching desperately for the right word of vindication.

"Small dicks?"

"Okay, deserved.", he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Look, we have, like... superstitions, sometimes. For luck."

"Like the hooking up thing."

"How do you know about that?"

"McKay told me."

He scoffed, shaking his head as if his friend had divulged the biggest secret, as if he had broken some moral code.

"Alright, fine, whatever. But, uh, I pretend like it's not something I do, but I kinda have them too."

If he was about to say what you thought he was going to, you were about to press into the wound just to watch him bleed again. How dare he.

"My, um, my first game, I bumped into you on my way to the locker rooms.", he admitted, clearing his throat as if to clear space for whatever he was going to say - because it was so obviously the solution to String Theory, like he was making it out to be.

But oh, shit. He actually was going to say it.

"And we won. The next game, I did the same again, by accident. Y'know, just, this time, I fist-bumped you."

"When the fuck did you-"

"You were drunk, and you were cheering all of us on with your friends. You went for McKay's fist, but I did it instead. Uh, yeah, anyway. So, from the... maybe fourth? Yeah, the fourth game, I made it a point to at least brush my arm past you. Haven't lost a game since."

Your touch was his good luck charm? Was he clinically insane? Or was he just a massive loser?

"What's next? Our rising signs are aligned?"

"It's not a fucking joke, Y/N!", he snapped, his fist clenching.

"Really? Because it's pretty fucking hilarious."

"You know how hard it was for me to even admit I had superstitions, let alone about some random nobody girl I've never even talked to?"

No, no, he was not trying to make you feel bad, no goddamn way.

"You know how hard it was for me to see some random nobody guy bleeding out because of me?"

"It wasn't that deep." The pun was intended. It was so evidently intended that you wanted to slap the smirk off his lips.

"Yeah, okay, get out."

"Okay. You better show up to the next one, babygirl, or I'll have to take more drastic measures."

The audacious son of a bitch ruffled your hair and winked before he left.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

"C'mon, Y/N, don't be a cunt. Just do it. High five me. Fist bump me. Hug me. Whatever. Just do it, I've got a game to get to. And... everyone's watching."

The very next weekend, there was another game. Last game of the season. And you were supposed to be there, of course, because Nate's 'entire life depended on it.' And what's worse? He'd dragged you there, from your internship.

That's right. He'd basically come to your place of work, interrupted a conversation with your boss, and tugged you along with him because of his borderline insane obsession with having to touch you for luck.

He could have gotten away with it, too, if his 'good luck charm' theory hadn't involved you having to make contact with him right before the game.

And now you were out there on the field. Backing away from him. Refusing.

"Y/N, please."

"Fine."

You slapped him across the face, as hard as you possibly could.

The entire football field gasped.

He'd fucked up your week with the picture of the blade carving into his skin, and now, he was fucking up your career by costing you your internship. And what's worse, he didn't even care.

"Go. Play now."

He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes to suppress his rage before he opened them again. "That's not how it works. It has to be mutual. Like a fist bump. Or bumping into each other."

"Oh, okay.", you shrugged, grabbing his wrist before using it to uppercut him. "NOW go. PLAY."

You didn't know if you were being 'whoo'd or 'boo'd by the crowd, but at this point, the only thing you could hear was the red hot fury in your boiling blood.

He bit his lip as you let go of his hand, and before he jogged out onto the field, you could have sworn he said something that, if you'd heard it right, could cut through your entire soul and ruin your self-perception for years - something absolutely, shatteringly degrading.

You hoped you'd heard wrong.

Taking your seat in the stands, you scrolled on your phone, ignoring the entire fucking game. As expected, text from your team leader.

Gone. Internship gone. LoR gone. Nate Jacobs? About to be gone.

-------

He won.

He. Fucking. Won.

And that smirk that he gave you before blowing you a kiss that immediately morphed into flipping you the bird made you want to genuinely ask him to recreate that video once again.

You hated yourself for it, but yes.

You wanted him dead.

All the trauma he'd given you the past week couldn't be left unpunished.

Oh, to knock him off his pedestal. OH, to be the one to make him scream in pain instead of arrogant mirth.

"Whoo! Nate FUCKING Jacobs, baby!", he cheered in your ear as you gritted your teeth, walking back to your car. "And, of course, you."

You threw your bags into your car, ignoring him as you get in, starting the engine. He thumped on the hood of the car. "Come on, you can't still be mad! Your boss was looking down your shirt, anyway!"

"Oh, and I'm supposed to believe you did this out of the goodness of your heart?", you scoffed.

"That's right, baby, chivalry ain't dead."

"No, but you're about to be. Get the fuck out of my way."

"Hey, I need a ride. Gimme a lift."

"No chance in hell, Jacobs."

"Stop wounding me. Let me in."

"Or what?"

"I'll break your window.", he shrugged, casually. Normal things. The sun will rise tomorrow. Seasons will change. He'll break your window.

"I wouldn't be letting you in if I didn't think you were psychotic enough to actually do that."

He chuckled, sitting as he rested his duffle bag on his lap. A couple moments later, he looked up at you. "What? What are you waiting for?"

"Tell me where to go."

"You don't know where I live?"

"Okay, let me explain this to you, slowly. I didn't know jackshit about you till, like, a week ago. I didn't know your age or what kind of car you drove, or even what classes we shared, much less where the hell you live!"

"All this shit just proves that you don't observe people around you. You only care about yourself."

"If I only cared about myself, you'd have bled out last week."

He sighed playfully, resting his feet on your dashboard because he very evidently knew you would have a neurotic breakdown. "I, for one, know your age, the kind of car you drive, all the classes you have, plus your favourite colour and food."

"The first two are moot.", you replied, ignoring his silent mockery of the word 'moot'. "Next, you know I'm in all of Maddy's classes. And the rest you can find on my account. Account stalker."

"Account stalker. God, sweetheart, you're such a child. You don't want your account stalked, don't have a public one."

"I barely even post anything!"

"Oh, yeah, what about last month?"

He was looking at your profile last month? "I'd gone to France. It was a photo dump."

"It was unnecessary."

"Okay, you know what this is?"

He raised a brow.

"This is post-game audacity, is what I call it. You won. You're Mr. Big Shot, so you think you can just-"

And that's when Nate Jacobs kissed you.

To call it the worst fucking moment of your life would be a massive understatement. "Drive."

"You did not just fucking kiss me."

"You want me to do it again?"

"NO."

"Then drive."

This motherfucking bastard of a man!

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🏈⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

"You wanna come in?"

No way in hell were you going into Nate Jacobs' house. Especially when there was a party going strong.

"I'm good."

He rolled his eyes, his arm leaning on the top of the window as he leaned in. "I don't bite. Initially."

"Ooh, you don't bite initially, oh, please let me come in right now! Shut up and get in, Jacobs."

"You've earned the right to call me Nate. Congrats. Begin using it."

"Why? We're never talking after this."

He scoff-snickered. "Oh. OH, so that's how it is.", he nodded, amused.

"Yeah, yeah, that's how it is."

He guffawed, banging on the hood of your car. "This ain't funny anymore. Come in."

"What? No."

"Is there really only one way to ask you to do something?"

"No, Jacobs, don't you dar-"

But he didn't listen. When did he ever? His fingers emerged from his pocket with his knife in tow. NOT AGAIN. This was the most cunning, calculating, manipulative, Machiavellian-

"I'm cutting. This time, my wrist."

"You're so fucking dumb, y'know that? You're psychopathic."

The grin on his face showed that you were wrong. He wasn't offended. He was 100% getting off on it.

Drops of blood reached the floor, and you realized you couldn't just drive off and leave this guy here - he'd probably still be cutting just to prove a point.

"I hope you die.", you mumbled, getting out of your car and slamming the door.

"I'm trying, dude!", he laughed, pointing at his wrist. Oh, this sick bastard.

"Not dressing that wound?"

"C'mon, blood is sexy. Badass."

Nate Jacobs was about to see how 'badass' blood could really get.

And when you were done beating the everloving shit out of him, you kissed him. Because he deserved to know how infuriating that shit was, too.

The next day at school, it was normal. You didn't acknowledge him, and he didn't acknowledge you.He didn't seem to care about the fact that you hit him so hard he almost had a concussion. An average social media interaction. Good.

How it should be.

But then he texted you.

Fuck.

783 notes · View notes

vad-hander · 1 month ago

Text

YOU KNOW WE'RE NOT COMPATIBLE, RIGHT?

pairing: Haechan x reader

others: Mark, Jaemin, Jeno as Haechan's friends.

warnings: reader is mean and degrading towards Haechan throughout the fic (but nothing serious), mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of stealing, Haechan gets injured (breaks his leg, no graphic descriptions), explicit description of sexual interactions between Haechan and reader, unrequited love, reader has issues with showing her feelings, scared of other people's opinion, slowburn, romance

words: 8k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

“Aaa!Aaaah!“ You felt a death grip on your bicep, three steps inside that boat and you were man - or better say girl- handled into the corner next to the table with snacks. Eunsoo continued to scream into your ear as she tucked you away from everyone else. “Oh my god!“

“What? What?“ You panicked, did she somehow sneak on you and Haechan?

“I! Kissed! Jeno!“ She announced excitedly, hiding her mouth behind her palms, like you could see the evidence on her lips.

“Oh, wow.“ You laughed light-heartedly. You really wanted to ask how did that happen, when she was convincing you to come because Jeno wanted you-

“Did anything fun happen to you?“ She suddenly paused and then looked down on you. Oh, wow. Where did that question pop from.

“Huh?“ You giggled and grabbed her forearm. “You’re asking about my fun when you and Jeno finally ended being pining idiots and got it on? What? Did y’all only kiss? You were out of here for like… what? An hour?“ You tried to at least estimate for how long have you and Haechan been glued to each other. Has it been hopefully less… did you by any chance disappear for longer?

“I was here the whole time, you, though… What did you do outside?“ She smirked and ran her eyes over the people behind you. Like she was trying to find someone, like she was trying to find Haechan.

You were sure Pina Coladas and being horny played with your mind, no way Eunsoo played Sherlock Holmes now.

“Watched the moon, drank Pina Coladas.“ You trailed off carelessly, rolling your eyes slightly and coming up with things you could’ve possibly done there on your own.

“For real?“ Eunsoo dropped her excited face expression, making you believe in your acting abilities all of a sudden.

“Ugh.. yeah?“ You asked creasing your forehead in confusion.

“That’s… interesting.“ Eunsoo mirrored your face expression.

“Ya, anyway.“ You cut her off excited. “How did that happen? What did he say? That you’re the love of his life, I hope?“

“Ah- I actually kissed him first.“ She bit onto her lip obviously reminiscent.

“Okay?“ You gestured with your brows for her to continue.

“He said he thought I was in a relationship because YOU told Haechan once, your roommate had her boyfriend over, and you had to leave the house.“ She raised an accusatory brow.

“Oh shit.“ You gasped, remembering suddenly how you randomly pulled up at Haechan’s place with no excuse and had to make up shit on the spot.

“I can’t even guess why would you tell him something like that-.“ She cut her own self off. “Anyway, Jeno connected the dots and assumed I had someone. I just had to let him know I didn’t.“ She shrugged, brushing her own hair behind her ear.

“I’m sorry-.“ You pouted, you didn’t want to tell her you just randomly felt like spending time with Haechan on a random Thursday evening or whatever day it was.

“I had to run off, but we agreed on leaving together.“ she announced proudly, not even hearing your excuse.

“First time Jeno pl-“ you exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah, that-. Jeno lives with Jaemin, who will already bring someone, and Jeno feels awkward when Jaemin brings people, cause they’re always loud-“ she monotonously started to explain.

“Ew. Excessive info.“ you cringed.

“Yeah, so I was hoping you’d agree for Jeno to come to our place…?“ she gave you a hundred innocent blinks in a nanosecond.

“Dude!“ You gasped in pure shock, not a suggestion you expected “I’ll feel awkward too, huh.“

“Pretty please? I was in my room, when you brought Haechan, though.“ She smirked and your head spun. Not once did you fuck Haechan in your bed, not did once you made her go through that. Just ew.

“We did school on that couch, not sex!“ If that’s what she actually meant.

“And if I’ll promise we won’t do that, in case we will at all, anywhere but in my room?“ her hands connected in a pleading manner. “If you don’t want to be outside the door maybe you could have a sleepover…?“

“And where do you want me to sleep tonight?“ You cackled because you were happy for them to finally work it out, you weren’t happy they were trying to do it at your own expense.

“Ugh-.“ Eunsoo ran her eyes over the crowd, probably in search of Aeri or Sua, with the way her eyes widened and she waved, you were sure she finally spotted one of them. You turned around to see your friends, only being met with Haechan. He had his hair all wet and brushed back, you could guess he splashed his face with water. You checked out him head to toe, his body overall looking calm to your eye. You looked at him neutrally, turning to Eunsoo in full confusion.

“What are yo-“ you had to stop and contain yourself with a heavy breath. Haechan grabbed your waist from the back, not in a sensual manner, but more of I need an anchor manner, leaning over your shoulder to get closer to Eunsoo, like he couldn’t walk over you and stand directly next to her. You extended your neck so his face wouldn’t be this close to you, in case in Eunsoo’s eyes this looked even more weird than in yours.

“Haechan, hi.“ Eunsoo spoke so sweetly, like when she needed something, and you couldn’t even wonder what she possibly could need from the boy that currently fought with your fingers that were trying to get his off your waist. You ended up with your fingers trapped between your back and his front, caressed carefully over the back of your hand. “Me and my roomie are having a fight.“ She announced, side-eyeing you.

“It’s not a fight-.“ You sighed, having an actual fight behind your back.

“Yeah? I’m intrigued.“ he chuckled and turned to look at you, somehow ending up explicitly close to your face, despite your effort to move away. You were struggling to take breaths as his eyes blinked heavily, suddenly forgetting whatever giggly vibe he had, lowering his gaze onto your mouth.

“There’s a boy I like-, I want to bring him for movies! Movies!“ She exclaimed when you gave her a stare “And am asking her, kindly, to stay over at someone else’s.“

“Oh.“ Haechan smirked. “I’m sure you have options.“ satisfied grin adorning his face like he’s the happiest man on earth.

“No, I don’t. I only sleep in my own bed.“ You frowned. Even if you were losing control from his proximity, it wasn’t like you were about to eat his face off in front of Eunsoo. He really needed to stop with that face, god. You squeezed his fingers between yours to make him feel maybe a little bit of pain and move away. He was always so dramatic about minor hits and now you were putting the biggest effort to twist his fingers and the boy didn’t even bat an eye.

“You stayed over at Sua’s many times last year when she needed us!“ Oh right, Eunsoo was still here, outside your little bubble.

“This doesn’t count like at all-.“ it was a family matter, it’s not the same with wanting a boy between your legs, god. And the boy that seemed to really want to get between your legs found your waist with his free hand, leaning into your face more.

“Don’t be a bitch. Let your friend get some.“ Haechan’s shoulder bumped with yours from behind. “You have so many options for sleep over.“

“Ugh.“ You rolled your eyes, you hated him teasing you. Haechan very clearly was beaming with the idea he was the potential destination. “I’ll ask Sua, okay.“ You teased, he didn’t have to know you even considered his place.

“I’ll make sure she stays safe tonight.“ Haechan excused himself, pulled back from you, very tellingly grabbed your palm and led you off your friend without allowing you to tell her a word or two.

