#then i woke up before we actually debated

[roseworth]

i LOVE dream talk its my favorite conversation topic ever. whenever someone starts a sentence with "last night i had a dream" i am tuned in and listening. tell me everything i will never get bored of hearing the shit that happens in your dreams

[giannaln4]

Nursed By Love

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Lando got sick during the first race of the triple header and you made it your mission to take care of him.  (2.7k words)

warnings: stablished relationship, fluff, sick!lando, taking a shower together (not in a sexual way), use of Y/N

a/n: not gonna lie, this turned out shorter than i expected 😭 i wanted to write more and include the entire weekend but i literally couldn't come up with more, i’m sorry if it feels a little rushed but i hope you still like it!

check out the original request here! also, this is somewhat of a prequel to my fic Sick; it has a couple of references here and there but it can be read as a standalone.

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Lando woke up before you, something that was normal in your relationship given the strict agenda he had to follow almost on a daily basis. He checked his phone to see how much time left he had before having to get up, sighing when he realised his alarm would go off soon. 

He valued his sleep, like a lot, so he figured he wouldn't let those few minutes go to waste, so he pulled the covers again up to his neck, but he was feeling a little colder than usual, so he did what he usually does: he reached for you and pulled you into him, embracing you so lovingly.

This made you wake up, slowly opening your eyes to get used to the light. “Hey,” you whispered, not completely sure if he was awake.

"Sorry, baby,” he said with a sleepy voice as his nose nudged into the crook of your neck.

“It’s okay. What time is it?”

“Almost time to go, actually.”

“Okay, let’s get going then.” You said, pulling away from his embrace, making him whine as he quickly reached for your arm.

“No, let’s stay in bed a little longer,” he looked at you with his sweet eyes as he tried to convince you to go back to him.

“I don’t want us to be late again.”

“We won’t. We still have a few minutes, I promise.”

With that, you cuddled him again, this time facing him. After all, how could you possibly say no to him? “Okay, but as soon as the alarm goes off, we are getting up.”

"Yes, ma’am,” he replied happily as he buried his face on your neck again, enjoying the way you were scratching his scalp. 

Truth is, he was feeling more tired than usual. Sure, he always hated having to wake up early, but something about the way he was feeling that day wasn’t right. You felt it too; his skin against your neck was hotter than it normally was.

“You okay?”

He shook his head, hugging you tighter. “I think I’m getting sick.”

You pulled away again, the back of your hand falling on his forehead. “Baby, you have a fever.” He just hummed in response as he tried to get you to go back to your previous position. “Lando, I’m being serious. You can’t just ignore it.”

“It’s not like I can call in sick.” 

“I know, but you can’t go around all day without at least taking something. What else are you feeling?” You asked, worried eyes looking back at him.

“I’m just cold… and tired.”

“Okay, I’ll run to get you something, and you start getting ready. Sounds good?” 

He immediately shook his head and, once again, tried to cuddle you. “You promised we’d stay here until the alarm went off.”

“I know, my love, but this is the first race of the triple header, and you need to be okay. You shouldn’t do it while being sick,” you said, rubbing his check softly. “I’ll meet you at the track, yeah?”

“No, please. Let’s just cuddle for a bit longer,” he insisted. 

You sighed, debating in your mind what you should do. On one hand, you knew he wouldn’t give up, and it really couldn’t hurt to just cuddle him for a little while; he really needed it after all, but on the other, he really needed to take something so he wouldn’t feel that way for the rest of the weekend—not only that, but the two other weekends he had ahead of him.

“It’s only media day. I’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” you finally gave in, “but I’m serious, you have to take something.”

“I will. I will get checked later today at the track. Don’t worry,” he reassured you. 

“Yeah, I’ll make sure of that.” You went back to your cuddly position as your hand caressed the back of his head.

“I know you will.”

The minutes went by too quickly to his liking, the alarm going off just moments later. To him, it felt like 5 seconds, not 5 minutes. He groaned when you started to get up, leaving the warmth and comfort of the hotel bed to start getting ready for the day.

“We had a deal, c’mon,” you said, offering him your hand. He took it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to.

“I wish we could stay here all day.” He stood in front of you and cupped your face as his thumbs caressed your cheeks.

“Aw, I know, my love, but the day will be over before you know it, and we can come back later to cuddle a little more, okay?”

He just nodded and made his way to the bathroom. You both started getting ready quickly, knowing the car that would take you to the track was probably already downstairs waiting for you.

Once you had everything you needed, he took your hand and gave it a little kiss, whispering a soft “Okay, time to go” before leaving the room.

You got to the track, and he immediately had to start doing things for the weekend that awaited him; you knew he wouldn’t get checked or take something unless you were on his hair about it, so you thought telling Jon would be a good idea.

It was hard to find a moment to go to the clinic due to their busy schedule, but you were able to finally drag him there.

You were standing close to him as he dangled his feet on the small bed, getting his throat checked by the doctor.

“It seems like you have a cough, nothing too serious,” the doctor said as she stepped away from him, writing something on the piece of paper attached to the wooden board where she was writing down his symptoms. “I will give you some medicine; take this right now, and then make sure you take it every 8 hours. Something for the fever too, in case you feel sick later, but only take one, and only if you get a fever. Also some painkillers; have you had any headaches?”

“A little bit, last night.”

“Any other thing you have been feeling?”

“I think that’s all.”

“Alright, that should be all then. Drink a lot of fluids and stay away from any alcohol or smoking. It’s not too bad, but if anything comes up, you know where to find me.”

Lando was just nodding, but you paid attention to everything she said, making a mental note of how to take care of him. 

Once they were done with all the paperwork, you left the clinic, Lando holding everything the doctor had prescribed. 

“I will hold on to those, thank you,” you said, taking all the medicine and putting it in your bag, safe and sound. You checked the time and set a reminder for 8 hours, so you didn’t forget about the cough medicine.

“Thank you, my love,” he said before kissing the top of your head.

You looked up at him with a smile, feeling sad that he got sick at the beginning of the triple header. You knew how demanding his job was and how demanding he was on himself, so it wouldn’t be a smooth recovery, so the least you could do was help him however you could.

“Lando, we have to get going. I think they are already waiting for us,” Jon said as he typed something on his phone.

The rest of the day was a little boring, which was expected considering Lando and Oscar had to spend all day talking to people or recording some videos and interviews, but you never left his side, just in case he needed something or started to feel sick again. Any time he was away from the people or cameras, you immediately ran up to him, your hand landing somewhere on his skin to make sure he didn’t have a fever.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still a little tired, and my throat is starting to bother me again. But other than that, all good.”

“Oh, is it too bad?”

“Not too bad; I guess all the talking isn’t really helping,” he chuckled, in hopes of not worrying you too much, but you couldn’t help it, and he knew that.

“I figured. You should drink some water,” you handed him the bottle you had been holding all day. He took it and drank the water that was left, thankful that you made sure to have it on you the whole time.  “Where are we going now?”

“We are staying here. We have a couple more things to do.” You nodded, holding his hand for just a moment since someone called his name from the other side of the room. “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Okay.” You let go of his hand, watching as he joined Oscar and some other people on a big couch. They were talking about the next video they had to film, so since he was busy with his job, you figured you could step away for a moment.

You wandered around as you looked up what the best tea was to help with a sore throat. Once you settled on ginger, you looked everywhere for it, but it wasn’t as common as you hoped. You did manage to find some, finally, and you ran back to the McLaren hospitality so you could give it to him. Thankfully, when you found him, he was just scrolling on his phone, sitting away from everyone.

“Hey, I brought you some tea. This should help your sore throat.” He looked up from his phone to take the disposable cup you were holding. “It might not be as hot as it should be, but it should still do the trick,” you said nervously.

“What is it?” He asked, sniffing it.

“Ginger.”

“Ginger? Where did you find ginger tea?”

“You don’t wanna know,” you said as you sat on his lap.

“Thanks, darling,” he whispered before taking a sip, clearing his throat afterwards. 

“You should drink all of it.”

“It’s a little spicy. Do you want to try?” He said, offering you the cup.

“No, I don’t want your germs,” you joked, making him laugh. You laughed with him, enjoying the little glimpse of his dimple.

“I’m afraid you got those when we kissed.”

It wasn’t instant, but the tea definitely helped. The rest of the day went on quicker since all the major stuff got done in the morning, so before you knew it, you were already back at the hotel.