“Thanks, Haechan!“ Eunsoo shouted after you two.

Haechan walked confidently, forwarding from the girl and holding onto you tightly, still.

“Hey.“ You called out finally. “How do you know where Sua is?“ you wondered, dumbly assuming he was looking for the girl.

“I don’t.“ He shrugged.

“Where are we going then?“

“My bed.“ he said it casually, like nothing could be any more obvious than this.

“I never said I wanted that.“ You caught up to Haechan as the two of you were walking the ground again. To no surprise, Haechan ignored your words, looking very busy, turning and spinning his head. “Are you lost? Are you trying to get to your house by foot?“

“Huh? No.“ Haechan stopped and let go of you, quickly pressing the button on the front door to unlock the car.

“I’m not getting in a car with a drunk you-“ you protested.

“I haven’t had a sip of anything. I got here by car, why would I anyway.“ Haechan’s hands pressed against your waist, forwarding you towards the car.

“And why would you do that?“

“Had a feeling I’ll have someone very special to bring back with me.“ He smiled cooly at you, as his hands opened the door and invited you to the passenger seat.

“Still, I haven’t said I want to come with you.“ You took a step towards him and felt Haechan’s hand grab your palm and push you to him, only to intercept his hands and with an arm around your waist forcefully push you inside the car. You sat down with not much resistance, ready to buckle up, when Haechan leaned inside the car, forcing the belt carefully over your body and locking it into its slot. Haechan’s fingers smoothed the material over your chest, focusing his gaze on what his digits did.

“Starting from now on… if I asked you to stop being so hard to get, would you do it, for me?“

“If you asked nicely..?“ You smiled apologetically at him, Haechan’s head moving towards you at the same time yours did to him and with a little collapse of your noses in the middle of your way, you were still able to find his lips quickly, freezing in a moment with his mouth moving against yours with a lot of unspoken attraction. You bent your neck, sealing what he asked for with an unspoken promise that you’d do anything for him and his quiet thank you as he understood everything you told him.

“Need clothes or you’ll spare me effort and get in here naked?“ he shouted from his bedroom and you shivered at the idea of getting in his bed in this new unspoken status you had. Would it be different? You wanted everything to be different, but at the same time keep everything as it is because you really liked him like that.

“I’m not fucking you tonight.“ you let him know, once again, the same way you did in his car and in the lobby and in the elevator, and at the door of his place.

“Neither am I.“ he stroke you with a different answer and you actually had to walk into the room to see what made him change his mind.

“Yeah?“ You asked confused.

“Changed my mind last minute. A sleepover with the girl I like sounds even better.“ He cooed in a baby-girl manner, kissing your cheek sweetly, before moving his feet to the wardrobe. “Do you need pants? Or just a tee?“ His fingers ran over clothes that were neatly hung on hangers and even more neatly folded on the shelves. You tip-toed behind him in an outburst of feelings and in privacy of his room you suddenly felt overwhelmed at the idea you two confessed to each other your feelings, it felt so terribly foreign you had to make sure you didn’t make this stuff up, that you weren’t hallucinating off those Pina coladas. Your arms wrapped around Haechan’s torso from the back, burying your face between his shoulder blades. You could feel him puff a little bit of air out as he so confusedly, reached behind his back to touch your body and understand what you were doing.

“Baby love, are you still drunk on those cocktails?“ he chuckled with a very soft tone of his voice. Haechan’s fingers traced your arms, finally getting to your fingertips and you let him unlock them to entangle with his own.

“No, I’m just glad I can do this now.“

“Oh.“ he mouthed, trying to unwrap you from him.

“Can I hug you a little more?“ you murmured and felt actually drunk. Not on drinks, on Haechan, who seemed to be the main intoxication of the evening.

“But I really want to hug you too.“ He whined.

“Okay.“ you loosened your grip and in a second Haechan turned around, flashing you against him, your face now hiding in his neck and he was so right to ask for that because it felt so good to be in this cocoon of his love. You hugged his waist once again, his face rubbing affectionately against your neck. It felt so soothing, right until the moment his lips started to pepper little kisses and tickle your entire being.

“Aren’t human brains crazy?“ he spoke suddenly, making his way up your throat.

“Mmh?“

“Isn’t it crazy, that we like each other so much, but wouldn’t tell anything for months?“ his palms smoothed your hair back like you were a cat.

“Ah, should I say it wasn’t that long for me or should I agree?“ you smiled, rubbing your palm over Haechan’s cheek.

“I know it’s hard for you to show me your vulnerable side. I appreciate you even more, because you work really hard to show it to me at times.“ his fingers squeezed your head in a funny manner that you guessed was supposed to show his affection.

“Mmh.“ You nodded and leaned in to press your lips against his. Haechan quickly caught up to you, moving his mouth in unison with yours, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. Your hands sneaked behind his clothing, stroking his bare back, sides and stomach. Haechan grabbed your shoulders, turning you to press against the wardrobe he earlier tried to find clothes in. “What are you doing?“ you smirked, moving your hands to the apples of his cheeks. Haechan’s fingers laced with yours, forcing your hands off him.

“We’re not changing our minds, are we?“ he squeezed your fingers in his.

“We aren’t, but kissing is not fucking, so why’re we asking?“ You tried to catch up with his mouth once again. Being deprived of such a privilege for months of stubbornness, you’d like to get your fill of him as fully as possible. You’d hug and kiss him all night long if he’d let you.

“Go take the shower first, I’ll wait for you here.“ Haechan ran his fingers through your nape, tangled up in your hair and kissed your lips in a quick lick. “Take whatever clothes you need.“ his hand patted the wardrobe door and he walked back, dropping on his bed face down.

“Heeey.“ Haechan cooed above your ear at the sight of you cocooned in his bed sheets, eyes closed as you were very slowly dozing off.

“Hm?“ you blinked nonchalantly at him, holding back a stretch. You were trying to act innocent, it was way past your bedtime, it was cozy, quiet and dark and Haechan took ten million years in that shower. You had no other choice but to fall asleep. “What took you so long, huh?“

“I was there for no longer than 15 minutes. Not my fault you fall asleep quickly.“ Haechan pecked your cheek and rolled over you to the other side of the bed. “Good night, I guess?“ he mumbled in obvious pout, you could sense it even with your back. “Sweet dreams.“ His fingers patted your bum through the duvet. You had to turn around and see him for yourself. Even in the darkness of the room you could see him laying in the farthest corner of the bed from you, forcing a chuckle out of you that you tried to swallow resulting in a sound that sounded like you were choking.

“So you take me all the way to your bed, for us to sleep on totally different sides of it?“ You crawled over to him and Haechan turned on his side, you guessed to see you better.

“I’m just trying to be considerate of your feelings.“ He continued to talk in a pout, like he was very hurt by you falling asleep.

“Suddenly?“ Your fingers patted his pouted lips.

“I always have.“ He pointed the obvious, you just wanted to tease him a little.

“You have, you’re right.“ Haechan grabbed your fingers, trapping your hand in his, to move it away from his mouth. “I wonder though, what would you do, if you didn’t?“ Aren’t you the most cuddly, touchy-handsy person ever? I was fantasising how I wouldn’t be able to sleep because you holding me in your sleep would make my heart pound like crazy through the whole night. You wanted to say that too, but didn’t want to show your cards yet.

“I’d hug and kiss you all night long.“ he chuckled at the admittance. His own palm intertwined with yours covered his face.

“I bet I’d love that.“ You whispered distantly.

“Yeah, sure-“ somehow Haechan took this as sarcasm.

“No, I’m sure I’d love that.“ You repeated more confidently. Haechan stopped the chuckling and very swiftly pulled your body to his side of the bed by the arm that was his prisoner previously.

Haechan’s arms like tentacles wrapped over your body, forcing your hands around his neck. He moved so expertly, you wanted to tease and ask how many people he hugged in that bed before you. His thigh wrapped around your legs, giving you satisfying pressure of his body on yours and leaving you with no chance to move any of your limbs at all.

“Do you hate it?“ Haechan’s very hot breath on your neck made your heart tingle.

“No.“ you almost said you love it. “You know, they say it’s better to sleep under a weight. I guess body weight counts.“ Your fingers traced his nape, you tried very hard to stay up for him.

“I can’t believe tomorrow I’ll wake up and you’ll still be here.“ The sigh that left his throat made your head go dizzy. It’s like he couldn’t breathe properly before and now that the idea of you not leaving him at night was settled, he was breathing full-chest again.

“Not like I could get from under you unnoticed.“ you chuckled, not getting any reaction from Haechan. You had to add on top of that, you were too worried his feelings might’ve gotten hurt by what you said you couldn’t fall asleep anymore. “Not like I would ever want to voluntarily leave your hugs.“

“Good night, baby love.“ Haechan kissed your shoulder blade affectionately.

A slap on your butt and you jumped in place, first feelings in your body being frustration and distress. A soft tap afterwards and all blood outflowed from your face for a reason. Aeri stood right in front of you on the other side of crosswalk and she had to be either blind or too preoccupied with her phone to not notice how Haechan’s hand landed right on your hip now.

“Hi, pretty.“ Haechan mouthed as your face turned in his direction. He smiled sweetly and it could’ve been a sweet greeting on your side too, but the traffic light turned green and the girl started walking in your direction. You grabbed his wrist, to force it off you and pressed it against his own stomach with a little tap of your fingers.

“Hold it in, please. She doesn’t know.“ Haechan mouthed an o as he acknowledged Aeri approaching.

“He…llo?“ Aeri immediately questioned and you weren’t surprised. She was so uptight with Haechan it didn’t sit with you how someone could really hate someones guts to that extent. You used to hate him for how annoying and teasing he was, but it wasn’t to the point you could feel sickness in your throat with disgust and it kinda looked like Aeri just felt that - swallowing thickly the letters on her tongue.

The girl grabbed your forearm and pulled you towards the building, ignoring the boy you liked completely. Haechan wasn’t the one to be flustered or taken aback. You don’t even think he felt sad with that behaviour, but you felt like you did so on his behalf. It’s been a little over a week since your confessions in mutual attraction and the very rare 3 times he tried to slide himself into your friend group didn’t go well. You cleared your throat, trying to fit in a word in Aeri’s non-stop blabbering. You could see Haechan following right behind you with his shade on the asphalt, reaching out blindly to his shoulder, forcing him to walk in one line with you two.

“Haechan’s here too. He bumped into me on the way, right?“ You shoot him a glance.

“Yeah, bumped.“ he cackled “On accident, with my hand.“ He widened his eyes, lifting the very hand he slapped you with, giving you an amused wink afterwards. You couldn’t hold back the eye roll. “Do you two always meet on that crosswalk?“ he tried to make small talk and your head turned to see Aeri’s reaction. Her eyes were set on her smartphone.

“Huh?“ She asked confused as your elbow hit her ribs lightly. Her eyes ran between you two and Haechan repeated himself in exactly the same wording. “No, I had an appointment and made it a little too early to class.“

“I think we’re going to be there just in time.“ You chuckled.

“Yeah, exactly.“ The girl nodded and re-linked her arm into yours. “I don’t see a point in coming too early. Everyone should be at least seated when I come.“

“Gotcha.“ Haechan’s head bobbed in confusion and his eyes questioned you, instead of your friend. “I didn’t know being fashionably late to classes was a thing.“

“It is. What’s the point in waiting for professors? If I’m 10 minutes late it’s never even properly started.“

“I could only wonder what things are more important in your life than being on time at school.“ He chuckled not offensively, just because he couldn’t understand her point of view even though he never stroke you as someone that loved to follow rules. You would tell him she just couldn’t wake up and get ready on time. Like, crazily never on time type of person, but she seemed to not want to give him that information.

“So you’re never late?“ She sounded accusatory, your head going from one side to the other, while you tried to read both their emotions and deescalate the small talk at the right time.

“If I feel like I’m going to be late, I just get into my car and drive here. In other instances I walk, so no, I’m never late.“

“Yeah, sure. Cut the crap, dude.“ Aeri rolled her eyes. “You literally overslept your project presentation day.“ Yeah, right. You remembered not telling your friends anything about that when he told you the truth. Just a shrug of your shoulders when they assumed he slept in.

“I-“ he looked confused at the girl. “I didn’t, I had to deal with personal matters, FYI.“

“Of course. That’s what everyone says when they miss school after a party.“

“Sure.“ Haechan agreed sweetly and you were thankful. You guessed he was in a very good mood this morning. Not to lie into anyones face, you were walking on cloud 9 on your way to meet Aeri, replaying in your head Haechan’s sweet voice and words from last nights phone call. Is it too weird if I’m going to say that the past week’s been probably one of the happiest in my life? It wasn’t weird, you would tell him you were pretty much the same if you had the courage to be as open about everything with him. Having him on the phone before sleep felt so sweet and classy. It would only be better if he was right next to you, but for some reason he didn’t want you two jump back into that. “What is your first class?“

“Marketing in bulding 5.“ Aeri sighed.

“Mine’s in building 2.“ You sighed too, as the three of you walked through the campus.

“Cool, mine’s in building 2 too.“ Haechan quickly replied, grabbing onto your wrist. “Let’s hurry to make it on time.“ He smiled politely at Aeri and walked off, forcing you to follow behind.

“Bye, see you for lunch.“ You waved Aeri off, and the girl waved back confused, turning away. “Isn’t your first class in building 6? Last night you sai-“ you moved your attention to the boy that pulled you behind him.

“She walked away?“ He asked, slowing down a little.

“Yeah.“ You gave him a nod and Haechan’s eyes focused on you. You stopped, expecting an answer, building 2 and 6 were on completely different sides of the campus. Haechan lowered his gaze onto his fingers on your wrist, chewing on his lower lip in a thought process. His fingers crawled down to your palm, quickly running his fingers through yours. Before you could make any sound his hand guided both yours into his bomber jacket’s pocket.

“I’m going to walk you first. If I’m going to be fashionably late to my class, no one’s going to die.“ You chuckled, squeezing his palm in yours. Haechan nodded slightly and returned to walking, his thumb stroking you on the way.

“You know, how I don’t really feel like PDA…“ you started softly.

“Exactly why your hand’s sweating in my pocket now and not freely hang in the fresh air.“

“It’s not sweating.“ You protested with a chuckle. You honestly could agree with him, it was a little warm inside that pocket.

“It is, a little, just agree with me.“ He stated matter-of-factly. And you couldn’t hold back a smile. Gosh, what a stupid I’m-so-in-love-with-this-boy grin you must be having right now.

“Anyway, don’t randomly slap me like that. First of all, I could’ve hit you. Second of all, what if Aeri saw this?“

“I think you kinda messed up the order of the reasons?“ He teased and you tried to pull your hand out of his hold in return. “Even if she saw that, what would she say? Oh my god my friend hooks up with this crazily attractive, funny, smart and all-you-could-ever-want guy? I mean, jealousy, yes, I’d feel that too.“

“Haechan, I’m serious.“ You pouted.

“I heard you, I got you. Want to go on a date tonight?“ He said in one breathe, you took a second to distinguish his words, right after giving him an excited nod. Haechan smirked at you, as you jumped in place slightly. Before you could process your moves, your other hand reached to his waist and you gave him a hug. Haechan’s free hand returned the gesture, pressing your body more tightly against his. “Okay, right after school or later at night?“

“Night, I think.“ You pushed yourself off him quickly, like nothing at all happened.

“Okay, with no intention to stay over?“

“With the very intention, but I can’t and will have to go back home.“ you couldn’t hold back sulking in your voice.

“I’ll cover for you.“ He smirked.

“Yeah, sure.“

“Just tell Eunsoo the truth, I guarantee you she’ll happily send you off on your merry way.“ You didn’t doubt your roomy, you very insecure in your own self. Not in a way you weren’t sure you liked Haechan - that thought very firmly sat in your head by now, you weren’t really yet there to let the whole world know about it and as much as you wanted to always stay true and honest to him you couldn’t just say that out loud. Haechan was so free and calm in that sense, you wouldn’t be surprised the whole world would’ve known without having an idea who you two were. The only reason he held back was how reserved you were. And he saw you being just that - he gave you time to adjust and open up to him more and eventually, open to people around you. But really, it wasn’t the time nor the place to get deep in your thoughts and you blinked at him.

“You don’t know her.“ You nodded and Haechan stared at you funny. Does he… know her? Through Jeno, maybe. Not in a I’ve-been-sharing-pads-and-bras-with-the-girl-for-the-past-few-years kind of way and that technically meant he knew nothing.

“Of course.“ he stretched out his lips in a grin. You weren’t sure if his mind was still on Eunsoo or on the fact you stood closely to him after the hug and his head moved closer to yours by a millimetre a second.

“Didn’t I tell you to slow down on PDA, my friend.“ You giggled, trying to sound scolding, as your hand caught his head, hooking your thumb over his ear, as he went fully in to kiss you.

“Just a goodbye kiss.“ Haechan half-whispered, his hand finding its place on your waist. You had to give in since the feeling made goosebumps run down your side. Before he could even decipher what’s about to happen you pecked the corner of his mouth and took a paced step back.

“Bye-bye.“ You waved at him, having to actually run backwards as Hyuck took a step towards you. When he lifted his foot to try once more you went for the same move backwards and he went through multiple feelings in a second, rolling his eyes backwards as his hand went down his face, biting down on his lip and chuckling to himself. You waved him off with a smile, only to be met with a scolding pointing finger of his as he walked away.

“Later. You’ll regret all this a little later.“ He nodded to himself, finally walking away.

Oh boy, were you hoping he’ll make those words come true.

You were strolling through the alley at the Yeouido side of the Hangang park. You would’ve loved to go down to the river and touch the water maybe, but Haechan cried for at least five minutes how it was still hard for him to take a set of stairs and you would’ve had to carry him back on your back, if you’d convince him to go down to the embankment.

You really didn’t mind though, not with the way Haechan’s thumb was caressing your thumb with every step he took.

“I really hope that cherry blossoms didn’t all fall to the ground yet.“ you broke off the silence. It really wasn’t that late, but there wasn’t a single passer by on your way, except for a dog owner that crossed the road on the opposite side of it like 10 minutes ago. There were only half-empty busses, that brought some sort of sound into the scenery. You couldn’t love this district more - right next to National Assembly was your favourite spot to think and to enjoy loneliness, except for now you weren’t alone.

“We should’ve went to that park with the waterfall I told you about. And during the day.“ he tried to sound nagging, but he really failed with the way his lips quirked up at you.

“Shh. It’s the best place I promise.“ you squeezed his fingers in yours. “The Cherry Blossom alley starts right after the crosswalk.“ You announce excited, stepping in front of him, to grab his full attention, your other hand lacing through his fingers as well.

“Are you going to walk backwards?“ he asks amused.

“Yup. Focus on me.“ you really wanted to say it casually, but couldn’t resist smiling at his lovey-dovey stare. You took a step and then one more backwards, scrutinising yourself for making that decision, it really wasn’t that convenient to walk backwards on such flooring. Haechan somehow could sense you’re about to trip over your feet, as his hand lands on your waist right in time. Now you looked like you were dancing under the streetlight, with your hand landing on Haechan’s bicep, taking steps deeper into the alley. You had to force your eyes off Haechan’s intense stare for a moment, just to make sure a cherry tree was above you. It was. Still perfectly blossomed, and perfectly pink, illuminated by the street light. “Look up.“ You announce and raise your eyes back up first. The view of blossoming cherry was pretty, no matter how many years you spent staring at it - you couldn’t get enough of it and Haechan’s warmth was making the feeling even better. It felt so nice to stand there in comforting quietness with someone you liked so much. Actually, it was a little too quiet from his side. Did he… not like it? Your eyes fell back to the boy that held tightly onto your waist. The intensity of his stare forced you to swallow, it seemed like he didn’t move his eyes once off your face. “Will you?“ your eyes signalling up, only your mouth moving, but with the way Haechan’s gaze pierced through you, you’re sure he was able to read your lips.

“I’m in love with you.“ he whispered calmly.

“Haec-“ you were cut off with his heart-shaped lips. He paced his mouth against yours, you didn’t expect him to be so fierce out here at the cherry blossom alley. You let go of his shoulder, taking in your hand his pretty face. Haechan’s body was burning, you could feel him on fire as you snugged your body more against his. He wasn’t burning because he was sexually affected, no, it really didn’t seem like it. It was a different kind of warmth. It felt like he was burning inside from his feelings, he was overwhelmed with his feelings towards you and it made you feel totally overwhelmed because you couldn’t understand. How, just how. “How would you know that?“ You had to voice it to him, because it felt like you were hanging on a cloud.

“What do you mean?“ he chuckled, tucking your head under his chin.

“How do you know you’re in love.“ You state dumbly.

“Because it crossed my mind that cherry blossoms would never compare to you in prettiness.“

“Hm?“

“If I’ll want to look at something pretty, I would just call you. You’re the prettiest to me.“ You wanted to tell him something, anything at all, but all words got stuck in your throat. “That’s why I know, and because just thinking of you brings me joy and comfort I’ve never experienced before.“

“I’m so sorry.“ you sigh into his chest, squeezing your eyes shut in sorry.

“Why?“ Haechan immediately worries, you could tell not only by his voice, but by the way his body stiffened in your hold.

“It’s hard for me to say it like that, to word these things to you in the same way. But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel the same way. As we walked here I was thinking how it felt nice to be in my favourite spot in the city with my… favourite man in the whole city of Seoul.“ you gulped and tried to catch a glimpse of his face expression, but Haechan pulled you in a tighter hug. “I would just love to stand here with you and have your body press against mine all day and all night. For weeks, months and eternity, because you bring me comfort.“ Haechan almost squeezed the life out of you, taking a couple steps to the side of the alley, to rest his bum against fencing.

“Okay, let’s stay like this forever.“ He whispered into your shoulder and falling silent, you closed your eyes in utter cosiness, your fingers thoughtlessly running over his nape. Little waves of wind forced already bloomed cherry blossoms to fall onto your head and shoulders, but you couldn’t be less bothered to react to it.

“But just how introverted you have to be, for your favourite spot in the city to be this human-less corner next to the Assembley, baby love.“ Haechan broke off the silence maybe after eternity, maybe a minute, you couldn’t decipher how much time passed in that comforting drowsiness. He chuckled and rubbed your back for reaction.

“Yeouido is the busiest during daytime, come on.“ You protested quickly, bumping your fist with his shoulder. “Anyway, I’m not deeply introverted, I have friends, I’m just shy with strangers.“

“Me too.“ he smiled.

“You really aren’t, come on.“

“No, I’m for real. I get all flabbergasted and unable to put two words in a sentence. It happens when I’m forced to present in front of people or get in a company with many strangers.“

“Wait-“ wheels in your head moved fast. “So what was the real reason when you didn’t show up at the presentation of our project?“ You weren’t mad, you liked him a disgusting amount, if he told you he didn’t come because he was scared to present, you would’ve kissed him and giggled at how cute he was.

“No.“ Haechan said confused, before his brain connected the dots. “No!“ he protested loudly, finally getting what you implied on. “No, I would’ve fought my fear of strangers for you. It really is just an accident-.“ you reached to his lips for a quick peck. A thank you, for saying he cares, for making you believe he cares with the way he talks and blinks and breathes. “I’m not going to lie, a very lucky coincidence, but still.“ Haechan rubbed your cheek affectionally “Actually, I never said it properly, I’m so sorry I left you alone that day. I was in agony before the trial began, and then they forced me to leave my phone at the entrance of court room. I was only able to reply an hour later and it didn’t seem like good timing and you ran to my place all mad and instead of saying the truth I decided to get on your nerves.“

“I was hoping you’d walk out after me when I stomped out of your place and bring me back to you.“ You admitted, your finger drawing lines on his shoulder.

“Fuck.“ Haechan reached to kiss you, but you felt only the ghost of his lips, as he pulled back. “I thought you hated my guts and I lost you forever.“

“And I hated your guts and stood behind your door for 10 minutes in hopes you’d kiss me apologising in your bed.“

“Fuck.“

“Yeah, that would do, too.“ you smart, getting an annoyed snicker off his lips.

“Stupidly plain humour, that’s one more reason I know I love you.“

“I love you.“ you murmur against the skin of Haechan’s cheek. Very shyly, but it feels so appropriate to let him know those feelings are very much reciprocal.

“What?“ he pushes his nose against your cheek, in a blunt manner to tease you.

“Ugh.“ Your eyes rolled, he could’ve not ruined the moment for you to repeat it louder. But oops, the moment fleeted.

“One more I love you and I’m taking you straight to the registration office.“

“Shut up.“ You punch his chest and take a step back. Haechan’s arms slide down your bum, you ignoring his gesture. Your eyes focused on cherry blossoms that landed in the hood of his hoody, multiple of those. Your fingers picked up one, twirling it in your fingers. “You know that its good luck to eat the cherry blossom that fell on you?“

“Yeah.“ Haechan nodded almost immediately. Confusion almost made you give away your lie. There wasn’t such thing, at least you never heard of anything like that, you just wanted to joke with him. Well, if he says he heard of it, then.

“Open your mouth then, prosperity, eternal luck, happiness and love await you on the other side of the chewing process.“ You twirled the blossom in front of his face, expecting a reaction, but Haechan plainly opened his mouth. Okay, not a reaction you expected.

“Aaah.“ He even voiced his wish to get it over with quickly. Well obviously, he wouldn’t die from a blossom in his system, you put tens of these in your mouth every year, trying to take a pretty pick and failing each year, but somehow you still malfunctioned.

“Did you really hear of such a thing?“ You creased your forehead in confusion.

“No, plain humour, didn’t I just say. I wanted to see where you’d lead it.“

“I would’ve led it in your mouth.“

“Sounds kinda funny, if you take it out of context.“ You squirmed and cringed.

“Ew.“ Haechan took the blossom from your hold and put it in his pocket. “What will you do with it?“

“Look.“ Haechan ignored your question, grabbing your fingertips with his long digits. His eyes trained on his hold and you lowered your eyes to it too.

“What is it?“ You asked confused.

“We’ve been doing a lot of things for a little while.“ He started slowly, flexing his fingers over yours.

“Mmh.“ there was nothing else to do but agree.

“We’ve been doing even more things for a long while.“

“Right.“ Your eyes caught Haechan’s stare, that he now moved to your face.

“We never talked about anything. You never asked why I asked you to sleep with me, you never told me why the hell did you even agree to that stupid idea.“ He snorted in an attempt to contain his laugh. “We did different things and hurt each other and now we’re here holding hands on a cherry blossom alley. I know you don’t like to talk about what you’re feeling much, but I do and I really need to talk to you about it all or I’ll go crazy.“

“I get it.“ You squeezed Haechan’s fingers in support, giving him a little nod. At least one person in this relationship didn’t have problems with voicing out his feelings, you smiled at him. “You can tell me anything. I’ll- well, I’ll try my best to do the same.“

“I really like you.“ Haechan sighed, heaved with feelings. It almost felt like he was about to burst with the way his eyes were glistening. You chuckled, not in a mean way.

“I know, I do really like you too.“ You let go of his fingers to cup his cheek and coo at how sweetly he was looking at you.

“I liked you since the first time I took you to my place. The first time when we talked and you were hella drunk and I was too and I thought I wanted to kiss you even before I knew your name properly. And then we somehow ended up in my bed and I thought that we can lead this somewhere. But you ran away the moment I dozed off, and then that other time and the other. And all those times.“

“You should’ve said something-“

“I couldn’t, not when you were making that discussed face expression when you were sober, when you were seeing me at school. I couldn’t risk at least getting this much of you taken away from me.“

“I’m sorry.“

“No but it’s not like I’m asking for pity.“

“I know.“ You nodded and caressed his bicep reassuringly. “I would’ve never guessed you liked me. You acted like you wanted to sleep with someone and I was a chosen option. I never even thought we could be anything like that up until that boat thing.“

“You liked me only back then?“ Haechan exclaimed scandalised.

“Well-.“ You smiled. “Yeah. I didn’t have a thought like that before you dropped your head on my lap and after you did… I couldn’t stop thinking how fucking attractive you are.“

“I’m hurt.“ He pouted too playful for you to believe him.

“Why?“

“I thought okay, you didn’t like me maybe after our first or second time, because you were wasted and all that. But when you got to my place to spend the time together for whatever reason, didn’t you-.“ he paused and grimaced confusion. “I thought you liked me and that’s why you came.“

“I don’t think that was the reason. I’m sorry.“ Both your hands landed on Haechan’s cheeks, caressing his hurt expression, opting for a peck when it didn’t work out on him.

“Not even a little bit?“

“The tiniest bit? Like under nine locks deep down in my heart bit?“

“Okay, I’ll take that. Anyway, I liked you for a very long time. Just wanted you to know that. Wanna have a giggle?"

"Mmh?" You were expecting literally anything fall off his lips, you couldn’t wrap your head around this boy before your eyes turned into a very sweet mush because he was in love… with you.

"I think the fact you were telling shit about me kind of made me fall harder for you." Okay, maybe you weren’t prepared for literally anything to fall off his lips. " Jaemin said once he thinks I have a degrading kink and I told him to fuck himself, but kind of being with you made me question if he’s somehow… right?" You scoffed flabbergasted at his words.

"Should I… continue, then… being mean to you?" You giggled, intertwining your fingers with Haechan’s.

"At certain point I started to feel like I never was enough, I was getting confused." You squeezed his fingers with yours.

"I’m sorry."

"I’m just glad we worked this all out. If I say it honestly, you’re partially a bitch and I’m a fan of those parts of you, but…"

"Shut up." You cooed "You’re so cheesy I can’t believe people take you as a bad boy."

"Who does?" Haechan chuckled in pure disbelief.

"My friends, they say you’re a bad guy. That’s why I try to keep us lowkey."

"Maybe they’re just jealous huh? I am very much every girls’ dream." he made his palms go under the chin, to look all cutesy.

"You are very much right, I’m sure of it."

137 notes · View notes

lefteagleblizzard · 2 months ago

Text

𝔙𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔶 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱

Mike munroe x male reader

A request that I received from a really nice person here on tumblr: a small idea I liked for a fic if you like the idea as well. Nothing too big, just a fic about Reader and Chris being brothers and constantly nagging each other about their crushes on Ashley and Mike.

I expanded the request a bit, sorry if I went overboard with it. Hope you enjoyed it.

Tags: set before the event of the game. Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Chris and the reader are brothers. Some very quick shifts of pov between characters. Jealousy. Mike and Jess/ Emily are not together in this. Friends to lovers. Mike is a flirt.