“Lando, take this.” You were taking out the bag of medicine you got from the doctor that morning, picking up the bottle that he was supposed to drink every 8 hours.

“What is it?”

“Your medicine, silly. It’s time.”

He made a disgusted face as he took it. “It tastes horrible.”

“I know, but you can’t skip it.” You stood there until he was done, an even more disgusted look adorning his face. “Are you feeling better than this morning?”

He nodded, giving you back the bottle since he knew you wanted to keep all his medicine together. “Will you take a shower with me?” He asked out of nowhere. You raised your eyebrows at his question, and he realized how it came across so immediately clarified. “Not for that reason.”

You couldn’t hold your laugh, but you quickly realised he just needed help. “Do you want me to help wash your hair?”

“Please.If you are okay with it.” 

You followed him to the bathroom, turning on the water and making sure it was warm and nice  while he discarded his clothes. He stepped in first, letting out a small moan when the warm water started to cover his body. He offered you his hand once you got naked, his strong arms wrapping around your body when you joined him.

You stayed like that for a moment, until you pulled away to gently massage his scalp. 

“This is nice,” he cooed, his eyes closing as he relaxed at the feeling.

“Mhmm, I’m glad, baby.”

“Are we going to sleep after this?” His eyes met yours as he awaited for your answer, smiling when you nodded. “Good, you promised some cuddles this morning.”

“I know, I haven’t forgotten.” It warmed your heart that he had been looking forward to it, but it broke it at the same time because, even though he always asked for it, you knew it was different this time. “Bent down a little for me,” you instructed as you reached for the shampoo and squeezed some on your hand. He did as you asked, leaving his head in perfect reach for you.

Your fingertips went back to massage his scalp gently as you made sure you covered all of it. He was humming at your touch, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the soothing sensation.

“Does your head hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted, “not too bad, though.” You looked at him with sad eyes, wishing you could take his pain away and take it yourself.

“Okay, I will give you something for that, and then we can go to bed, okay?” 

You continued helping him for the rest of the shower, and then he offered to help you the same way you did. You accepted, but it did take a little longer considering you had a lot more hair than he did, but he was happy to do it. When you were both done, you stepped back into the bathroom, handing him a towel and making him sit on the little stool in front of one of the mirrors.

With tired eyes, Lando met your gaze through the mirror, paying attention to your every move as you dried his hair. He loved the way your face scrunched when you were focused, sticking out your tongue from time to time. You were being so gentle with him that he almost felt like crying, but he held those emotions back, not wanting to worry you even more than you already were.

Once his hair was fully dried and you helped him with most of his nightly routine, you guided him to the bedroom and gave him a pill for his headache, letting him get under the covers afterwards. He dragged you with him, pulling you into a hug as soon as you got there.

“Can we do this every night?” He asked, his face burying in your neck as he usually does.

“Of course. Anything you want, my love. Are you comfortable?” You asked, a smile spreading across your face when he nodded.

“Thank you,” he whispered after a moment of silence, his mind drifting off into a peaceful sleep as you massaged his muscles.

Lando fell asleep almost instantly, allowing you to go to sleep once you made sure he was fully knocked out for the night. 

A few hours went by, both of you enjoying each other’s warmth, until the sound of an alarm interrupted your sleep. You groaned as you reached for your phone to turn it off, but immediately sat up and grabbed his medicine.

Lando shuffled next to you, groaning too as he slightly opened his eyes to quickly scan the room. “It’s still dark outside, why do you have an alarm?” He asked, his voice sleepy and his eyes half closed as he looked at you.

“Sorry, love, it’s time for your medicine again.” 

He sat up and took the little spoon you were offering him, his sleepy state saving him from the terrible taste it had. Once he was done, he fell on his pillow again and pulled into him, going back to your previous position.

“Thank you for taking care of me. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Even though the sleep was evident in his voice, you could still hear how truly thankful he was.

You placed your hands on each of his cheeks, causing his eyes to flutter shut in contentment. “Of course, what type of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t?” A soft kiss was pressed to his forehead before he brought you closer to him, a little ‘I love you’ scaping his lips as he went back to sleep.

[reneeyaps]

coffee - leah williamson

inspired by the song ‘coffee’ by chappell roan.

warnings: angst, slightly suggestive content.

1.8k words.

leah williamson x reader.

Life looked a lot different these days. It seemed so long ago since the last time you’d genuinely smiled, since the last time you’d said you were fine and had actually meant it.

It’d been three months since you and your girlfriend of two years, Leah Williamson, had broken up, and yet it felt like you’d lived a lifetime without her. You were still awfully aware of the cold, empty spot beside you when you woke in the mornings, the absence of Leah’s presence at the dining table worsening that shard of grief you felt in your gut. That was your sanctuary, the place where you used to talk about your days and share secrets and stories and giggle about the most ridiculous things. Every day you went into the kitchen, still hoping to see Leah already up and dressed in her Arsenal training kit, pouting when you’d walked in on her making breakfast for you when she’d wanted to surprise you in bed. You’d leave for work every day and found you were still startled to see that her coat was not hanging next to yours on its usual peg, the framed pictures of the two of you no longer hanging on the walls.

It was as if there’d never been any trace of another person residing in this house with you, but the memories were still engrained in your mind, and the pain was unlike anything you’d experienced before.

‘Can't meet you for dinner at the Italian place

It's where I met your family, some words were exchanged

I'd suggest the jazz bar on MaryAnn Street but

You'd buy me a drink and we know where that leads, so’

Getting out of the house didn’t help, especially when everywhere you went you were reminded of the places you’d visited together, the memories you’d made. As you turned the corner, your eyes fell on the small Italian restaurant where you’d met Leah’s family for the first time. You remembered how anxious you were that night, how desperate you were to make a good impression. You’d stood in the mirror, staring at your reflection and debating whether or not you needed to change again when Leah had entered the bedroom, snaking her arms around your waist and planting a trail of kisses on your neck and shoulder.

“You look gorgeous,” she’d said, resting her chin on your shoulder and grinning at you in the mirror. You immediately felt yourself relax a little, a smile creeping its way onto your face. Leah had always been good at reassuring you, able to calm your racing heart and spiralling thoughts in a way no one else could. She’d insisted that her family were going to love you, and she’d been right. They’d been so warm and welcoming from the moment you entered the restaurant, and you eased into conversation with them as if you’d known them for years.

And how could they not love you when it was evident how much Leah adored you? She couldn’t take her eyes off you and insisted on holding your hand the entire evening, running her thumb soothingly over your skin, the gesture bringing a smile to your lips.

‘I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you want me, I know that's a lie

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your place.’

A month after you and Leah had split, you’d unintentionally ran into each other at a mutual friend’s party. You’d intended to try and ignore her, knowing talking to her and hearing her voice and seeing her smile would just make things a million times harder. You’d overestimated your own willpower, though, soon finding yourself in Leah’s company once again.

She asked if you wanted to go back to hers for a drink, and like a fool you’d said ‘yes’. A couple of glasses of wine later, and you two were making out on Leah’s sofa, tangled up in each other’s arms. “I still want you, you know?” Leah had whispered, her hands trailing down to undo the buttons on your jeans.

“Then why did you leave?” You asked breathlessly.

Leah paused, her eyes shooting upwards to meet your gaze. “y/n…” She sighed. You studied her face, noticing the sadness in her eyes. How had you not noticed it sooner, how broken she was? You’d been so caught up in your own pain and despair that you’d failed to consider how she was holding up.

Leah pulled away, and immediately you missed her being close to you, not realising just how much you’d craved her touch. “I think it’s best if you leave,” Leah said, looking at anything but you, “before we do something we both regret.”

‘You said let's do the park 'cause I love the park

That may be true but god forbid it gets dark

Here come the excuses that fuel the illusions

But I'd rather feel something than nothing at all, so’

You’d wasted no time in calling an Uber for yourself, fleeing from Leah’s apartment and trying desperately not to let the tears flow in the back of the car. It just wasn’t fair — how could she do this to you?! You’d been naive enough to think that you and Leah were for forever, that you’d end up getting married and growing old together, content in each other’s company until the end of time.

A few days after the party, you saw Leah again. This time the pair of you crossed paths in the park where you were walking your neighbour’s dog. You tried to act like you hadn’t seen Leah, staring straight ahead and picking up the pace, but Leah caught up to you easily enough, her hand circling around your wrist and bringing you to a halt. You whipped your head around. “Leave me alone,” you told her. You’d wanted to act tough, but your voice faltered, and it sounded like you were pleading more than you were telling.

You snatched your wrist from her grasp and started to walk away, but still Leah followed you. “y/n, wait!” She called. “I just wanted to apologise —”

“For what?” You demanded. “For your actions the other night? Or for breaking my heart?”

Leah’s eyes brimmed with tears that she quickly blinked away. Her gaze fell to the ground, unable to look at you and the mixture of heartbreak and anger displayed on your face. “Both…I’m so sorry, y/n.” And then she turned and walked away without another word, leaving you with another emotion you hadn’t yet experienced in your heartache — anger.

‘I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you're sorry, I know that's a lie

If I didn't trust you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your-’

Back to the present day, and you were walking through the familiar streets, trying not to think about how the smell of freshly baked bread wafting from the bakery reminded you of the many mornings you and Leah shared croissants and coffee before you dropped her off at training. The city was alive with the sound of laughter and clinking glasses from nearby restaurants. You paid no attention to it, lost in thought with your bag of groceries in hand.

That was when you turned the corner and suddenly collided with someone.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” You exclaimed, looking up to apologise. When you saw who you’d had the misfortune of bumping into, your breath caught in your throat. “Leah?” You said, your voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.

“Y/n?” Leah’s eyes widened, a flicker of something — sadness, perhaps — passing through them. For a second the pair of you just stood there staring at each other, you feeling as though you’d forgotten how to breathe, Leah awkwardly scratching the back of her neck, and both of you unable to form a sentence.

“How have you been?” Leah asked eventually.

“I’ve been…good,” the lie rolled off your tongue easily enough, you had grown accustomed to it by now, after all, “busy with work and everything. What about you?”

“Same here…busy but good. Got a game coming up this weekend.” Leah met your gaze. “I’d love it if you could make it.”

“Leah —”

“Sorry, no…that was silly of me. Um…” Leah shook her head and sighed. “How about we go get some coffee? There’s a little cafe just down the street, you know the one where we had our first date?”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” You asked, your voice gentler now.

“Probably not…but I’ve missed you, y/n.”

You contemplated her offer, every part of you desperately wanting to say yes. Realistically, though, you had to weigh up the potential consequences that might arise from agreeing to have coffee with Leah, remembering how much harder it was for you after you’d found yourself in Leah’s arms once again the night of your friend’s party. Seeing her again was just a reminder of everything you wanted, but everything you could not have. You had to say no.

‘We've done this before

And I don't need it anymore’

“We can’t, Leah,” you said eventually. Your heart broke at the sight of the sullen look on Leah’s face. “I mean you remember what happened last time —”

“It’s just coffee, y/n.”

“I know. But I don’t know if I can trust myself not to get too attached. I can’t let myself go there, Leah. Not again.” Your voice conveyed the ache you felt in your heart, the weeks of emotional turmoil you’d had to endure as you tried your best to carry on as if nothing had happened, as if you weren’t grieving what could have been. “Losing you is the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

Leah didn’t say anything. She knew deep down that you were right, and she knew that she deserved this rejection, that she only had herself to blame for the pain she’d put you through. She gave you a sad smile — God you missed how warm it used to be — and nodded her head. “I understand…”

You stepped forwards and kissed her cheek. “Take care of yourself, Leah.”

“You too, Y/N.”

It took every ounce of strength you had to walk away, to leave her there and not completely crumble. And as you crossed the street, you realised it was likely you’d never get over Leah. No matter how much time would pass, you’d probably never cease to question what could have been if things had been different, if you’d only fought harder to make things work.

‘So let's not do coffee, let's not even try

It’s better we leave it and give it some time

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

'Cause If we do coffee, it's never just coffee

It's never just coffee.’

[the-winter-spider]

What I Have | B. Barnes

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Probably the fluffiest piece ive written lol

A/N: I was listening to What I Have by Kelsea Ballerini and well here we are lol

—-

The year was 2024, over one hundred years since you were born—105, to be exact. Your life hadn’t turned out at all like you had dreamed or hoped it would.

You were supposed to marry the boy next door once the war was done. You’d picked out your wedding dress while window shopping with your best friend, even before he proposed. You made a scrapbook, meticulously curating hairstyles and makeup looks, debating over the choices as if they were the most pressing decisions in the world.

You sketched out your dream house, selecting the colors, the flowers for the front garden, and the vegetables you would surely grow in the back. You even chose the font for your new last name on the mailbox.

You had each of your children’s names picked out—three, to be exact. Two boys and one girl, you had hoped. Everything was a dream, but it seemed so close, so possible, as if it should have been a reality. You should be dead by now, having lived a full life, with your children who should have been walking the earth with their children, your grandchildren.

But everything went wrong. Literally, everything possible went wrong.

Bucky fell off a train and died. He actually fell off a train, and they declared him dead. In reality, he had lost his arm, survived the fall because Hydra had already experimented on him. They brainwashed him, like something out of a twisted fairy tale, turning him into a deadly assassin. Your beautiful, blue-eyed Bucky, your sweet Bucky, became a killer. A Bucky you would never see again, because even though he was still here, and you were so thankful for that, he would never be your Bucky again.

And then there was Steve. Of course, Steve found him, because of course! And let’s not forget that your best friend, Steve, who was once smaller than you, was injected with a serum that not only tripled his size but turned him into a superhero because, yes, apparently those needed to exist. Of course, he went off to war, driven by a need for revenge for his best friend, your fiancé Bucky. And of course, he had to be noble, going down for the cause, leading everyone to believe he was dead. But of course, he wasn’t. They found him, frozen but alive, because he was Captain America, and that’s just what happens.

And then there was you, consumed by grief, first losing the love of your life and then your best friend. You begged, on your knees, begged Howard Stark to use you as his test subject for cryogenic testing. You couldn’t bear to be here without your boys. He hesitated because he loved Steve, and he knew Steve wouldn’t want this for you. But when you threatened that if he didn’t, you would take your own life, he relented. So, of course, it worked because it was Howard, and he was a Stark. But decades passed, and the year he was supposed to wake you up, The Winter Soldier murdered him. So, as usual, you stayed frozen, but alive, until Howard’s son, Tony, found you in his father’s hidden lab.

You woke up to a world that was not your own, a century too late for the life you were supposed to live. The world had moved on, but you hadn’t. Your friends were legends now, mythologized beyond recognition. And you, well, you were the ghost of what could have been.

The years that followed were a blur of new faces, new battles, and new griefs. You tried to adapt, to find a place in this future that had no room for you. But every corner of this brave new world reminded you of the past, of the life that slipped through your fingers.

And then one day, while sifting through old boxes in Tony’s lab, you found something. It was an old, faded book, as soon as you saw the brown cover you heart dropped you knew what it was, it waa your scrapbook. The cover had an old faded photo of you, Bucky, and Steve, taken on a sunny day before the world went mad. You barely recognized the girl in the photo, with her bright smile and unbroken heart. But there she was, a relic of a time that now felt like a dream.

You realised then that maybe you didn’t belong in this world. Maybe you never did. But as long as you were here, you could try—try to make sense of the pieces left behind, to find some small measure of peace in the chaos.

And that’s exactly what you did. Even though you didn’t have the life you had once dreamed of, you still had them. And in what world does all that trauma happen, and you still end up alive with your boys?

You picked up the dusty book, holding it close to your heart, as you navigated through the compound, following the sound of laughter coming from the living room. You paused just outside the doorway, soaking in the warmth of his laugh—a sound you feared you might never hear again after Bucky began recovering from his trauma. But here it was, filling the room, and even though it wasn’t the same Bucky you knew decades ago, his laugh was unchanged, and it made your heart swell.

Rounding the corner, you saw Steve clutching his chest in joy, playfully shoving Sam, who was grinning widely.

Bucky’s eyes immediately found yours; he could always find you in any room. “Hi, doll,” he said, getting up to kiss your cheek and taking your hand to lead you to the couch.

“Hi, Buck. Hi, Stevie, Sammy,” you greeted them, settling in beside Bucky.

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Bucky glanced down at the book in your arms. “What’s that?”

Steve’s smile faded into something more serious as he noticed the book, instantly recognizing it. “Is that what I think it is?”

You nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “Stark… he kept it. I haven’t opened it yet. I thought… I thought we could do it together.”