Words count: 4000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔥

𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢'𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔪

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥 Part 2 of it

For anyone interested, I took inspiration from this clue that you can find while playing as Chris.

The music thumps in the background, a mix of bass-heavy beats and voices blending into a dull roar. You and Chris sit at a small, round table near the back, well out of the action but with a good view of everyone mingling.

"So," Chris says, taking a long, dramatic sip. "You actually spent the whole night staring at Mike. Dude, seriously, you're lucky your eyes didn't burn a hole in the back of his head."

You scoff, leaning back in your chair with a mock sigh. "Like you're any better. When are you actually gonna talk to Ashley? She's cool, she's cute, she's well, out of your league but hey, a guy can dream.”

"Hey, I do talk to her," Chris retorts, feigning offense.

"Uh-huh," you say, raising an eyebrow. "It’s a lot if you can manage to squeak out a sentence before turning red.”

Chris chuckles, crossing his arms. "Fine. Why don't you go up to Mike and tell him what you think? 'Hey, by the way, I've been thinking about how perfect your jawline is all night!’ I'm sure that'll go over great." He did a horrible interpretation of your voice to mock you even further.

You roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks flush just a bit. "First of all, I would never phrase it like that. And second, at least I actually know things about him beyond his favorite book."

"Oh, really? Let's see who knows more about their crush. No cheating. No wimping out. Winner gets bragging rights." Chris leans forward, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Bragging rights? How about you admit I'm objectively hotter than you when I win?" you echoed, folding your arms.

"Sure. Whatever fantasy helps you sleep at night," Chris said, grinning as he dramatically cracked his knuckles. “I'll go first since I know you're just dying to hear all the juicy Ashley knowledge."

You chuckle. "Go with your in-depth research, Sherlock."

Chris clears his throat, sitting up straighter. "Fine. For starters, her favorite color is purple."

You make a face, unimpressed. "That's it? You think knowing her favorite color makes you the expert here?"

"Let me finish, smartass. She loves thriller movies. She also has this little habit of chewing on her nails when she's nervous."

You raise an eyebrow, genuinely impressed but unwilling to give him the satisfaction. "Okay, okay, not bad. But that's kid stuff. Let me show you how it's done."

Chris rolls his eyes, clearly not expecting much. "Alright, hotshot. Give me your best Mike trivia."

You sit forward, lowering your voice like you're letting him in on a secret. You have always been good at noticing things. Maybe it was a result of growing up with Chris and when it came to Mike Munroe, your crush, the small things were more than just interesting, they were revealing.

For one, every morning, without fail, he was up before the sun. He’d go for a quick run to stay in shape. You’d always catch glimpses of him at college heading back to his room in a tank top, earbuds in, eyes focused ahead and glimpses of sweat on his forehead.

He had this tough, confident exterior. He wasn’t loud like some of the others in the group. He had a way of using humor to deflect, to keep people from getting too close. You saw it when he’d brush off any talk about specific topics.

And then there were his tastes.

He likes his coffee black. Pretends it's macho. He had a surprising amount of nostalgia in his preferences. You couldn’t forget the time you’ve talked together casually on the lodge, his face lighting up as he talked about his love for old action movies.

Chris raises an eyebrow. "Alright. Maybe you’re better equipped than me. But, let's be real, you wouldn't even know where to start."

"Better than starting with nothing," you counter. "Besides, I could charm him if I wanted to."

Chris raises an eyebrow. "What would you even say?"

You grin, leaning in like you're revealing a grand plan. "I'd just walk up and ask him about his football season. Mention that time he scored the winning touchdown. You instead are hopeless"

Chris nods, pretending to take you seriously. "Oh, sure, because that'll definitely make him swoon. Hopeless? Me?" Chris laughs, leaning back with a smirk. "At least I don't have to worry about being mistaken for a stalker."

You both burst into laughter. For all the banter, you know neither of you would really judge the other for these harmless crushes. It's what makes the night so much fun.

From across the room, you caught sight of Ashley standing awkwardly near a table stacked with half-empty snack bowls and crumpled napkins. She shifted from foot to foot, clearly trying to blend into the background.

"Hey, Romeo. This is your chance," you said, leaning closer and nudging Chris with your elbow.

Chris snapped out of his trance, his head swiveling toward Ashley. His brows furrowed slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in amusement before settling back into a more thoughtful expression.

Chris groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "What am I supposed to do? Walk up and make everything even more embarrassing?"

"News flash: she knows you're a loser," but she clearly likes you anyway. Stop overthinking it. Just go talk to her. Be romantic for once. She loves that whole 'awkward and sincere' thing you've got going on."

"First of all," Chris said, pointing a finger at you, "I'm not awkward. I'm, uh, charmingly self-aware. Second, what if I say something dumb? Or worse, nothing at all? I can't just walk up to her and-"

"You're a coward," you interrupted, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

"Yep," he said, popping the "p" and lifting his cup in mock toast.

You were scanning the room until your gaze landed on Mike Munroe.

He was leaning casually against the wall, drink in hand, chatting with a girl you vaguely recognized from English class. His tuxedo fit him perfectly, tailored in all the right places, the dark fabric catching the light just enough to highlight his athletic build. The black foulard tied loosely around his neck was an elegant touch, a little different from the usual bow ties and neckties most guys wore. His hair was perfectly tousled, like he hadn't even tried but still managed to look effortlessly handsome.

You felt your chest tighten. For a moment, your imagination betrayed you, painting a picture of Mike turning toward you, smiling like he did when he told one of his dumb jokes when he got elected class president. You could almost hear his laugh, warm and inviting, as if it were just for you. But reality snapped back into focus when the girl he was talking to leaned closer.

"Mike would never look twice at me like that." You mumble more to yourself without thinking, unable to keep the disappointment from your voice.

Chris, placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was light but reassuring. "Don't do that to yourself. You're a catch. If Mike doesn't see that, he's an idiot."

You looked up at him, grateful but unconvinced. Chris stood up, brushing imaginary lint off his jacket. "I'm getting us drinks. Let's make it through the rest of this night together, yeah?"

You nodded, watching as he made his way to the bar. You glance around, your gaze landing once more on Ashley and an idea strikes you. Chris is now far away from your position. It’s your chance to do something.

You stride over to her, flashing a friendly smile, keeping your movements casual so you wouldn't startle her. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed you, but she relaxed as you softly took her arm.

"Hey," you said, grinning playfully as you gently guided her away from the corner.

Ashley laughed, the sound light and genuine. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement but no resistance as you led her toward your table.

"Come on, you can't let Chris and I have all the fun sitting in the corner judging everyone." you replied, glancing over your shoulder with a mock-serious expression.

"That's what you two have been doing all night? Very productive." She scanned the place as you reached the table and she managed to spot Chris at the bar, meticulously mixing something with an unusual level of focus. But then her gaze shifted, catching Mike watching the two of you.

Jaw set, lips pressed into a firm line, eyes tracked the way you gently tugged Ashley along. His gaze lingered on your hand before flicking back up to your face. Lips pressed together in a faint, almost imperceptible scowl, as though something about the sight of the two of you together unsettled him. There was a slight tension in his posture, the way his shoulders seemed just a bit too stiff for someone casually enjoying a party.

Chris returned with two drinks in hand. "Okay, I've done it," he announced dramatically. "The ultimate drink. If you don't like it, I'm never speaking to you ag-" He cut himself off mid-sentence when he saw Ashley sitting at the table, smiling up at him.

"I... uh..." Chris stammered, turning an impressive shade of pink.

"You made this for me?” Ashley asked sweetly, taking the drink from his hand before he could respond. “Thank you, Mr. Bartender."

Chris blinks and he lets out a nervous laugh, giving you a quick glare as he hands the drink to Ashley.

She giggles, taking a sip and you watch as Chris visibly relaxes. They share a smile and there's a warm, unspoken understanding between them, a quiet moment that you can't help but feel a bit envious of.

The music shifts, slowing into a softer, more romantic melody. Couples move onto the dance floor, swaying together in a slow embrace. Ashley’s eyes light up as she turns to Chris, her cheeks flushed with a faint rosy tint from the slight inebriation she feels. "Come on, Chris," she says, tugging at his hand. "Want to go there for a bit?"

Chris's eyes dart to you, searching your face for reassurance, his expression almost apologetic. He's asking, without words, if you'll be okay.

You manage a smile, giving him a nod.

Chris lets out a laugh, his tension melting away as he lets Ashley pull him onto the dance floor. They disappear into the crowd, leaving you alone at the table. You watch them go, feeling a bittersweet pang in your chest as you take in the sight of them together, laughing and smiling, fitting together so effortlessly. Chris fumbling his way through the first few steps before finding his rhythm.

They looked so happy.

And you were here instead, alone at the table, your thoughts inevitably drifting back to Mike.

Chris feels his heart race as he stands on the dance floor, his hands resting lightly on Ashley's waist, her arms draped over his shoulders as they sway to the gentle rhythm of the music. Her gaze meets his every so often, a smile warm and genuine, making him feel like the only person in the room.

"I didn't know you had these moves." she teases, her eyes twinkling.

Chris chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh, trust me, I don't. I'm just doing my best not to crush your toes."

Ashley laughs, her grip tightening on his shoulders as she rolls her eyes. "You're doing just fine. I don't mind if you, you know, relax a little."

"Relax? Yeah, I can... I can do that," he says, voice faltering as he tries to ease into the rhythm, matching her movements as the song continues.

His focus wavers after a while, gaze drifting over her shoulder as he catches sight of his brother sitting across the room at one of the tables with Matt nearby.

There's something off about the way you're holding yourself. You're smiling, sure, even laughing at something Matt is saying, but Chris can tell that the smile doesn't quite reach your eyes. It's the kind of forced expression he's seen on you before, usually when you're trying to act like everything's fine when it really isn't.

Matt, on the other hand, seems entirely oblivious, leaning in a bit too close, his face lit up with that typical over-eager grin. He's almost leaning into your personal space as he chats away, looking way too thrilled to have your undivided attention, his eyes never leaving yours. The proximity feels a bit too familiar, too comfortable, with his arm casually resting on the back of your chair.

Chris feels a pang of protectiveness twist in his gut. He glances around the room, half-expecting Emily to appear and pull Matt back to the dance floor, but there's no sign of her. Instead, he spots her on the far side of the room, tipsy and laughing as she spins around with some stranger she's apparently mistaken for Matt. She's caught up in the music, oblivious to the fact that her boyfriend is practically glued to your side.

Ashley notices his distraction, her gaze softening as she studies him. "Chris?" she asks, her voice gentle, bringing him back to the moment. "Is everything okay?"

He blinks, snapping his attention back to her, guilt creeping in as he realizes he's been distracted. "Yeah, yeah, sorry," he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Just... got a lot on my mind."

Ashley smiles, tilting her head as she searches his face. "You sure? You can tell me, you know."

Chris hesitates, glancing around the room one more time. His gaze lands on Mike, who's slow-dancing with the girl in glittering dress. She's leaning against him, her head resting on his chest, but Mike's attention isn't on her.

His eyes are locked in your direction, his brow furrowed and his jaw set in a subtle scowl that's hard to miss. There's a tension in his gaze as he watches you and Matt together. There's a faint scowl tugging at his mouth, a subtle clenching of his jaw that makes it look like he's holding back the urge to step in but doesn't quite know how to act on it. His brows are drawn together and his eyes flick between you and Matt with a guarded intensity.

Chris frowns, glancing back at you. It's clear now that something is brewing beneath the surface, something he doesn't fully understand but can sense all the same. He looks down at Ashley, his expression softening as he makes up his mind.

"Hey, Ash?" he asks quietly, feeling a bit awkward but determined. "Would you mind helping me out with something real quick? I, uh... I owe someone a favor.”

You were mid-laugh at something Matt had said about his latest sports practice when a shadow loomed over the table. You looked up to find Mike standing there, holding his drink loosely in one hand and the other casually tucked in his pocket.

"Hey, Matt," Mike said, his tone light but carrying a subtle edge like he's asking for a favor he already expects to be granted. "Mind if I steal him for a bit?"

Matt's smile falters, and he glances at you, a bit reluctant, as if he doesn't quite want to let go of the moment he's carved out. "Uh... well, we were just-"

"Looks like Emily's about to make out with that guy," Mike interrupted, tilting his head toward the dance floor. "You might wanna handle that before it gets messy."

Matt whipped his head around, his face paling slightly as he spotted Emily drunkenly giggling and leaning far too close to the stranger. "Shit," he muttered, scrambling to his feet. "I'll, uh, catch you later." he says to you, giving you a quick nod before he disappears into the crowd.

"Yeah, sure," Mike said smoothly, his smirk widening as Matt hurried off. You glance back at him just in time to catch a wicked grin flash across his face as he watches Matt weave his way toward Emily.

He turns back to you and without a moment's hesitation, he slides into Matt's now-empty chair, shifting it even closer to yours with an obnoxiously loud scrap of wood against the floor. He dropped into the seat with a satisfied sigh. His arm resting along the back of your chair but soon sliding fully around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

The warmth of his body, the faint scent of his cologne, earthy with a hint of spice, made your thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. From this close, you could see every detail of his face: the light beard perfectly trimmed along his jaw, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the infuriatingly perfect way his smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth. He was leaning into his persona, that cocky, playful charm cranked up to eleven and it was doing things to your brain you weren't sure you were ready to admit.

"Well, this is cozy," Mike said, his voice low and smooth. "Didn't think Matt was ever gonna leave. Guy's got some stamina for talking, huh?"

You blinked, struggling to form words. "Uh, yeah. He's chatty"

Mike chuckled, the sound warm and teasing "Chatty? That's the nicest way to put it. Bet he's been boring you to death, huh?"

"Not entirely," you said, though your voice was far too shaky to be convincing. "He's enthusiastic."

Mike raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "You're too nice, you know that? If I had to sit through more than five minutes of that guy's rambling, I'd be asleep in my chair."

You laughed, though it came out a little too breathy. "Maybe I'm just better at pretending to be interested."

"Pretending, huh?" Mike's smirk widened. "So, what about me? Are you pretending to enjoy this little moment we're having?"

Your brain short-circuited. "I... I mean, no. I-uh... you're not boring. Definitely not boring."

"Good to know," Mike said, his voice dipping slightly as he leaned in just a fraction closer. "I'd hate to think I was putting you to sleep."

"You're not," you managed to say, your face burning.

Mike grinned, clearly reveling in your flustered state. "You're cute when you're nervous, you know that?"

“I’m not nervous,” you said quickly, though your gaze flickered away from his, betraying you.

“Sure you’re not,” Mike murmured, his fingers brushing just a little too close against your shoulder, the touch lingering for a beat longer than necessary. “What were you and Matt talking about? You looked a little bored." His tone was smooth but there was a faint edge to it now, like he was testing the air.

You noticed the subtle shift in his expression. His jaw tightening just slightly, his eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second as if he didn’t quite like the idea of you and Matt sharing a private moment.

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Just sport stuff and his latest victory for his team. He was just being friendly,” you added, trying to sound indifferent.

You didn’t miss the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes flickered just briefly toward the ground before locking onto yours again.

Mike’s lips quirked into a knowing smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, he looked real friendly.” The smirk that followed didn’t help, pulling at the corner of his mouth as if he was more amused than you thought he should be.