“What is it?” Sam asked, his curiosity piqued.

“It’s my life,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “There are a few pages of what I thought it would turn out to be… but after everything happened…” You paused, taking a steadying breath. The memories of losing Bucky and Steve were still fresh, no matter how much time had passed. “I never planned or dreamed of anything else. It just felt silly without you boys. So, I just filled it with photographs.”

“Photographs of who?” Sam asked, leaning forward.

“Everyone,” you replied softly, glancing between Bucky and Steve. “Peggy and Mrs. Rogers,” you said, meeting Steve’s gaze. You saw the emotion in his eyes at the mention of his mother. “Becca and Winnie, Mr. Barnes,” you continued, feeling Bucky tense slightly at the mention of his mother and sister, their faces now distant memories. “I even have Howard and the Commandos.” You smiled a little. “But mostly, it’s us—all of us.”

Bucky reached out, gently taking the book from your hands. His fingers brushed the worn cover, the room fell silent as the weight of the past settled around you all.

“Let’s open it together,” Steve suggested, his voice thick with emotion. He moved closer, his presence a steady anchor as you all gathered around the book. Sam stayed distant, letting the three of you have your moment but still staying there.

Bucky opened the cover, and the first page revealed a photograph of you, Bucky, and Steve, taken in a simpler time. The three of you looked so young, so hopeful. You felt Bucky’s hand tighten around yours as he stared at the image, memories rushing back. It was a photo from your 16th birthday, the day he had gifted you the book.

“I gave this to you,” Bucky said quietly, the realization settling over him.

You nodded. “For my birthday. You wrote…” You trailed off, pointing to the top left corner of the front of the book.

He read the words aloud, his voice filled with emotion. “Happy 16th birthday to my best girl. I hope you fill these pages with your hopes and dreams. I can only hope that somewhere in amongst them, I’ll be a part of it. With all the love, Bucky.”

Sam smiled, leaning back in his seat. “Who knew you were such a romantic, Buck?”

You watched as Bucky’s cheeks flushed a light shade of red at the comment, and you gave his knee a gentle squeeze, feeling the warmth of the old affection between you.

“For y/n, he was crazy,” Steve chimed in, grinning. “You should have seen him—head over heels is an understatement. Try obses—”

Before Steve could finish, Bucky reached behind you and gave him a playful shove. “Can it, Rogers,” he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Steve just laughed, catching himself before he toppled over. “You know it’s true.”

You chuckled, resting your head against Bucky’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Bucky’s hand found yours again, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. “Neither would I.”

As you all shared a quiet moment, the weight of the years seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of old memories and the comfort of the present. Bucky turned the page, revealing more photographs—snapshots of moments that had once seemed so ordinary but now felt like treasures.

The pages turned slowly, revealing a life that could have been—a wedding dress sketched out, a house with a picket fence, names of children that never came to be. And then, the photographs—snapshots of moments frozen in time. Peggy’s bright smile, Mrs. Rogers’ kind eyes, the mischievous grins of Becca and Winnie, Howard’s confident stance, the Commandos’ camaraderie. But the most frequent faces were your own, Bucky’s, and Steve’s, from a time when the world was both simpler and infinitely more complex.

Each image told a story. There was one of you and Steve dancing at a neighbourhood block party, both of you laughing so hard you could barely stand. Another showed Bucky in his military uniform, giving you a wink as he prepared to head off to basic training. Then there were pictures of Steve and Bucky goofing around, each trying to outdo the other in some silly stunt, and you caught in the middle, rolling your eyes but smiling all the same.

There were pictures of Bucky and you around the campfire on the night before everything changed—before he fell off the train. Bucky paused on that photo, his eyes lingering on it. “That was the night before…” he said softly.

You nodded, squeezing his hand, understanding the weight of those words.

“Night before what?” Sam asked, his voice gentle.

“Before I fell,” Bucky replied, those three words carrying a lifetime of pain and loss. The room grew still, the significance of that moment hanging heavy in the air. Sam didn’t say anything more, sensing the depth of emotion in Bucky’s words.

Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on the photo, his voice quiet as he continued. “It was the last time I felt so much joy… I feel it now, but it was different then.”

Steve nodded in agreement, his expression solemn. “I get it, Buck.”

“Me too,” you added, your voice trembling slightly. “I keep thinking about what was supposed to be, what should have been.” You paused, wiping a tear from your eye. “I don’t understand why it all happened the way it did—why I didn’t get the life I thought I was going to.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, his hand gently reaching out to wipe away your tears, his touch as tender as it had always been.

The room fell into a reverent silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts, the weight of your shared history settling over you like a heavy blanket. Finally, Sam spoke, his voice soft and full of understanding. “You’ve lived a hell of a life.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you wiped away a stray tear. “It wasn’t what I planned,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion. “But I wouldn’t trade it. Not if it meant losing this—losing you… both of you.”

Bucky’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “We didn’t get the life we dreamed of, but we got each other. And that’s enough.”

Steve leaned back, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “We’ve been through so much, but we’re still here. Together.”

Sam smiled, the warmth in his expression offering a quiet reassurance. “That’s what matters in the end. Not what you lost, but what you’ve kept.”

“Till the end of the line,” Steve spoke, the words heavy with emotion and depth.

“Till the end of the line,” Bucky echoed, pulling you closer to his side.

You glanced around the room at the faces of the people who had become your family—the ones who had stood by you through the darkest of times.

As the pages of the scrapbook turned, the photographs shifted from black-and-white to colour, reflecting the passage of time. The images grew fewer as the years became harder, but each one was more precious because of it.

Finally, you reached the last page, where an empty space awaited a new photograph. You looked up at Bucky and Steve, both of them gazing at the book with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude.

“You should take a new photo,” Sam suggested, his voice soft but certain. “One to mark this moment.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that melted away the years. “Yeah, we should.”

Steve grinned. “I’ll get the camera.”

As Steve stood to retrieve a camera, you leaned into Bucky, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand. This was the life you had, and it was more than enough. The empty space in the book was no longer a reminder of what was lost, but a promise of what was yet to come—a new chapter, filled with love, laughter, and the people who mattered most.

Sam took the camera from Steve, ready to take the picture. But just as he was about to snap the shot, you paused. “Wait!”

“What? You don’t have food in your teeth, but your hair…” Sam teased with a smirk.

“Well, I was going to say I want you in the picture too, but…” You trailed off

“No, no! I’m sorry, you’re beautiful… perfect—”

“Sam, watch it, that’s my girl,” Bucky warned, a protective edge to his voice.

Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling. “The whole world knows that, Buck.” He placed the camera on the tripod and took a seat beside Steve. “You sure you want me in this?”

“Of course, Sammy! You’re one of us now,” you insisted, smiling warmly at him.

Sam’s expression softened, and he nodded, touched by your words. As the camera clicked, capturing the four of you together, you knew that this was the memory that would fill that final page—the proof that even after everything, you still had your boys, old and new, and they still had you.

The book might never hold the life you once dreamed of, but it would hold the life you had lived—the one you had fought for, the one you had loved.

And that was more than enough.

[maxillness]

If Daddy Knew || T.W x Horner!Reader

Warnings: 18+, hair pulling, oral (M&F reviving), handjob, fingering, degrading kink, praise kink

Wordcount: 2.1k

Part 2

If she knew how this would end up in the long term, she would had agreed to go with her father a lot sooner

She would always say no if she was invited to a Grand Prix and to come to the paddock

She hadn’t always been the most social person, and she was scared she would mess up her words or don’t talk at all

This time was different

She felt confident that day. She has been invited again, and she said yes. It surprised her father. He couldn’t understand why she said yes

She couldn’t either, but she’s glad she did

As she stood in the Red Bull garage, she kept feeling like she was stared down by people outside of the garage

And she was right. When she got to the paddock afterwards, people still kept staring her down as she walked with her father. He wanted to introduce her to all the drivers and team principals

It all went good, until they reached Mercedes

Don’t take it the wrong way, they were all very nice, but after she had greeted the drivers, she had to meet the team principal

Toto Wolff

She had heard about him through her father, now, of course she didn’t take his word for it. They were rivals after all, they’re bound to say bad stuff about each other that weren’t true

“Darling, this is Toto Wolff” He said his name through gritted teeth

“Hi. I’ve heard so much about you” He didn’t answer her, he just looked her up and down and went back to what he was doing

She would have said something about his rudeness, only if he hadn’t been so handsome

Maybe he was all those things her dad said

The rest of the day, she thought about Toto and if it was something she did or said to make him rude, or if it was just how he was

It finally became Sunday and she stood in the garage. She knew it was bad, but she kept starting at Toto from the distance

“You okay, dear?” Christian asked her as he walked over to her “You’ve been kinda starting out in the abyss” He chuckled

“Yeah, I’m fine, dad. Thank you” She nodded up at him

The race went well. Max won, no surprise there. We all knew he was gonna win. Even the opposite teams knew he was gonna win

That night, they all went out celebrating the win, even though it was routine that he won by now

She drank to keep the thoughts away. She really wanted to be on his good side, but how could she do that?

The next morning she woke up with a slight headache, but nothing a few painkillers couldn’t take away

Just as she was about to brush her teeth, her phone started ringing. It was an unknown number

“Y/N Horner” She answered the phone

“Hi, Y/N, it’s Toto Wolff” His accent was thick through the phone “I just wanted to apologise my behaviour when we met. I’m sure you’re aware that me and your father don’t have the bestest of friendship, that was the only reason why I didn’t say anything, and that’s no reason, I know, but I just wanted to apologise. Can I buy you some coffee to make up for it?”

She stood and thought about her answer a while “Yeah, that sounds nice. When?” She finally answered and she heard him sigh on the other end

“Great. Shall we say 12 o’clock at the Café across the street?” God, his accent was to swoon over

“Yeah. That’s perfect” A smirk drew on her lips. They hung up and she looked at the time. It was currently 10. She had two hours

Two hours would have been fine if she had anything to wear. She tried to look through her clothes. She tried all the combinations of clothing that was clean

She finally settled for an outfit after 45 minutes and some going back and forth trough clothes

Before she put on her clothes, she went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She stood there for what felt like hours, but was actually only 10 minutes

She looked back at the clock after she got dressed and put on her shoes. 11:30. She debated if she should go now and be early, or if she should wait and be on time

She has only now realised she had forgotten her perfume. She founded and sprayed it lightly on the skin on her neck

She now decided to go out, but she should probably had waited. She bumped into her father in the hallway

“Where you going in such a hurry?” He chuckled as he looked her up and down

“I was just going out, checking the city out” She smiled innocently

“Okay. Have fun, don’t be out too late” He said to her before he continued to walk away

She continued to walk over to the elevator. The ride down to the lobby seemed like it took ages. She got to the lobby and walked out and across the street

She walked into the Café. She looked around to see if she could see Toto. She found him sitting at a booth up against the far wall. She sat down across him

“Hello, can I get you anything?” The waiter asked as she walked over to them

“I would like a coffee, black and a chocolate scone” Toto said as he looked from her to the waiter

“Can I get a hot chocolate and a croissant?” She asked as she looked up at her

“Of course. I’ll bring it down for you” She smiled and walked over to the counter

“I’m sorry for how I reacted, Y/N, I really am” He rambled and she just stared at him

“Toto, it’s fine. It’s no problem. I know how your relationship is with my dad, I totally understand” She smiled at him, trying to reassure him

“Yeah, I’m not friends with your dad, but I shouldn’t take that out on you” He sighed as he placed his hand on top of hers

“Toto, don’t worry about it, okay?” She smiled at him, looking him in his eyes through his glasses

All he did was nod before the waitress came over with their order. As they sat and drank their coffee and ate their food, they made small talk

The only annoying thing about this whole conversation was his smile. He would smile every so often, and it made her legs week

Everything that happened between that time and when they were in the elevator was a blur for her. All she knew was that she was pressed up against the elevators wall, her hands intertwined in his hair while his lips was on hers as his hands roamed her hips and waist

The ding of the elevator startled them. They hurried out into the hall and over to her room. She struggled a bit when she opened the door, but managed fine

As they got into the room, he pushed her up against the door. Her hands went to his waist, and in one swift motion, she had them turned around

Her hands went up his torso to unbutton his shirt. When she got the last button unbuttoned, she discarded the shirt on the ground

Her hand went to his hair to pull his head back so she could start attacking his necks with kisses and bites. He groaned at the sudden dominance from her. Her other hand went to unbuckle his belt

Toto covered his mouth with his hand to minimise the sounds that came out of him. She took her hand away from his belt and up to his hand to remove it from his mouth

“I want to hear your sounds, Toto” She said as she drew away from his neck, which drew out a groan from him “Fuck, you sounds so pretty” He could feel her smirk on his neck

She turned them around again, but this time, she guided him towards the bed, their shoes getting kicked off in the process

When the back off Toto’s legs hit the bed, she pushed him down to sit. She got on her knees and zipped down his pants

He bucked his up from the bed so she could pull down his pants and boxers. When she had gotten them off, she threw them beside her

She licked a stripe up his shaft before spitting into her hand, and started stroking him slowly. He started moaning low, almost silently

“Keep up those sounds, I wanna hear you, baby” She told him as she looked up at him from between his knees

Her words could make him undone right then and there “Fuck, I want your mouth around me, please” His voice was getting desperate and his accent was getting heavier

She removed her hand, but quickly replaced it with her mouth. His moans got louder as she started moving her head up and down

He started bucking his hips up, trying to fuck her mouth, but her hands came up to push him back down to stop his movements, which makes him groan in annoyance

“Fucking shit, Ah…” He wasn’t making any effort to swallow his moans “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, please. I’m so-Ah. I’m so close” His head leaned back and his eyes rolled to the back of his head

His hand was shaking when he drew it up to his face to take off his glasses as they started fogging up. He got them off and threw them on the ground, not caring if they broke or not

“I can’t- Ah. Fuck, please, I can’t take it anymore” His words didn’t stop her actions, if it did anything, it made her faster

A few seconds later and he came down her throat. She held her head down as he finished. She got off of him and swallowed his loath

He was panting hard when she stood up. She took his chin between her fingers making him look at her. She kissed him deeply, making him taste himself on her tongue

“Think you can return the favour?” She asked seductively. With closed eyes, he nodded “Good. Get on your knees” He quickly got on his knees where she once sat as she herself sat on the bed

She leaned back, her weight resting on her hands. She watched as his trembling hands tried opening the button on her jeans

She chuckled seeing him struggling “God you’re pathetic” She pushed his hands away to do it herself. She lifted her hips so he could pull down her pants and panties throwing them away with the rest of the clothes on the floor

He pulled her close to the edge of the bed, and therefore closer to his mouth. He drew his tongue through her soaking folds

“What wouldn’t my father say, hm?” She drew one of her hands through his soft, brown locks when he started attacking her clit

“His biggest rival eating out his daughter” He groaned into her cunt from her degrading, making her moan “What don’t you think he will do? Most likely kill you, or maybe, he would never invite me again to keep me as far away from you as possible so this could never happen again”

He groaned again, making her grip his hair tight and moan louder than before “Fuck, you’re so beautiful from here” She chuckled mixed with a moan

He drew one of his hands towards her cunt. One of his fingers drew through her folds, stopping at her entrance. She moaned as he entered her slowly

He started going in and out of her, drawing loud moans from her. He added another finger as he started curling his fingers up and hitting the spot inside her that made her see stars

Her moans got louder and heavier as she was pulled closer to the edge of her orgasm “Fuck, you’re doing so good for me, Toto” She moaned pulling his hair so his face got showed into her cunt

“Fuck, I’m so close. Fucking keep going. Ah” Her head rolled back while she bucked her hips up and into his mouth “You’re doing so fucking good” He groaned which send her over the edge. Her legs shakes as she came down from her high

“Fuck, you did so good for me” She smiled down at him as she drew his face up to look at her “So fucking good” She leaned down to kiss him

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 1

[chap two] | [all chapters here]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | Was I the only one who turned 18 a month into their senior year and then proceeded to spiral and become The Worst version of themself possible?? Well, this fic is semi-inspired by that shitty part of my life lmao. Reader figure skates though. I can’t figure skate, hurts my feet lol. I never expected to write a fake dating story, but Eddie Munson has had me bewitched for nearly 2 years now, so here we go.

(if you'd like to be added to a tag list, pls let me know!)

WC | 3.9k

Chapter One

The idea came to you during a student council meeting as the class president was droning on about the ‘85 homecoming preparations: you needed to do something crazy, something completely and utterly out of character.