You raised an eyebrow, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

For a moment, Mike just stared at you, his expression unreadable. “Nothing,” he said too quickly, the innocence in his voice so forced that you could almost feel the tension cracking around him. The grin stretched wider, like a challenge. “Just saying, if I didn’t know better, I’d think Matt was hitting on you.”

Your breath caught in your throat and a flush of heat spread across your cheeks. You tried to play it off, but there was no denying the way your heart stuttered in your chest. “He wasn’t,” you said quickly, your voice coming out a little more defensively than you intended.

"Either way. Figured I'd come over and I don't know... make the night more interesting for you. Prom only happens once, right? Gotta make the most of it. Besides—” His voice softens, his gaze locking onto yours with a sincerity that takes you off guard. "—I've been waiting for an excuse to spend some time with you."

You swallow, feeling the heat rise to your face as his words sink in. "You have?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, his thumb grazing your shoulder in a slow, deliberate motion. "I mean, I could've come over sooner but you were busy with your brother. Then you were with Matt and I figured, maybe it's time I got a little selfish."

The intensity in his gaze makes it hard to breathe and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, caught between disbelief and exhilaration. "I... didn't think you noticed me like that," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike's grin softens, his hand moving from your shoulder to gently rest on your waist, pulling you even closer. "I notice a lot more than you think," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Like how you always look away when you think I'm watching, or how you get that little crease in your forehead when you're trying not to smile too much."

Mike makes a silent note to himself to later thank Chris for the insights he’d shared minutes ago.

You laugh, feeling both embarrassed and overjoyed. "Okay, now you're just showing off."

He chuckles, his arm tightening around your waist as he dips his head a bit closer, his voice a soft murmur. "Can't help it. You’ve got me so close to losing it and you don’t even realize it." His fingers press gently into your side.

“Dance with me,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with a tenderness that surprises you. There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, a vulnerability that makes your heart race. “Let me be the happiest guy in this place tonight.”

You feel your pulse race at the invitation, your mind whirling with both excitement and uncertainty. "What about that girl you were with?" you ask, your voice quiet and hesitant, unable to stop yourself from wondering.

Mike's smirk returns, his hold on your waist tightening slightly as he leans in, his voice a soft, almost possessive murmur. "She's not you. You’re the only one I can’t get out of my head.” His voice is rough, coated in something darker.

You meet his gaze, feeling your breath hitch as you search his face, trying to process the weight of his words.

He takes his chance to lean in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that leaves your heart racing. His lips crashing into yours with a desperate urgency that leaves you reeling. His hand slides around your waist, fingers tightening as he pulls you against him. The heat of his body sears through your clothes, and his thumb traces a slow, deliberate line along your cheek, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are swollen, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, that familiar cocky edge in his eyes. His eyes burn with that familiar, dangerous gleam-a challenge, a promise. His breath is ragged, as if he's barely holding back.

"Still up for that dance? Because I've got this new boyfriend I'd really like to show off." he whispers, his voice low and teasing. His breath brushes your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. He looks at you with that trademark mischievous grin, the one that could melt anyone’s defenses.

A rush of warmth floods your chest at his words, a mixture of giddiness and disbelief. Your heart skips, caught between the sweetness of the moment and the thrill of his presence. The corners of your mouth twitch up as you meet his gaze, and though you can barely keep your composure, you nod.

Mike's grin widens and as he takes your hand, guiding you to the dance floor, you feel as if you're floating, lost in the warmth of his gaze and the excitement of being his.

Note: if you liked this, please leave a comment. I love reading them <3

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randomthings299 · 4 months ago

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Can we talk about Elementary for a moment? Because this show is so fucking amazing I can’t. The premise is questionable, to say the least. „We’re gonna make a Sherlock Holmes adaption. But what if John is a woman called Joan and what if she is American? Oh and the whole thing is set in New York.“

Best start for a horrible American washed gender swap romance adaption but nothing could be further from the truth. Usually when the gender of a character is changed from canon it is to push some strange heteronormative romance sub plot but NO not Elementary.

The PLATONIC relationship between Joan and Sherlock is so amazingly done. It is the best portrayal of a QPR (queerplatonic relationship) I have ever seen in media. And even if we don’t take qprs into account we see a rich, deep, trusting friendship full of so much love. Elementary had the guts to use the word love in a platonic way, something other Sherlock Holmes adaptions (I’m looking at you BBC) never dared to do. And this in a show where Holmes and Watson are opposite genders, so the association with romance is done even quicker. Meanwhile, we watch Watson struggle with traditional dating and amatonormativity until she finally finds happiness in her platonic partnership with Sherlock and later as a single mum.

Elementary is also the only adaption I’ve seen that really explores Holmes's addiction. Usually, even in ACD canon, his drug addiction is treated as some personality quirk. An annoying habit but nothing more. But that is not how addiction works. Especially not with hard drugs like morphine and cocaine if we look at Canon or heroin in case of BBC and Elementary. Elementary puts great focus on Sherlock's long, presumably lifelong struggle with addiction and the great strength and effort it takes for him to stay clean. It emphasizes his need for a stable support system and doesn’t downplay addiction like a lot of Sherlock Holmes adaptions do. This is amazing.

Another great thing is the casualness of how queer people are incorporated into the story. They are just there. Their queerness isn’t the focus of their story, it is just part of who they are. Mrs. Hutson is trans but the focus is on the many influential men she has had affairs with. Victims are queer. Suspects are queer. Police are queer. Queer people just exist in this show without making it a big deal.

Even tho it isn't a perfect ACD Holmes adaption especially if we look at Sherlock's character I love this show so much.

#sherlock holmes #acd holmes #elementary sherlock #elementary #bbc sherlock #aroace elementary #Holmes and Watson qpr #Sherlock and Joan QPR #Elementary qpr #Joan Watson #Sherlock and Joan #Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson QPR

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holmesianlove · 27 days ago

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Chapter 15 - First Kiss

Watching the scenery in silence was less tedious than Sherlock expected. But he couldn’t talk to John. Everything John did lately only made him nervous, or suspicious, or depressed… Or happy. Most of the things made him happy, really. But sitting in silence felt wrong too. There had been too much silence between them for the wrong reasons and he didn't like it.

“You asked me about me… earlier and I…” He cleared his throat. “I suppose I also struggle with sharing personal information.”

John turned his head, browsed raised. “You think?”

Sherlock gave an awkward smile back. “I suppose I felt, as you did, that I didn’t want you to be… nervous about moving in with me… so I…” He tilted his head trying to think how to say things properly. “Like you, John, I’m not one to share things with the world. About myself. But I think, perhaps, it then became too hard… to share them with you. I left it too long. We had an understanding and that was enough.”

John nodded. “It is enough, Sherlock. We don’t have to know everything about each other to be best friends. Knowing each other’s sexual interests changes nothing about our case work together or our daily lives. It’s irrelevant.”

Irrelevant.

“Neither of us seems built for long term things. Perhaps we’re each an acquired taste. Like a fine liquor,” John suggested. “Not meant for everyone.”

Sherlock chuckled. “Perhaps you’re right. Or perhaps we have incredibly high standards.”

John scoffed. “You’ve been observing my dating. I wouldn’t say that’s the problem, would you?”

Sherlock couldn’t help laughing at the remark. “No, perhaps not. Not those women. But, perhaps, in looking for the right one, John. The person you would settle down for? None of your usual women are marriage material, obviously.”

“Oh, I think most women our age think only of marriage and snagging a man to get them babies. Maybe that’s the actual problem.”

“Do you want that? Marriage? Children?” Sherlock asked, trying to hide all self interest from his expression.

John looked at Sherlock a little surprised. “You’ve really started delving for answers haven’t you?” he teased. “The amount of information you’ve pulled from me in the space of a day is… ridiculous.”

“Well?” Sherlock asked expectantly, not to be deterred.

John sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve not really thought about it. Maybe once. I had a long term thing... once. A long time ago. In med school. I thought…maybe…” John’s eyes drifted off, his thoughts far away for a moment. “That was the only time I discussed kids and marriages. Alex,” John offered with a smile.”

“Alex?” Sherlock accepted the name like it was delicate cargo. John was sharing real information now. “And was she interested in those things too?” he asked.

John shook his head. “In the end, things were too complicated.” He looked out the window to the scenery, clearly uncomfortable.

“Well, that’s a shame. She missed out on how great you are now,” Sherlock offered. There was a pain in his chest at the idea that John had built a serious life with someone that he never spoke about, that could have been 'the one' big thing for him. Was that why he was so guarded now?

“Too old for kids now,” John scoffed, keeping his eyes fixed outside. “Could you imagine the chaos?” he tried to make it sound flippant, joking, but it fell flat and sounded bitter.

Sherlock reached out and put a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, John.”

“Not your doing. Sometimes life sends us in new directions. I flew into a war zone to move on from that one and… well you’ve seen what I’ve done with my life since,” John said with a grimace. “But I met you because of all of that. It led me to here.”

Sherlock sat in silence. He really had opened some wounds on John which were telling, fascinating. He wanted to know more but he needed to be careful not to push too hard. After his pep talk with his brother he had been so eager to rush home and just blurt everything out. But instead, he was going to have to treat John like case work. Like a delicate puzzle that needed solving, unwinding, to find the way in.

“So. No children. But a contented life with someone?” Sherlock probed. “Surely you still hope for that?”

“Isn’t that what we already have?” John asked. He turned his head to look at Sherlock and it was clear his eyes were red-rimmed. The topic had upset him.

Sherlock’s stomach sank. “John—“ He should stop this now. It wasn't worth upsetting John over.

“Well, it’s true. We have the work. And our friendship. It’s a good life, Sherlock. It’s certainly the happiest I’ve been in a long time and precious little makes me happy these days, as you know.” He huffed and crossed his arms. “Maybe for some people... that’s all we get. And it’s okay. I am content. I've made peace with it.”

Sherlock swallowed hard and was rendered speechless. Unintentionally, they had chosen one another and while Sherlock secretly wanted more, it was nice to know John felt that way, at least. John returned his gaze to the scenery and Sherlock picked up his phone to scroll on it in silence, to leave him with his thoughts.

John’s voice interrupted him quite a while later. He had obviously needed time to think and process.

“Did you ever? With anyone? You know, make plans and all that?” John asked awkwardly.

Sherlock huffed. “No. You think you’re insufferable? Then what am I?”

“Oi, I don’t think I ever used the word insufferable… for me at least,” John teased, nudging Sherlock gently with his shoulder.

Sherlock couldn’t help smiling at that. “Fair point,” he said. No, John wasn’t the insufferable one at all.

“Did you want to? Ever settle down?” John asked.

The idea of settling down had never even crossed Sherlock’s mind. The question surprised him. Oh, he knew it was a ritual people performed. He’d attended weddings, admittedly more of them as a detective checking a dead body than as a guest which really said something about the institution - at least in Sherlock’s mind. But he had never given any of it much thought. Making friends or attempting to date had been so uncomfortable that he never thought beyond that. Until John.

“Only once,” Sherlock said gently, looking at his lap. If he was going to get through this he needed to just say it all and not look up. Just power through. “I know I’m difficult. Most people find me difficult and I struggled with that for a long time. And then I found the drugs and I didn’t have to worry about anyone but myself for a while. I was a selfish mess and I needed no one. But then there was a light. A light came into my life that changed everything. A strong, kind, caring being who made everything else seem unimportant. All the people who hadn’t understood me before didn’t matter and it was as if a path forward finally lit up before me. It all made sense.” He stopped and fidgeted with his hands. Keep going, he willed himself.

“The thing is, John, after all this time, I’ve realised… I don’t need anything else, anyone else. Like you, I’m content with how things are. You at Baker Street. Working together on cases, and just… carrying on in… what do they call it? Domesticated bliss, I suppose? And I know you’re uncomfortable working out how you fit in with your… identity or whatever you want to call it. So I’m not saying this to complicate that. But Mycroft - I know, I know, I shouldn’t listen to him but he is prone to the occasional wisdom - anyway, he suggested that I just talk to you. We’re best friends. So I am just talking to you. I’m just telling you what’s in my head, or in my heart, as it were. And you can do with that, what you will. The fact is, I… for some time now, I… have thought that I would very much like to… ask you… That is, I wondered, if perhaps, you might… have dinner with me? I mean, I know we eat dinner together all the time. That’s not what I mean, obviously. I mean, really have dinner. As in, a date. I’m asking you on a date John.” Sherlock was terrified to turn his head, to look at John’s reaction. What in heaven’s name would he think of it all? At least he hadn’t run yet. He was still sitting there.

Using all his willpower, he turned his head only to find John Watson sleeping. Sitting upright, arms still crossed, his neck tilted in the most uncomfortable looking position. He was absolutely still.

Sherlock sighed and then chuckled to himself. Of course. Of course he would have missed all of that.

He let out another heavy sigh of resignation. He lifted his arm up and over John’s head to gently nudge him, so his head fell onto Sherlock’s waiting shoulder. He left his arm there, curved around John's shoulder to support his friend. Perhaps it was for the best that he didn't hear. John said he was content. Why rush things? He already had John Watson in every other way. Maybe that would simply need to be enough.

He looked down at John’s light hair just resting on his dark woollen coat. His arms had uncrossed as he tilted, and one of his hands had fallen onto Sherlock's thigh which was all Sherlock could look at now. He could hear John’s gentle, steady breathing and it felt so perfect.

“This can be enough,” he whispered to himself and he tilted his head down and placed a kiss on the top of John’s head. “This can be enough.”

@lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @221beloved @safedistancefrombeingsmart

@givemesherbet-blog-blog @naefelldaurk @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear

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@westandforships @fuck-off-watson-rp @notjustamumj @melodious-me

#johnlock #sherlockbbc #fanfic #john watson #sherlock holmes #sherlock fandom #angsty #bbc sherlock #Holidaze2024 #December prompts #December prompt #fic prompt #fanfic prompt

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noblecorgi · 12 days ago

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2024: A Re-Entry to Fandom

I guess this is a thing? (Oh shit this brackets bit was written at the end and I appear to have emotionally vomited an essay. Sorry ‘bout that.)

In late 2023 I experienced a personal tragedy and retreated to where I had always found comfort: books.

I read a series that had been recommended to me before, but I hadn’t had time to read it - The Simon Snow Trilogy by @rainbowrowell and it awoke a dormant-but-never-forgotten love of fanfiction in me.

In my teens and early 20s I wrote a lot of fan fiction on the ol’ FF net, all of it of atrocious quality I’m certain, which is why I haven’t tried to rediscover that account.

Instead I found AO3, and restarted regularly writing for fun instead of for work or study/research.

I didn’t do any summation for 2023 because I think my first fic was posted on like 10 December 2023, but AO3 tells me I wrote 4 works, all SnowBaz, at a total of 55,154 words.

In 2024, I’ve published 5 works, at a total of 94,323 words.

What truly blows me away (and honestly makes me a bit teary) is the 1013 kudos, 100 subscribers (inc 15 subscribers to just me rather than a fic!), and 222 comment threads on my works. 🥹

So: my 2024 works.

Use your words, SnowBaz, Rated: E, 3,930 words

A smutty lil gift fic wherein Baz teaches Simon how to sext.

Splendid Morons, SnowBaz, Rated: E, 12,886 words

Published for Erotic Grope Fest, aka Baz’s birthday. A collaboration with @alexalexinii and a story written to enable their amazing art of Baz in lingerie.

Precious to me for not only getting to work with Alex, but also for being the beginning of my relationship with Becky @rbkzz, my incomparable beta who has become one of the dearest people in my life.

On The Rocks, SnowBaz, Rated: E, 74,592 words (WIP)

My opus, as it were. It originated from a fluffy cute prompt of “what if Baz and Lady Ruth were work besties?!” And I came along like ��YEAH! But with trauma, exploration of love in mental illness, and alcoholism!”

I began posting it in March and it’s about 2/3 done now. But for Becky it would be both an absolute pile of horse poop, and an abandoned WIP. Instead it has a clear direction and she found motifs that I’d repeatedly used by accident in my drafts and built imagery, greater meaning, and also debated me ad nauseam on my preference for spelt over spelled.

Immune Response, @lumosinlove’s Cubs, Rated: G, 1,421 words

I was a big consumer of WolfStar in my teens and was recommended Lumosinlove’s Sweater Weather and, like many before me, fell in love with the story, the original characters, and ice hockey itself (much to the surprised glee of my Canadian spouse, who for a decade has tried in vain to get me on board. Little did he know the key was obviously gays.)

This is a lil’ slice of life sick fic examining how each of the Cubs responds to getting sick.

I have a lot more unpublished drabbles about these characters and some fics that are being cocreated so stay tuned for 2025?

Preliminary, my dear Basil, SnowBaz, Rated: T, 1,494 words

A gift fic for @martsonmars as part of the Carry On Discord’s Secret Snowflake Exchange.

Among their suggestions was “Sherlock AU, but not BBC Sherlock, 19th century Sherlock” and it hooked me with the idea that Baz would absolutely fancy himself as Sherlock. I actually sketched out a plot to SnowBazify 4 of the Holmes stories, so maybe 2025 will see them unearthed.

There is one other published fic I worked on this year, but as a beta rather than a writer for @swoopswrites @rsbigbang piece Class A which was super fun to do (and got me to watch a great series - The Gentlemen on Netflix) and Swoops has a fantastic mind so I’d encourage you to to check it out.

Finally, I have always been a writer rather than an artist, but I do enjoy drawing, and the need to upgrade my iPad for work arose and so I also tried my hand at drawing again for the first time since I was 17 or so.

In order from the first one to the most recent one, the lil scribbles I did this year:

Penelope Bunce, Wolfstar on a train, Baz with coffee, cuddly Cubs, FinnLo being adorable, iconic Moony with a cane, emo Sirius Black.

And THAT was 2024 (and 2023).

@artsyunderstudy @asocialpessimist @angelsfalling16 @whatevertheweather @edenalix @emjaydellyone @erzbethluna @emeryhall @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @roomwithanopenfire @thehoneyedhufflepuff @theearlgreymage @thewholelemon @lonleyhumanbeing @letraspal @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @ichooseyousnowbaz @ic3-que3n @ileadacharmedlife @onepintobean @palimpsessed @prettygoododds @philaet0s @pacey-bunce-loves-joey @sorenphelps @skee3000 @stitchy-queerista @fiend-for-culture @facewithoutheart @fruitcoops @girlwithcurls96 @hushed-chorus @hihimissamericanbi @cutestkilla @cosmicalart @confused-bi-queer @noopienoopiernoopiest @messofthejess @monbons

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kaylopolis · 6 months ago

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Fifteen

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers,

The amount of mental gymnastics I did trying to figure out where hands and legs went while trying to write this...

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Fifteen - Heaven's Worst Kept Secret

Content Warning: MINORS DNI!!!!! Mentions of abuse, Smut, Bondage, Obsession, (let me know if I missed any!)

“Fuck!” Velvette landed face-first on the floor, Vox next to her.

The media demon was silent as he picked himself up, his body bruised and broken. He limped over to the couch, his head hanging low as he leaned against the back of it for support.

Velvette went straight for Vox’s new desk and began furiously typing as the computers reloaded. You had triggered a system reset when you sent Vox’s mind buffering, but the Vees had a failsafe set in place after the last time Alastor cut the wires. With cracked fingernails, she pulled up footage of the fight on the numerous monitors Vox had stitched together into one giant screen.

“She used me,” Vox mumbled to himself in disbelief.

Velvette didn’t even dignify his groveling with a response. The brat demon continued to swipe through the footage, desperately searching for a particular frame.

“She used me for him?” Vox was still trying to put the pieces together as if his brain itself was also reloading.

“Oh, shut it!” Velvette snapped. Her nose continued to drip down her face, leaving red dots scattered across the keyboard.

There! Velvette froze the two frames she was looking for and blew them up on the computer. The brat stomped over to Vox, grabbed him by an antennae, and dragged him to the screen.

“Look at this and tell me what you see,” she demanded.

Vox shook his head. “Wait.” He jumped back from her grip, wincing when he stepped on his bad ankle. “Are you making another plan? We lost, Velvette! We fucking lost!”

“No shit, Sherlock, but if you…”

“No ‘but’s, Velv! It’s over! Don’t you get that!?”

Velvette choked, tears in her eyes, “Vox-!”

Vox cupped her face rather harshly, forcing her to look and understand the words that escaped his speakers, “He’s dead. Val is dead and isn’t coming back.”

She shook him off. “And you’re just gonna let him die, are you? Let it all be for fuckin’ nothing!?” Velvette shoved him. Vox fell into the back of the couch, wincing on his bad leg.

“We lost, Velvette! There isn’t anything to do!”

“You’re just saying that because your ex picked her over you. Well, newsflash, you bloody idiot, there’s a reason Alastor turned you down! Because you’re a fuckin’ pussy!”

Vox gave up. The two of them have been fighting since Valentino’s death - Velvette in particular. She had done nothing but push him away, ordering him around as her master plan slowly fell into place. Vox had put up with it because it was rational, wasn’t it? No one processes grief the same, and everyone needs time to process. Vox had chosen to isolate himself, barely getting up off the couch, using Val’s old Fizz bots to bring him snacks and junk food, which he had gorged himself on for days. He spent days in the same suit until Velvette forced him to change by dumping a bucket of water on his head.

Yeah, it wasn’t nice, but she still managed to get him up and moving, and for that, he was grateful. Until his patience ran out, and he found himself snapping back at her. Meeting her anger with his own growing irritation. It was only a matter of time before they were at each other’s throats. It's the reason they split up the party to take down the Radio Demon and the Shadow separately - it was not a strategy at first. The rest of the plan was built from there.

That is probably why they lost. The Vees were always stronger together, but they weren’t “The Vees” anymore. They hadn’t been since you murdered Valentino. Velvette liked to claim that she was the backbone of their trio, but when it came down to it, she wasn’t.

“Fine.” Vox spat, but his words lacked anger. “You want to go after Alastor and that damn Angel, be my guest, but I’m done.”

“Pussy!” She screamed after him as he disappeared behind the door.

Velvette turned back to the screen. Damn, Angel…

The demon tutted, an idea forming in her brain. “I wonder if Heaven knows it’s missing an Angel?” She clacked her broken nails against the screen, a wicked smile forming on her face. She had pulled up a still image of you and a separate one of Lucifer. While you and Vox had your pissing contest regarding your lack of relationship, Velvette was focusing on other matters. Most notably, trying to figure out why Hell’s King was beneath your robe and not you. He hadn’t been seen around Hell since Lilith left him. So why show up now?

Velvette spun as she laughed, “Especially one who looks so much like a Morningstar...”

Oh, but how to tell Heaven?

An idea sprang forth, a memory of an ad she had seen hundreds of times while flipping through her phone. Velvette pulled out her phone and dialed.

There was a musical jingle before someone answered: “Hello, thank you for calling, C.H.E.R.U.B., how may we bless you today?”

____________________________________________

You woke to sunlight beaming through the curtains and soft jazz playing through Alastor’s radio. It was early - morning - you had slept through the late afternoon into the next day. The world smelled of rain as you turned over in Alastor’s silk sheets. They were cool to the touch, which would be nice if you were someone who ran hot - like Alastor - but you were forever cursed to be cold. Instinctively, you reached out, searching for that well of warmth, and jumped when your hand came into contact with nothing but fur.

Alastor lay next to you, his arms folded beneath a pillow, his face propped up next to yours. The demon’s red irises sparkled in the morning light, his gaze wholly fixated on your sleeping form. He lay shirtless on his belly, the red sheets hooked around his waist. His hair was a tangled mess atop his head - a serious case of bedhead that made you smile.

Alastor beamed when he finally realized you were awake. His tail beneath the sheets wagged, tossing the blankets aside to reveal the red and black tuft at the crest of his hips. It was adorable, and it only made you grin wider when you realized Alastor was completely naked in bed with you.

Your gaze drifted across his broad shoulders and down his back to his slim waist. Who knew a back could be sculpted? Who knew men even had hard ridges that moved with their very breath? So many Angels you’ve trained who grew muscles on top of muscles until they were disgustingly large, but not Alastor. He was slim but carried with him a defined tone as if chiseled by Heaven itself - an image worthy of the Sistine Chapel’s ceiling.

God, if only the sheets would fall a little lower.

“Bonjour, mon cœur. Comment as-tu dormi? Good morning, my heart. How did you sleep?” Alastor ran a hand down the side of your cheek, his fingers playing with your wild hair.

Normally, you hated mornings - you were a total grump before that first cup of coffee. Had anyone tried to speak to you in French this early, you’d have turned over and groveled, but today you were beaming. All too eager to please the Overlord, all too excited to impress him with your French as well.

“Commes le morts, Like the dead,” you giggled, hiding your face behind the sheets.

Alastor’s eyes sparked. The demon snaked his arms under the sheets and yanked you by your waist beneath him. The sheets came with you, separating your skin from his - a God-forsaken barrier. His arms framed your face as he leaned in, his nose brushing yours. “Tu parles avec un accent du sud-ouest. You speak with a Southwestern accent.”

“Oui,” you smiled, tilting your chin up. The wisp ends of the demon’s hair tickled your cheeks as you leaned in, but Alastor playfully pulled away, a claw pulling on your lower lip.

“Et où as-tu appris ça? And where did you learn that?” The demon whispered, his eyes wholly on your lips.

The Southwestern accent, associated with the city of Toulouse, is considered to be “sexy.” While some Parisians find it provincial, others think it exotic. That may or may not have been a contributing factor to why you chose that particular accent. As an Angel, you could switch languages at will, but switching accents… Well, now you were just showing off.

“Je... Qu'est-ce que c'est? I… What is that?” Something behind Alastor’s head caught your attention.

On the underbelly of the canopy was a large figure drawn in green. `

“That,” Alastor ran his lips along your cheek and across your jawline, not even bothering to look up, “is the reason why you didn’t burn down my apartment last night.”

Your face heated. Last night… Last night, when you and Alastor… got into it, there was no fire, no static, no magic of any kind destroying the world around you. At the time, you knew it was because of Alastor, but you didn’t know exactly how he did it.

“It’s a vèvè,” you sat up to get a better look, holding the satin sheets from slipping below your breasts.

“Hmm,” Alastor sat behind you, his eyes on your hair as he answered, “Papa Loko’s vèvè.”

“When…” You turn to find Alastor lying on his back, his chest and abs in full view. You’ve seen his muscles before, and although the sight of them still made heat pool in your belly, you were woefully caught off guard by the happy trail of red that started just below his belly button and disappeared beneath the sheets, most likely ending at the base of his -.

Oh, my God. You turned away, forcing your mind to focus on the symbol above.

You could hear Alastor audibly smirk.

A vèvè is a kind of symbol, a cosmogram, a visual representation of the spirits and deities honored in Voodoo. In Haitian Voodoo, Papa Loko is known for his healing powers and association with the wind. His role is that of protector, and his vèvè depicts a snake coiled around a vertical axis. It was a symbol of protection, the source of magic that had allowed the two of you to indulge but not destroy.

You breathed, your body tingling with anticipation, “When did you draw that up there?”

The demon ran a hand through your hair, collecting the silver locks and brushing them over your opposite shoulder. The demon had an unobstructed view of your neck, of the bruises and little nicks in your skin, and, more importantly, of the bite mark. The bite mark Alastor left on your skin, claiming you, marking you as his.

“Before or after the Vees fake kidnapped you?” You asked, trying your best to ignore his hands on you.

Alastor wasn’t listening. His mind was on the teeth marks in your skin, trailing his claw amongst them, replaying each one in his memory.

“Before or after Mardi Gras?”

The demon didn’t answer, pulling away, he organized the pillows so he could rest comfortably against the headboard.

Suddenly, the answer hit you. “Our meeting.”

You gasped when Alastor easily picked you up by your hips and seated you between his legs. The demon pulled you against him. Your back flushed with his chest.

“You thought I was going to return and try to…”

Alastor pressed a kiss to your shoulder, a soft peck. Your mind went blank with the feel of his lips on your skin.

“Yes, mon couer?” You could hear the sideways grin in his voice as his hands fell to your hips. They roamed the skin of your waist, the curve of your silhouette, relishing in the feel of you between his legs.

The way Alastor wiped your mind with just a touch…

“You thought I was a threat,” your head lolled back, resting in the fluff of his chest. “I’m honored.”

Alastor smiled as he kissed you again, slowly working his way to the crook of your neck… The demon smelled of rain, of musk, of vanilla.

“Why am I just now noticing this?” You breathed, your heart rate spiking as Alastor ran his tongue over a particularly sore bruise. He was making it so hard to think.

“Because I allow you,” Alastor’s voice was deep. His words filter across your senses with a smoky edge. The radio static fizzed out, leaving behind nothing but his own natural, raw vocals.

Allow you? Oh… That’s why you couldn’t smell him… Well, not at first, but slowly, you’ve been able to pick up more and more. You wondered if he knows that you can feel his static before he enters a room, if he had conscious control over that?

The demon pressed his lips to the mark at the crook of your neck, to the wound in the shape of his teeth, and licked.

“Oh, Heaven,” you choked.

Alastor’s hands ran up your sides to cup your breasts. You let the sheet fall then, the cold air leaving goosebumps across your skin. Your fingers went straight to his hair, to his ears.

You tugged.

Alastor’s hips bucked as he growled, his dick hardening against your backside perfectly in line with your ass. The demon squeezed your breasts, pinching your nipples between forefinger and thumb.

“Alastor,” you moaned his name, the heat pooling between your legs.

You whine when his hands leave your breasts, The demon bent his legs, his hooves flat on the bed. You gasped when he grabbed your knees and hooked them around his, opening your legs, and baring you to the world.

Alastor nipped at your ear lobe, eliciting his favorite noise, the yelp between your teeth.

Pressing his lips to your ear, he whispers, “Be a good girl and lift up.”

The demon slips his cock from beneath you, slick with precum. You can feel the heat of him between your legs as you settle back down, his shaft nuzzled against your center. Alastor gripped his shaft and slowly stroked. You watched, not only in awe - Jesus, that thing was inside of you !? - but because you wanted to learn.

You’ve been in God’s realm for thousands of years and never had you touched a man. Eve bedded everything and everyone, but you didn’t stay and watch. She’d talk of her sexual conquests, but you never really listened, too busy trying to sort out why others were so interested in sex, let alone why they’d want to partake with a complete stranger.

Here. Now. You wanted to learn because you wanted to make Alastor feel as good as he made you feel. You wanted to feel the demon squirm under your touch, to bring him the satisfaction of completion all on your own.