Maybe it was because of your ex breaking up with you just weeks before school started. Maybe it was that senior year itch. Maybe it was the realization that you were turning 18 next week. Hell, maybe you just woke up that morning with a strong sense that the things in your life were no longer satisfying you.

Whatever the cause, since the start of your senior year, you’ve just felt so off.

Your ex, Duncan, breaking up with you right before school started was a low blow, and an absolutely shitty feeling - you didn’t date much, but when you did, it was never the guy that ended things. It wasn’t shitty because you were in love and oh so heartbreak, it wasn’t shitty because you saw a future with him. It was shitty because of how goddamn embarrassing it was.

To your peers, you were a couple that made sense, and in fact people had been urging you to go out for a while. And, obviously, you had grown to like him, considering that you were in a relationship for six months - you never would have put up with him for that long if you didn’t actually like him. But the fact that he broke up with you, and not the other way around, left a sour, spiteful taste in your mouth.

So, perhaps it was that break-up that made you feel different this entire month. Or maybe it was your impending 18th birthday, which made you realize just how close you were to legal adulthood. Whatever the cause, every single aspect of your life up to this point suddenly came under your deep scrutiny. You just weren’t… happy?

That made it sound bad, but what were you enjoying right now? What got you excited every day? As you sat in the student council meeting, zoning out since the very start, you came to think that maybe you had nothing going on right now that you genuinely wanted in your life.

Hell, you weren’t even on the student council because you enjoyed it, Janet just dragged you into it back in your sophomore year. You figured she loved the sense of importance it gave her. She and everyone else in the council probably got off on how important they felt, the dictators of Hawkins High School.

You always ran in this crowd, and before you never questioned it. The popular kids, the rich kids, the successful kids. You don’t remember ever choosing these friends and acquaintances - if anything, it seemed that these peers were all a constant, as if they’d always been there from the very start. You figured it was the natural state of the world - as the daughter of one of the richest men in town, you were predestined to end up here. Not here as in the student council, surrounded by other spoiled rich kids debating the difference between turquoise and cyan. But here in an even broader sense - in a finely curated life, in all the “right” circles, on the path to either greatness or becoming the trophy wife of greatness.

Up until now, you’d never questioned it. Yes, mom and dad, you were a popular kid whose free time was fully booked between college prep, figure skating, student council, dates with a cookie-cutter boyfriend, and everything else under the sun. Yes, mom and dad, you were doing everything they all told you too because it would look great on your college applications, because that’s what you’re supposed to do, because that’s how things have always been done.

It started to dawn on you maybe a week or so into the school year just how mundane you were - you never questioned your time spent skating or on extracurriculars, you never went against the order of things as dictated by only the most popular of your peers. That’s just what was done, what was always done. But after your ex dared to break up with you, you came to realize recently that maybe all of this wasn’t what you wanted - maybe it was time to start making some choices for yourself instead of worrying what your parents told you or what your peers thought or what to do to keep your boyfriend semi-happy.

So, you started to consider what exactly it was that you wanted. And that proved to be more challenging than you anticipated, which probably would have sounded extremely pathetic if you had said it to any of the people sitting next to you.

Did you like figure skating? Of course, it was your idea after all. What you didn’t like was the pressure from your mother to train and become an Olympian, a feat that was never your intention when you took up the sport at six years old. Besides, you told her, you were way past the age for trials, you’d never get in (or, at least, that’s what you told her, because how the hell would you know whether or not there was a cut off age).

Did you like your friends? You thought so - you’d known them virtually your entire life, so you never questioned your relationship with them. But proximity didn’t necessarily go hand-in-hand with likeability. Maybe some of them you actually liked, but the rest? No, they were just around because they always had been.

Did you like your relationship before Duncan broke up with you? No, probably not. Of course, your opinion of him and that entire relationship was soured now, but even at the time, you were probably just going through the motions, doing things that couples do without any real heart in it.

So… What did you want? What did you actually like?

It was jarring to realize that your entire life had been dictated and finely tuned for you from the moment you were born, that even the things you wanted had been molded into new shapes by your parents or your peers or your teachers.

Once you realized how little of your life was in your own hands, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You always saw yourself as someone who was in control, as someone who couldn’t be told shit. And yet, you came to realize that that was far from the truth. It was as if suddenly everything about your life was something you hated. You hated your classes, you hated your friends, you hated running in the same circle as your ex, you hated all your obligations. Through the first few weeks of senior year, all you felt was frustration, disinterest, and absolute boredom with everything around you. Something had to change. And during the bullshit student council meeting, you became determined to make it happen.

So, over the course of that boring as all hell meeting, you tried to figure out what you wanted, and how you were going to get it. You set a goal for yourself, silly but helpful considering the structure you were so accustomed to: you’d set your plan in motion on your birthday. New year, new you, right?

Once you gave yourself that deadline, you then had to think about what exactly you were trying to accomplish - yes, you wanted to make some major changes, you wanted to, in a way, become a new person, but how were you going to do that?

You settled on four key things to keep in mind:

You wanted to piss off your parents big time - your dad barely acknowledged your existence and your mom coddled you, so actually upsetting them would be a feat unto itself. You had to become so awful that even your mother would stop making excuses for you.

You needed to drop your friends - the more you thought about all the people you grew up alongside, the more you realized that you weren’t particularly interested�� in relationships with any of them. Whether you made new friends or not wasn’t a priority, in fact you kind of liked the idea of just being left alone.

You had to figure out what you actually enjoyed - outside of skating, you had no idea what really interested you, what you would like to do with your life and your free time. You figured it was time to do some self reflection and focus on finding things that you’d actually enjoy.

And, most importantly, you had to get back at your ex. Yeah, it was stupid to be motivated by a boy, but nothing would make you happier than seeing him worked up and frustrated. Your focus wasn’t on trying to win him back or anything like that - you wanted to piss him off, to exact some kind of revenge for making you look like an idiot when he broke up with you at a party that all your friends had attended.

How you were going to accomplish these, however, was yet to be determined. But they were a damn good starting point, and they got you motivated to become an absolute nuisance to everyone around.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The Friday following the student council meeting, you decided to first experiment with a little something, satiate a mild curiosity. To anyone else, it was probably the most mundane thing in the world, but to a high schooler who thought graduation was life or death, doing anything out of the ordinary felt nail-biting.

You were going to sit at a new lunch table.

You had just two days left until your birthday, until you’d officially set your plan in motion, so you still had a little more time to come up with something. So far, you couldn’t think of shit. You were already someone who was blunt and commanding and mean, whose thoughts and feelings were always on your face, so people were used to you being bossy and a little miserable - you couldn’t start being meaner or blunter, you just knew that wouldn’t be enough. Maybe you could start skipping class, maybe you could start flaking on friends, but somehow none of that felt like enough, like it wouldn’t make a statement. You had to really make an impression, to really set yourself up for a total ruination of your social status, you just hadn’t figured out how.

But a new lunch table was as good a starting point as any, right?

You chose a table at the far end of the lunchroom; customarily your group of friends, acquaintances, and ex sat centrally, surrounded by the jocks on one side and the academics on the other. The new table you chose was only occupied by two other people, a dorky little couple who looked at you funny when you sat as far from them as possible. In turn, you gave them an icy cold glare, prompting them to look away quickly, like you were a Medusa who could turn them to stone.

Your stupid little lunchroom plan was a bust, though. Five minutes into your peaceful lunch, your two closest friends, Amelia and Janet found you, each looking perplexed and put-off by your seat of choice. They looked around before lowering into the seats around you, their expression full of something akin to disgust, as if sitting at a different table was that offensive.

“What are we doing over here?” Amelia asked judgmentally, eyeing the couple at the opposite end of the table. Across the lunchroom, a few people (including Duncan) from your usual lunch table looked at you funny, “It’s like we’re exiled or something.”

So dramatic, you thought while staring harshly at her.

“Change of scenery.” You answered plainly, stabbing at the food in front of you. Amelia hummed in acknowledgement, but still made it quite clear that she didn’t agree with the decision.

“What, does this have something to do with Duncan?” She jabbed, receiving another nasty look from you, “So, he’s a jerk? Get over it.”

You should’ve known this idea was too simple to work. Of course they’d just follow you like the lemmings that they were, just as unable to make their own decisions as you were. Yeah, you definitely needed to try something bigger to scare them off.