Alastor released his hold, and his cock sprang back, smacking your clit and making you jump.

The demon laughed as he trailed a line of searing kisses up your neck, his other hand tracing your silhouette. He paused at your breast to squeeze. You tried to rub your knees together, wishing for some sort of friction between your legs, but Alastor held your legs open firmly. You whined when his hand dropped lower, drawing little circles with his fingers across your skin.

It didn’t feel possessive so much as it seemed like he was contemplating clever ways to torture you. He brought his mouth to your neck again and nipped. All the while, his hand drifted lower and lower, finding the inside of your thigh. You tried to scoot lower, to feel his shaft grind against your center, but Alastor’s hand on your thigh stopped you.

“Alastor, this is torture,” you pouted, your hands going behind you to find his hair. You searched for his ears, hoping to find a way to force his hand, but the demon lifted his head back, leaving you just out of reach.

“I made you a promise, mon couer, to spend hours drawing orgasm after orgasm until you beg me to stop, until you’re screaming my name in agony, until your dying for my cock.”

For the love of Christ, this man and his words!

“You want me to beg?” You whined, your fingers gripping his hair.

The demon smiled. With his free hand, Alastor ran two fingers up his shaft, collecting a drop of cum on the pads of his fingers. “Oh, no, darling.” He rubbed the white fluid between his two fingers and thumb. “I want you screaming.”

And then plunged those two fingers inside of you.

You gasped as he sank to the first knuckle, his thumb finding your clit. The demon stroked, his fingers wet with his cum as he circled your center. With each pump of his fingers, Alastor matched it by stroking his cock, chasing his own pleasure as you gasped atop of him.

With the demon at your back, his fingers naturally curled upward, immediately hitting your g-spot with every pump of his hand. The feeling was already too much, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a pace you knew would leave you sore afterward. Alastor wanted you to cum, and he wanted it fast. Instinctively, your hips rolled, eliciting a growl from the demon. He thrusted hard, your breasts bouncing with every stroke of your core.

Jesus Christ, he was finger fucking you with his cum.

The demon dropped his dick, his hand coming to your breast and pinching your nipple - hard. A scream stopped in your throat as you arched off of him, your only leverage, the fingers you had wrapped in his hair. It wasn’t enough; with the force Alastor’s hand was fucking you with, he was going to knock you right off him.

You dropped his locks, forgoing his hair for his antlers. The demon growled as you wrapped your hands around the base of his rack, the bone thicker, sprouting a few extra prongs than normal. Alastor’s strokes turned demanding as you writhed on top of him, your breath coming in shallow bursts, your pulse pounding through every glorious inch of your body.

Fuck, you were close already, and you had just begun.

And then Alastor adds a third finger, and not once but twice, and you’re over the edge, your body shaking as the orgasm rides through your body. His fingers continue to pump, riding you through your high until you slump back down into him.

The demon doesn’t give you a moment to breathe.

Alastor shadows you. Suddenly, you’re on your feet, your chest pressed into the mattress, you’re ass high in the air. The juices from your orgasm trickle down your inner thigh as he hooks an arm around your legs, squeezing them together to create the perfect amount of friction as he seats his cock between your legs. He pumps forward and backward a few times, his head hitting your overly sensitive clit.

It’s too soon after your orgasm. Your body hasn’t had a chance to fully come back down yet. So every stroke of his cock against your center is sensory overload.

“You’re so fucking wet,” Alastor moans. The demon presses down on the back of your neck, his fingers wrapped around your throat, forcing you into the mattress.

“Yes,” you pant, squeezing your thighs harder, driving him against your clit. Jesus, you don’t know if you can do this. You’re nerves are on fire, it’s too much, too overwhelming.

“Cum on my cock,” he commands, his voice labored with his thrusts. You barely register the command, your mind going numb yet overloaded at the same time.

The pressure builds, and your body tenses, but Alastor holds fast to you, keeping up the pace and rhythm. He grows harder by the second, and you can feel every ridge of him against your slickness.

“Cum for me,” Alastor commands again.

“I… I can’t,” you pant.

Suddenly, Alastor wraps his arms under yours. With one hand, he palms your breast, and the other wraps around your throat. He pulls you up, flush against him, and squeezes hard, cutting off your air supply and surely bruising your nipple.

And it's enough. You cry out, orgasming for the second time in a row, muscles and nerves blinking. Your knees buckle beneath you, but Alastor holds you up as wave after wave crashes through you, a guttural groan escaping your lips.

The demon slows his strokes, his cock grinding between your legs with a slick wet sound. God, you had made a mess.

“Good girl,” he kisses your throat before slowly allowing you to collapse onto the bed once more.

You have but a moment to breathe before something slithers around your wrists. You jerk away to find one of Alastor’s tentacles knotting around itself.

Fuck, this isn’t over.

The black tendrils pull you back on your feet, your toes barely scraping the floor. You spin, coming face-to-face with Alastor. The demon has a fire in his eyes akin to that of the look he gets just before he murders someone.

Holy shit, this seriously isn’t over.

Alastor closes the distance between the two of you and presses a soft kiss to your lips. Sweat beads down your forehead and his as the demon strokes his cock, a dark, devious fire burning in his aura. “One more,” Alastor whispers against your mouth.

You groan, but don’t deny him.

Something soft slithers up your leg, you look down to see a tendril winding its way up your calf. You gasp when Alastor cups your chin and forces your gaze up again, forcing you to look into his eyes as the tendril makes its way up your thigh and between your legs. A sharp gasp escapes your throat when it finds your center and flicks your clit.

Oh, God.

“One more,” you moan, your eyelashes heavy, fluttering against your cheeks.

You can do this. One more.

The demon smiles, kissing you softly. He hooks your legs over his elbows as another tendril snakes its way around your middle before slithering north, teasing your nipple, squeezing your breast.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan loudly as Alastor seats the head of his cock at your entrance. He pushes in but an inch and stops.

You pout, ready to open your mouth in protest, but find Alastor’s eyes gleaming. His smile goes sideways, as it normally does when he’s up to something clever.

He wants you to beg.

“Please,” you moan, feeling your walls twitch around nothing, your body feeling empty, the memory of how much he filled you last night playing over and over again in your head. His tendrils continued to flick and pinch, building your need but not giving your body what it truly demanded.

“Please, Alastor,” you begged. You, the almighty Archangel, were begging a Human Sinner to fuck you.

“Please, what?” Alastor purred. The narcissist in him was eating this up, only heightening his sexual arousal.

“Please, fuck me,” you twitch as the tendril flicks your clit. “I need you in me.” You were on the edge of pain with the caress of pleasure at this point.

Alastor leans in close, his dick hard as stone but still barely inside of you, “As you command, mon couer.”

And then he slams into you, his cock fully seated to the hilt, his head brushing the entrance to your cervix. Alastor fucks you so hard your teeth clack together, the squelching of your slickness with every thrust. If it weren’t for the tendrils, he would have launched you.

The build of pleasure is slow this time, your nerves still trying to reload from the last round, but Alastor is relentless. He was going to forcibly pull this orgasm from you if it's the last thing he does. The demon’s claws dig into the fat of your hips, drawing little pebbles of golden liquid to the surface as he pulls you down into him with every thrust.

It’s a mercy that Alastor doesn’t last long. He’s been edging even before you came the second time. He’s been holding himself back, forcing his own orgasm away until he was seated inside of you.

“Oh, fuck,” Alastor chokes before he slams into you, unloading into you, filling you with cum.

With a flick of Alastor’s tendril, the growing wetness between your legs, you fall over the edge with him. This orgasm is both pain and pleasure, the sense of free falling but also crash landing as Alastor continues to pump, your walls twitching around every hard ridge of him.

You stay locked together for what feels like forever, sticky, sweaty, and spent. Alastor’s forehead finds yours as he slumps into you, his cock throbbing out the last of his pleasure.

Jesus - fucking - Christ, he wasn’t kidding when he made those promises.

With the help of his magic, Alastor lowers the both of you onto his bed. “Tu seras ma perte, mon couer, You will be my undoing, my heart,” the demon breathes into your hair as he cuddles up to your side. The two of you lay there and breathe, waiting for your minds to return your bodies.

You get it now. All those nights Eve spent chasing sex, all those morning walks of shame, all those people sneaking out in the early hours of the day… If any of them were half as good as Alastor was, it would have been worth it.

You laugh at the thought.

“What is so funny?” Alastor breathes.

“I finally understand the carnal appeal of sex,” you laugh, your body spent. “From a demon, no less…”

Alastor smirks, “You are in Hell, dear.” Sitting up, he quickly kisses your forehead before pushing off the bed and heading to the bathroom. “Not to change the subject, you might want to cover yourself.” The demon helps you into a plush bathroom robe.

“What?” He’s moving too fast for your mind to register the situation.

“Rolf made coffee, and he is all too eager to share it,” Alastor climbs into the bed next to you. “Immediately.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your mind sobers fast as you pull the robe on and cinch it around your waist. You’re barely under the covers before Alastor’s shadow opens the door. With a tray in hand and a big goofy smile on his face, Rolf presents two cups of coffee before you.

It takes you a moment to register that Rolf didn’t just make coffee; he created two concoctions: a jasmine latte and a black chai.

You smile, pretending the room isn’t filled with the scent of sex. Could shadows smell? “You’ve been watching me?”

Rolf smiles, nodding his head like a proud toddler running home from school with his first art project.

Your chest warms, “Thank you.” You reach for the mug and - .

The jasmine latte is in Alastor’s “Oh Deer!” mug - his mug. No one touches Alastor’s mug. You hesitate, unsure of how to tackle this situation, but you don’t have to think long before the demon snatches the cup and thrusts it into your hands.

“Thank you, Rolf. That will be all.” Alastor takes the other cup, bringing it into his lap as the shadow bows and leaves the room.

Holy shit. You were holding Alastor’s cup. Nifty gave you an entire fucking lecture about not touching Alastor’s stuff. Fuck, you didn’t even touch it to move it around to reach other cups in the cabinet. And Alastor just gave it to you.

“It’s going to taste terrible,” Alastor kisses your temple before setting his own on the bedside table.

Wait. Your brain still wasn’t computing. Was he okay with sharing his things with you? This felt like a step, like a relationship step, and you were surprisingly taken off guard by it. Yet, it wasn’t a bad thing. It was a scary thing, sure, but you were excited about it. You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face, the absolute beam of joy radiating off of you.

You had earned more privileges with Alastor, something no one else was privy to.

And then you took a sip. “Ugh!” You choked.

The demon laughed, “I told you.”

It tasted like a mouthful of powder, as if Rolf had poured the entire container of jasmine matcha into the cup, with barely any milk to dilute it.

Alastor took the cup from your hand, placing it next to his, before kissing the top of your head. “Come, let us wash.”

____________________________________________

You stood before the bathroom mirror wrapped in nothing but a towel. The glass had fogged over, but you ran a hand through it, revealing just enough to inspect the trail of bruises Alastor had left on your neck. God, and only the left side, too.

Alastor had taken you to the shower this time, allowing you to do nothing but stand there as he washed you. There wasn’t anything sexual about it - thank the Lord. You didn’t have the strength to withstand another round with the demon. His sexual appetite was profound. Instead, he doted on you, scrubbing you with the soap that smelled of him, massaging your scalp, rubbing the knots from your lower tummy.

After that session, you would be sore for days to come. The thought brought a smile to your face.

Alastor wrapped you in a warm cotton towel as you exited. Wrapping another around his waist, he kissed your forehead and headed for the kitchen. The demon sent Rolf on an errand to secure you more clothes - a distraction so Alastor could prepare you a cup of real coffee. He knew you hated waking up without one.

You promised to join him in a moment, but the sight in the mirror held you captive. The bruises… You felt your throat tighten, the anxiety bubbling in your core. Alastor had left bruises on your neck before, yes, but things were different now. These marks meant something different than the usual bruises ringing your neck - not from Alastor, but from Heaven. These… Well… These came from a place of… Well, affection. Not from a place of hate.

You were used to covering up bruises of hate.

Running a finger over your neck, you connected the spots as if they were dots, leading to the bite mark at the crook of your neck. You smiled, remembering how you had earned that one, hoping the mark would never fade.

“Coffee is on the balcony,” Alastor appeared in the mirror, leaning against the doorframe.

His wet hair stuck to his head which made him seem so much younger than he appeared. The demon was technically over a hundred years old but remained youthful-looking as a demon. Perhaps “younger” wasn’t the best adjective. “More innocent” was a better descriptor.

Alastor frowned, sensing the worry building in your chest. God, he could read you like a book - connection or no connection. “What’s wrong?”

You watched the muscles ripple in his abdomen as he stalked towards you, his hands cupping either side of your cheeks. At some point, he had thrown on a pair of lounge pants, a rich man’s sweatpants, that sat low enough on his hips for you to make out the “V” in his pelvis. Curse this man for always looking attractive no matter what he wore. Your mind flashed to Alastor in a nun’s outfit - yup, attractive in fucking EVERYTHING.

Taking a deep breath, you let your anxiety melt away, feeling instantly more calm by his touch alone.

“My neck,” you begin. “I have a history of… trying to hide my injuries. I…” Fuck, words weren’t coming to you. “I’m just not used to… this.” You motioned to your neck, resisting the urge to rub it.

Alastor liked seeing your neck, liked reminiscing about each one. It was weird; it didn’t sit right. Your instincts were screaming at the sight of them.

Understanding clicked in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain, mon couer. Would you prefer if I did not…”

“No!” You interrupt him. “God, no.” You would never deny Alastor wringing an ounce of pleasure from your body. It would be torture for you both. “I just need some time to get used to it. You won’t be mad if I cover them, will you?”

“Hmm,” Alastor collected your hair in his hands, throwing it over your left shoulder. “I never want you doing anything that makes you uncomfortable. That being said, I would like to reserve the right to admire your body…” His meets your gaze. “...with your permission, of course?”

A smile tugged at your lips, “Of course.”

Alastor led you to the balcony, seating you on the side you had always sat in - it was practically reserved for you at this point. Two cups of coffee sat on the table between you, but it was the newspaper your fingers went for first.

“Shadow Unmasked!” The title read. The front page has a picture of you, standing on the roof of V Tower, moments before Velvette delivered a shock. You looked absolutely pissed. You read through the article as fast as you could, trying to garner how much Pentagram City had learned about your identity.

They named you as Thestral

They identified you as an Angel

They called you Vox’s ex-girlfriend (Not his girlfriend!!!)

Alastor’s lover!?

You choked. “Is the piano player sleeping her way through Hell’s topmost Overlords to gain power?” You read. “Witnesses report Ms. Thestral, the piano player at Mimzy’s and Hell’s infamous masked Overlord, ran off with Alastor, the Radio Demon, moments after sharing a kiss on the battlefield. Has the infamous assassin traded in for a more powerful model? Will she sleep her way through the Overlords till she reaches Zestial himself?” You abruptly stood from your chair. “You have got to be kidding me!?”

“Read who the editor is, mon couer.”

“Velvette!” You crushed the newspaper between your fingers and set V Star News to ash with your flame.

“She destroys by reputation,” Alastor once said to you. And he was right.

You collapsed back into the seat, running your hands down your face. Great. Now all of Pentagram City thinks you’re a whore. Better they go after that than going after the whole Angel thing.

Alastor pulled another newspaper from the Void, this one being 666 New’s very own. This title read, “Vees Humiliated in Overlord Fight!” Below that, there was a subtitle, “Shadow Identity Brought to Light.” Huh, that was actually kind of clever. You skimmed through the article, noting the same things V Star News had written but without all the biases.

“Hours after the fight in the Entertainment District, the Radio Demon and the Shadow were spotted duking it out in the Magne District. Sources say they quickly disappeared mid-fight and haven’t been spotted since. Was it a quarrel over power or a fight between lovers? The result and reason for the battle is still unknown.”

Great…

You flipped the page to find a special interview with Mimzy. Of course, they already found her, and of course, she had already offered an exclusive interview. News travels fast in Hell.

Most of it was filled with lies, saying you were close, basically calling you an adopted daughter - absolutely not - her most prized possession. Okay, basically, she was kissing ass to the media to gain more foot traffic to her club. She even gives out the password to Bob’s Barber in the article! Ugh, whatever.

Wait, what does this mean for the Hotel?

Oh God, hopefully, the gang isn’t being stalked by the media…

There’s a smaller section on you in the Opinion column, the topic “Who is the Angel?”

“Oh, my God.” You scoff. “There’s literally people making shit up! One of these guys is theorizing that I’m Lilith - which I look nothing like her - with a makeover. There’s another in here that says I’m actually a gender-swapped Lucifer.”

Okay, that one you get. Some religious texts literally claim the two of you as twins - you did look a lot alike.

“Another is saying I’m a bloodthirsty Exorcist Angel who snuck past Heaven’s gates so I could kill year-round. This one just says I’m actually Charlie, and the news media is just reporting it wrong. I mean, ugh!”

Jesus, these people had some wild theories but now you had an entire City trying to figure out your identity. Fuck!

Great, your to do list was getting longer and longer now.

Find cloak

Apologize to Lulu

Kill Crim

And now

4. Protect your identity

Shit.

You dropped the newspaper, your head in your hands. Getting Alastor back was worth everything you had to go through. So long as Heaven didn’t find out…

Alastor suddenly appeared before you, down on one knee. He collected your hands in his and kissed your palms, “Everything will work out, mon couer.”

Alastor didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by this news… Why was that?

Hesitantly, you ask. “What did you do?”

The demon’s smile went cockeyed. God, you loved that smile.

There was a mischievous gleam in his eye as he said, “Utilizing your army.”

You tried not to let the shock show. “How did you…?”

“The Vees have more enemies than allies at this point. Their bridges have been burned. They have no one to turn to. Their fate has been one of their own making, even before Valentino’s death. Which did not garner sympathy as they expected it to.”

“Rosie, Mimzy, and Carmella would back you no matter what, but you already know that. Zestial has already expressed interest in allying with you...”

“What!?” You gasped, but Alastor continued.

“...although the man is more gossip than fighter nowadays. Then there is the Goetia, although it is unclear how many you have in your pocket, seeing as Stolas is considered the black sheep of his kind. I’m sure your influence has reached far beyond Wrath and Pride: Asmodeus, Levi, Mammon, Belphegor, and perhaps even Satan himself? Allies, I can guarantee, who will not change their mind regardless of your heritage. If anything, they’d be more inclined to ally with you. Well, save for Asmodeus, but he has far more concerning things on his plate at the moment, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

You blinked, trying to process the words coming out of his mouth. How the fuck did he know all this? Wait, how did he know they wouldn’t drop your alliance after this development? Not unless Alastor… Fuck did he meddle in your plans!?

“Your Heaven contacts surely won’t hear of this - especially considering, as far as Heaven is concerned, you disappeared around the same time God did. Rumor has it the two of you are on some sort of top-secret mission only known to the Seraphim and other higher authorities. Besides, Lilith is up there taking care of anything anyway.”

“What…?”

“I haven’t even touched Charlie and the Hotel. Your influence over your niece and her gang of misfits is extraordinary. You made quite the impression, securing emotional ties via my rescue. I couldn’t have planned it better myself. To have little Ms. Morningstar in your back pocket, oh! How I envy you.” Alastor laughed, but it was Radio Demon's laugh that echoed through his radio.

“I assure you, while the two of us were… preoccupied with other matters, your army had already been hard at work cleaning up the damage.”

You let all the information sink in, trying to process how Alastor could have possibly known you were raising an army. I mean, that was step two of your plan with Lilith, wasn’t it? While she played her part in Heaven, you were down here, garnering influence amongst the most powerful.

“Darling, while you were busy running around town and playing house the past few weeks, I made some social calls.”

Alastor was checking up on you while Rolf stalked your every move…

“I know for a fact you didn’t only become Overlord to collect souls - after all, someone like you, with such a well of power in her back pocket, doesn’t require the measly drop of power with which a soul contributes.” Alastor laughed again, his tone turning more cynical. “No, you have all the power you need. You’re garnering souls to feed your army.”

Fuck.

Alastor’s green aura lowly emits from his form, his smile stitched over with green threading, his eyes flashing with black sclera. “The question now is, why does Heaven’s famous Golden Girl require an army?”

You once said dealing with Alastor was like a dance - a dance you both pretended not to be leading but also refused to be the follower in. It was a game of power, you see. Yes, dancing had its steps and rules - a waltz is a waltz, after all - but the direction it was going, the added flare to the spins, the story the choreography told - that was where you battled. Thus, you needed to be a half-step ahead of Alastor at all times - without him knowing, of course - until either the dance ended or you found a way to end him.

Little did you know, he has been hard at work behind the scenes attempting to unravel your little plan. Alastor was one step ahead of you in a way you didn’t see coming.

And he was hitting awfully close to your ultimate endgame plan…

But the fact that Alastor was asking rather than stating meant -.

“Lilith didn’t tell you everything, did she?”

Alastor’s eye twitches, his fingers around yours stiff and unmoving. His tail went ramrod straight, his radio screeching as if a record had been scratched.

Note to self: Tread lightly when it comes to bringing up Lilith.

The demon stood, pretending to wipe dirt off the knees of his pants. “Rolf is here with your clothes.”

Great…

You had thought, after connecting Alastor and Lilith together, that he was her little backup plan in case things went south: a protector for her family. Regardless of the fact that, in your contract, you swore not to hurt them. After all, why return and run straight to the Hotel if not for Charlie’s sake?

But maybe you were wrong…

You stood, cautiously approaching the demon who refused to make eye contact with you. God, you hated seeing him without his smile, hated when that spark fizzled out in his eyes. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting your fingers play with the short scruff at the base of his head. Instantly, the stress melted from his shoulders.

His gaze was still on the floor when you said, “And what if I’m perfectly fine in nothing but a bathrobe?”

The demon smirked, his demeanor changing in an instant.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you flush against him. “And if I prefer you in nothing at all?” He whispered against your lips.

“I’d say you’d have to earn it,” you stayed just out of reach of his kiss, teasing the demon in the same way he did you earlier.

“And how exactly would I do that, mon couer?”

You bit your lip, instantly catching Alastor’s eye. God, were you ready for the next round? You’ve barely had time to recover, your lower belly sore from Alastor’s… lack of gentleness… “Perhaps we should start with the smaller stuff before unraveling each other’s master plans?”

Alastor pressed a kiss to your forehead before walking the two of you towards his chair. “Where would you like to start?” He brought you into his lap, seating you atop his thighs. You tried hard not to think about the thin layer of clothing separating your center from his cock - which you couldn’t feel at the moment. The demon seated you closer to his knees, most likely on purpose.

“Well, for one, you used my card.” After finally taking out the projectiles Crim had shot at you, you landed on the edge of Cannibal Town. While zapping Vox’s bracelet from your wrist, you felt a pull behind your navel - Alastor had used his blood on your obsidian calling card.

Which meant Alastor had inadvertently entered himself into one of your infamous hidden contracts.

The demon pulled the card from the Void, flashing the white lettering spelling out his real name. “You mean this one?” A drop of scarlet remained crusted at its center.

“Don’t lose that; it comes with conditions,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and continuing to play with the scruff of his hair. “Those who lose my card forget their memories of me.”

“Noted,” he smiled, slipping the card back into the Void and running his hands over your hips. You gasped when his claws scraped across the flesh of your waist. Alastor had dipped beneath the robe…

Goddamn, it was getting too hard to think. The demon gave a look that said he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Next matter of business,” he continued. “Show me.”

You knew exactly what he was talking about.

You hesitated, the bubbles of anxiety in your chest beginning to surface as you remembered last night. Was this smart to do? He was knocked out of the bloodthirsty trance once, would he be again? Would he even need to again?

Then a thought hit you, a lesson you learned in Louisiana: trust means everything to Alastor. So, did you trust him not to try and kill you again? If you didn’t show him, what would that say?

Dipping into that well of power, you broke the seal on the rune, allowing the Book of Knowledge to be unleashed. Alastor was completely captivated by the text flying across your skin, but he remained contained. No ounce of his demonic power slipped out. He remained calm, his irises solid round pupils.

The demon grabbed your hand in his, tracing the words as they floated past. Your heart felt like it was going to thump right out of your chest as you waited for him to say something, anything.

You concentrated the power into the palm of your hand that he held, the ink bleeding into your appendage until your entire arm was black. The liquid seemed to seep out of your skin, shielding your arm in a black tendril. The power flowed over your skin as if it were both solid and liquid, a Newtonian fluid that could cut bone.

Something clicked within the demon’s aura, his awe abating as he closed your fist. You called the magic back into the rune, the aroma of roses dissipating as the Book of Knowledge was once again hidden from the world.

Alastor pressed a kiss to your closed knuckles. “Hmm,” he hummed into your skin.

“Are you okay?” You breathed, still waiting for a reply, something to tell you what he was thinking.

He met your gaze, his eyes still round, irises rimmed in red. “I do not crave it the way I did yesterday. The thought of losing you, of losing my heart,” he cupped your cheek. “Is a greater pain than the allure of power could ever have over me.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch to deepen the feeling. And then suddenly, your own heart grew heavy, a truth you had always wanted to share but never had with another soul. Eve had simply inferred it, but you never really talked about it, never really addressed that aspect of trauma that had haunted your entire existence.

Why you wanted this power in the first place.

“Did your sleuthing uncover other things about Heaven’s Golden Girl?” You braced the subject, hoping Alastor understood the weight of the topic you were about to unleash upon him.

But you could trust him, and he trusted you. Fuck, you had a fail-safe if anything ever went wrong - take your obsidian calling card away from him - but your chest twisted at the thought. You couldn’t help it. You were a General through and through, strategizing was instinct at this point. You never, ever wanted to have a Plan B when it came to Alastor. Which is why you decided to broach this topic with him. Something you’ve never truly spoken of with anyone else.

“Hmm,” he hummed, running his thumb across your cheek. “I know.”

He knows. Of course, he knows. It’s Heaven’s worst-kept secret: God was wildly abusive towards his “favorite” child.

“The day Eve tried to leave Eden, is a day I saw true fear on my father’s face. He smelled of orange and mint. It was… unsettling.” You cleared your throat. “I never really understood why until Eve was brought in and locked away. When she told him she merged herself with the Book - Father wasn’t mad. He was… afraid. He had us lock her up. Hidden away where no one would find her. Fuck, Heaven didn’t have cells. No one ever committed any crimes. If they were the type, they’d have been sent to Hell long before St. Paul let them through the Gates.”

You huffed, continuing, “For weeks after, Father shut himself in his office. He wouldn’t have Sera or me in. After a while things did go back to normal, but he was never the same. I mean, he was violent before, but after… There was this rage in his eyes when he’d…” Your voice breaks. “My father knew hunting down Eve a second time was going to take time, and he was not a patient man, but the longer I took, the worse it got. I’d go back for check-ins, and as one year became two, three, five, ten, fifty… He grew more and more desperate. His desperation manifested as violence, and he took it out on me.”

Alastor rubbed your arms in comfort.

“I didn’t get it until that day in Lilith’s office when I killed Eve and accepted the power for myself. The magic is the rawest form of dark magic I have ever seen - and I spent nearly a century with the Leviathans…”

He planted a kiss on your forehead, infusing you with the will to continue on.

“Father made me do terrible, terrible things: spread disease amongst the pharaohs, wipe out an entire planet of innocent, living beings in a flood, start wars resulting in the deaths of millions of people across the Middle East… I was no Golden Girl. I was the harbinger of death, whether I liked it or not… Regardless of the evils he made me commit, it paled in comparison to the pure evil that is the Book of Knowledge.”

“It took me until the power was in my possession to figure it out. I know why he was so afraid of it. It’s the Yin to his Yang, the dark to his supposed light. The opposite, but equal in every possible way. A power that can kill a god.”

Alastor’s eyes snapped to yours, and instantly, he understood. “You’re raising an army to kill God.”

You smiled wildly, shaking your head. “Oh, no. I am raising an army to end everything, and then afterward, ~I~ will kill God.”

Alastor furrowed his brow.

“You see, Eve merely wanted to taint my Father’s creation. To punish him by ruining his greatest work, but she was thinking too small. I wanted more. I needed more. I didn’t just want to make Heaven’s head spin; I wanted to utterly destroy everything they had worked for." You leaned over him, your nose tickling his. "But - oh, no, I couldn’t simply burn Earth to the ground. Heaven would be upset, sure, but they’d get over it and just make another. No. I needed Heaven to destroy Earth by their own hand. They hate Hell. They hate it so much they’d go to war - if provoked - and when the dust settled, they’d have to face the consequences.”

Father would be utterly destroyed.

And then you’d burn him from the inside out. Fuck, even the thought of it had your blood singing.

“The End. Armageddon. The Apocalypse.” Your hands fisted in his hair. You could feel the demon growing hard beneath you, the excitement of chaos and destruction just as erotically intoxicating for him as it was for you. “Whatever you wish to call it. A war between Heaven and Hell, a war that would destroy Earth.”

“Oh, mon couer,” Alastor’s lips slowly twisted into a wicked grin. He looked at you with eyes screaming possession, screaming pride, screaming hunger. The demon cupped your face in his hands, utterly beaming at you, the highest form of praise he could offer. “You are absolutely beautiful.”

And then he kissed you.

And in that kiss, you realized one terrifying truth. No matter what Hell was coming your way, it wouldn’t be the same without Alastor. You would choose power and chaos with Alastor over everything else because, with him, you didn’t need an army, you didn’t need the Book of Knowledge, you were already unstoppable.

He is yours, and you are his.

The demon quickly undoes the ties of your robe, exposing your bare breasts to the world. Your nipples instantly harden in the cool air. Alastor quickly pulls down his pants, a giant wet mark forming directly below where you sat. God, you were soaked already, high on the ecstasy of power flowing through your veins.

You pray Papa Loko's vèvè had coverage this far away. You hadn't checked to see if you were sparking, but fuck it, you weren't stopping.

Alastor doesn’t even have to bother with foreplay. The two of you could scent each other's arousal, thick in the air. You were ready, and you wanted him - NOW.

You gasp when Alastor shoves inside you, filling you up, his balls sitting snuggly against you.

There was something so satisfying in sitting on Alastor’s cock in the shadow of V Tower.

“Mine,” Alastor growled as he lifted your hips up and slammed into you. “You’re fucking mine.”

And he spends the rest of the day reminding you exactly why…

The amount of smut I read trying to figure out how to write this...

-> Chapter Sixteen

Tagged Hoteliers (Let me know if you want to be added!):

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