Briefly, you thought that you could maybe tell them, just say point blank, “Amelia, Janet, I hate being around you and this friendship is done.” But, again, you figured that wouldn’t be good enough, that they’d laugh at your mean sense of humor even if you reiterated yourself. In this crowd, being mean was never enough to make your point, because all of you were nasty, not only to each other but to virtually everyone you met.

And despite your well-known attitude problem, you still cared about Amelia and Janet, flaws and all. These were the girls that you’d known since you were five years old, of course you worried about their feelings at least a little bit - nearly 13 years of friendship would do that to anyone. Guess you had more of a heart than you gave yourself credit for.

You definitely needed a foolproof plan to get out of this friendship, this social circle, this popular bubble that you’d always been trapped in. The friendship had to end without you saying so. You had to push them out until they finally gave up on you. Make it seem like it was their idea, that would definitely work on them.

As you schemed, Amelia and Janet chatted around you. Various acquaintances stopped by the table, all with the same question: what the hell were you guys doing sitting all the way out here? Even Duncan was amongst those that asked, trying to ignore the way you glared daggers at him. Amelia and Janet gave various responses, all of which put blame on you as if this simple little decision meant their utter ruination.

As Duncan was preparing to walk back to your usual lunch table, a commotion rose out in the hallway, the echo of rapid footfall drifting in through the doors. Multiple heads turned to face the cafeteria doors with curiosity, some people peeked out into the hall to check what the yelling was about, scurrying back to their friends to report what they’d seen. You, Amelia, Janet, and Duncan all waited silently, sharing raised brows and curious looks.

Not even a minute later, Eddie freaking Munson came crashing into the lunchroom, a look of total glee on his face as he cackled, not even remotely fazed by all the eyes on him. As he tumbled through the cafeteria doors, you jumped a little at the burst of sound. Eddie’s disruption turned everyone’s heads now, the lunchroom silent in shock and loathing as the resident outcast ran between tables, heading for the set of doors at the opposite end of the room. Your gaze was locked on the shit disturber as he blew past your table, carelessly running into Duncan in the process, but even that collision didn’t slow him down. Duncan yelled at him, but Eddie was focused on one goal, and if this were a cartoon you definitely would have seen dust kick up behind him from how quickly he was moving.

Not too far behind was Coach Miller, a look of absolute rage marring his puffy red face as he pursued Eddie. It didn’t even seem to cross his mind that he was making a fool of himself in front of the entire student body - his only focus was stopping the offender of whatever shenanigans currently pissed him off.

Your gaze turned back to the excited Eddie, an undeniable curiosity rising in you - what the hell did he do to piss off Coach Miller this bad? Sure, the coach was always pretty damn temperamental, but you couldn’t recall ever seeing him look quite this upset before.

Eddie paused at the cafeteria doors to turn and pull a mocking face at the coach before darting from the room, as if nothing in the world could touch him and he was unstoppable.

As Coach Miller disappeared after Eddie and students returned to their usual conversations, albeit with an air of awkwardness, you stared at the cafeteria doors thoughtfully.

That’s when an idea began to form.

You needed to take a page out of Eddie Munson’s book. If anyone in this school knew how to be a thorn in everyone’s side, it was him. So, you spent the remainder of your lunch brainstorming, trying to figure out how to channel even a sliver of Eddie’s energy; you only chimed into the conversation when someone spoke to you directly.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

In the middle of fifth period, you still weren’t quite sure what your game plan was, but you at least had a vague starting point. While your history teacher rambled on about some significant European war that you couldn’t begin to care about, you tapped your pencil as you thought about Eddie Munson (a sentence that very nearly grossed you out).

You’ve known about him since your freshman year - at the time, he was a year ahead of you, but since then he’d been held back. People always sneered when talking about him, as if Eddie was the most offensive thing they’d ever encountered, as if he was some kind of plague. He went against all social norms you’d learned up to that point, he was contradictory to everything you’d ever been taught about social conduct and likeability - he wore ratty clothes, listened to scary music, acted out in the most theatrical ways possible, and never seemed to give a shit what anyone thought.

You had never spoken to Eddie personally. Through the years you’d had a few classes together, including your math class this year, so you’ve witnessed some of his antics. But really, you knew nothing about the guy. Just the things that everyone else told you, and those things were nothing good. Whether or not Eddie was as bad as people said didn’t matter to you. His reputation was shit, and in this instance that’s exactly what you needed.

So, how were you going to ruin your senior year with the help of Eddie Munson? Well, at the very least, maybe you first had to have a conversation with him. It would be pretty stupid to walk up to him and go “hey, Munson, I know everyone here hates you, how about we chat and you make them hate me, too!”

Maybe you needed to find a way to hang out with him? Pretend to be friends long enough that the rest of the student body begins to ostracize you? With a little amused huff, an even worse thought crossed you: maybe you needed to pretend you were interested in Eddie Munson for a while, that was sure to piss just about everyone off. Especially Duncan.

But then the idea gave you pause.

You could not pretend to flirt with, or even date, Eddie fucking Munson. No chance in hell that would work. No way he would go for it, and no way you’d be able to tolerate him long enough to convince anyone that you were even remotely into him.

But… maybe?

Shit, what a stupid idea.

Or maybe it was a brilliant one.

You mulled it over a few minutes longer - if you were going to, somehow, convince Eddie Munson to pretend to date you, you needed to offer him something in exchange, that was obvious. You needed to give him a good reason to help you out, or this plan was never going to work. Its chances of success already seemed slim to none.

You had one idea, though you weren’t entirely certain if he’d go for it.

Your Uncle Tom was a cop, had been with the force your entire life - and you’d bet he’s probably had at least one run-in with Eddie. Maybe you’d tell Eddie that you could get cops to leave him alone, to stop watching him wearily whenever they were around. You couldn’t promise him too much, of course, but you knew at the very least that you could get your uncle to leave him alone. Or you could even take the fall here and there for whatever trouble Eddie inevitably lands himself in - what cop was stupid enough to arrest the niece of a cop and the daughter of a man who owned half of Hawkins?

It wasn’t foolproof, and you knew there were flaws to be found, but it just might work.

So, with your mind made up, you rip a scrap of paper from your notebook and scribble out a quick message:

Let’s make a deal. Sunday. You pick the time and place. Locker #436

You’d hoped that Eddie would be smart enough to realize that you wanted him to write you back, to drop his own stupid note in your locker so you could meet up and tell him your stupid, crazy idea. God, this better work.

You swiftly raise your hand in the air, giving a small impatient wave when your teacher didn’t acknowledge you right away, instead trying to focus on his lecture.

He rolled his eyes when he spotted your hand in the air, pointing at you and saying in an annoyed monotone, “What’s so important that you’re interrupting?”

Without any hesitation, you state bluntly, “Lady troubles.”

The teacher looks shocked by how plainly you stated it. But because it was you that said it and not someone else, your peers didn’t dare laugh, although a couple boys seemed to choke in surprise or amusement.

“Go, go…” Your teacher waved you off before continuing his lecture, wanting to forget the small interaction entirely.

You exited the room and roamed the halls confidently. Eddie’s locker wasn’t hard to miss - he was one of the students that decorated the metal with crude permanent marker sketches, and the school was too cheap to care about replacing or painting over it. As you approached Eddie’s locker, you checked around to make sure no one spotted you; it wasn’t as if you were committing a crime, but you didn’t need anyone wondering what you were up to in case this plan didn’t work.

So, you slipped the note into his locker, returned to class, and waited impatiently for the final bell of the day to ring, hoping that Eddie would actually stop by his locker and not just leave school without ever seeing your note.

When the end of the day came, it took everything in your power not to rush back to your own locker - just in case, you didn’t want him spotting you there. Why all the secrecy, you sure as hell didn’t know, but you nonetheless continued it.

So, you waited, stopping into the bathroom to check your makeup, walking with Amelia and Janet as they stopped at their own lockers. As the three of you exited the building and walked into the parking lot, you pretended to remember something, telling them that you needed to run back inside. You said your quick goodbyes and went back to wandering the halls, finally opening up your own locker.

It was stupid that your heart leapt when you saw a crudely torn piece of paper resting on top of some of your belongings.

You opened it quickly, eagerly reading the metalhead’s response:

Picnic table behind the football field, 4.

God, what were you getting yourself into.

[im-so-tired-sorry]

“what should we have for breakfast?”

“i don’t know. eggs sound good.”

“and bacon?”

“do we still have any?”

“i’m pretty sure we do. oh! and can we have french toast?”

“only if we don’t have bacon.”

“aww c’mon katsuki! i’ll even make it!”

“you got sick the last time you had the combo. it’s one or the other; bacon or french toast.”

“i only got sick because i ate a little too much!-“

“bacon. or french toast.”

“…bacon.”

the room was still dark as your two boyfriends whispered about what would go better with eggs. for all they knew, you hadn’t woken up yet, and besides trying not laugh at the conversation, you wondered why your boyfriends were up before the sun.

“if there’s no bacon, we’ll have french toast. and i’ll make ‘em, don’t worry about it.”

“thanks katsuki.”

“whatever.”

eijirou was holding you from behind, grazing his fingers along your arms while katsuki was on his back, one hand under his head while the other played with yours that laid on his chest.

“i’ll make the eggs then!”

“you burnt them the last time you tried. i’ll cook, you can clean.”

“fiiineeee.”

“how do you want them then?”

“sunny side up?”

“scrambled.”

all movement touching you ceases.

“and how long exactly have you been awake?”

“i could ask you the same thing.”

you turn to face your red headed boyfriend and give him a kiss.

“good morning baby~”

“good morning~”

you turn back to find the blond already holding himself on his side, leaning down to give you a kiss on the head.

“mornin’ babe.”

“morning!”

“did we wake you?”

“a little. why are you guys up?” you ask with a yawn.

“eijirou woke me up while trying to get some water. we were up around 10 minutes before you.”

“debating on bacon or french toast.”

though it was dark, you could still see katsuki as he rolled his eyes. you and eijirou share a laugh.

“well babe, what do you think? what should go with the eggs?”

you sit up and stretch before turning to look back at your partners.

eijirou, still laying down, trying not to fall asleep, with his messy hair barely covering his eyes that look up at you. those eyes, with a sparkle that’s the powdered sugar to his sweetness.

katsuki, sitting up with arms crossed. a stern face but with anticipating eyes for a response. his saltiness just being a characteristic for how savory he can actually be.

you make up your mind.

“let’s have both.”

[babyboydaniel]

Knock, Knock (M) | Part 3

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader | Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lando really needs to learn how to knock.

Smut, Fluff | Warnings: 18+, Semi-Public, Masturbation, Oral (male receiving) | Word Count: 2.8K

It was Friday, which meant free practice for all the drivers. You were excited to be able to see some action, even if it was just the teams running their programs. Not to mention getting the privilege to watch your boyfriend in action, wearing his undeniable mouth-watering race suit with skin-tight fireproofs underneath.  

Your morning started with an innocent enough make-out session with Daniel before he suggested that you shower together to “save time.” Because somehow you were running late again. Daniel kept his hands to himself, well mostly to himself. 

After hopping out of the shower, the two of you got ready in record time, yelling at him that tomorrow you had to wake up earlier since you cannot live your life like that. All Daniel did was laugh in response while running some product through his hair to make it extra curly. Tempting you to just run your hands through it and ruin it. But, unfortunately, there was no time for that. 

The ride to the track was quick enough; before you knew it, you were walking hand in hand through the entrance. Scanning your badges as you made your way under the archway. Daniel smiled and waved to anyone calling his name. Shaking hands with those who came up to greet him. It made you smile, being able to watch the one you love be so loved.

It was not until after you reached his driver’s room that the thought of a potentially rogue Lando Norris flickered through your mind. With your hectic morning, the only thing that you focused on was getting out of the door and to the track. Now that you were there, you could not help but think about Lando and the antics he caused the day before. You hoped that you were not going to see a lot of him.

After setting your stuff down, Daniel suggested getting something to eat from hospitality since neither of you had eaten yet. Your stomach grumbled at the thought and that was answer enough for him. His warm, calloused hand returned to yours as you made your way back through the hallways that you had yet to familiarize yourself with.

As you waited in line for your food, you heard someone call out to Daniel behind you.

“Oy, how are the lovebirds?” Lando asked as he approached the both of you, reaching out to do one of those bro hugs with Daniel while offering you a tiny smile and a wave of his hand.

Daniel laughed as he wrapped an arm around your waist, attaching you to his side, “We are doing just peachy this morning. How are you?”

Lando quickly glanced at you before returning his attention to Daniel, “Same, though I woke in my bed alone, so it could only be so good,” he joked.

“I guess you could say I am lucky in that department,” Daniel chuckled while pressing a kiss to your head.

“I guess you are,” Lando responded, his eyes on you again.

“Are you grabbing something to eat? If so, you can join us at a table,” Daniel offered.

Lando looked as if he was debating something before agreeing to have breakfast with you guys. You grabbed your meals and headed to an open table. Lando followed closely behind. The chosen table sat four, a chair on each side. You plopped down next to Daniel, hoping that Lando would make the smart decision and sit on his opposite side, but of course, he did not. He chose to sit next to you. Flashing you a shit-eating grin as he subtly scooted his chair as close to you as possible.

“So,” Lando started, looking at you, “what are you most excited about today?”

As much as you did not want to interact with him, Lando was Daniel’s teammate and friend and you had to make an effort. So, with a smile, you responded, “Seeing the cars actually out on the track. I am so used to watching it on TV. I am sure it is much more magical in person.”

Lando nodded, pleased with your answer, “Just wait until the race. It is next-level.”

“I know. I cannot wait. Also, being able to experience what Daniel does every weekend he is away from me will be special.”

“Aww,” Daniel interjected, placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek, leaving an obvious wet mark.

“Eww,” Lando giggled, “you guys are too cute.”

Though Lando joined in on the fun, you could tell that something was simmering beneath the surface as he looked at the both of you. Was it jealousy? Lust? Whatever it was made you feel hot, radiating just beneath your skin. Remembering how Lando’s hands felt on you, how hard he was for you, the way his mouth felt around your fingers. Lando’s gaze fell on you, an amused smirk on his lips like he could tell that he affected you.

As you chatted, you slowly began to enjoy yourself. Lando was not so insufferable when Daniel was around. You could understand why Daniel liked him so much. 

During a truly riveting conversation about flying squirrels, someone called Daniel over to talk to them. With an apology and a promise to be right back, Daniel left you with Lando. 

The moment Daniel was out of hearing range, Lando opened his mouth. 

“Lucky me,” he whispered, “I got you all to myself.”

“Lando, I suggest you give up on whatever game you are playing. I am taken so you might as well save it for someone who will go for you.”

“See, that is where you are wrong,” Lando leaned in closer, his hand finding its place on your bare thigh, “I can see the way you react, that you are still thinking about yesterday.”

You shook your head as he began drawing random shapes on your leg. Teasingly moving higher and higher until his fingers dipped under the hem of your dress. If you were hot before, you were on fire now.

“Believe me, sweetheart, I couldn’t stop thinking about it last night either. While I came all over myself. Calling out your name,” his eyes sparkled, telling you as if you were discussing the weather.

You whimpered as you avoided eye contact with Daniel’s teammate. You were absolutely fucked. Lando’s fingers found their place along the edge of your underwear, almost close enough to where you wanted him. As if they had a mind of your own, your legs opened further. Directing him to run a finger along your dripping pussy.

 “Look at me, sweetheart,” Lando whispered. 

Against your mind's wishes, you did. The strong desperate look of desire overflowed from Lando’s eyes. It made you shiver. 

Before you could respond, Daniel reappeared.

“Whatcha guys whispering about?” he hushed as he returned to his seat next to you, placing his hand on your other thigh and squeezing it. Lando’s hand quickly disappeared from the other, and you felt like you could breathe again.

“I was just telling her about some embarrassing stories about you,” Lando teased with a cough.

Daniel groaned, “Aw, come on, mate.”

The rest of the conversation went on like that. Daniel and Lando went back and forth while you sat there quietly. Picking at your meal until you had finished, and only interjecting when spoken directly to. Soon the three of you made your way back to their driver's rooms. Lando disappeared into his room with a wave, and you and Daniel walked through the next door over. 

The remainder of the morning was just as busy with them needing to do more media and a briefing, and then Daniel did a quick workout followed by a stretching routine. Not wanting to sit in the room all day, you followed Daniel around when you could, watching as he charmed every person he encountered. You could not be luckier. 

Before you knew it, it was time for free practice. You and Daniel made your way down to the garage, where you had the privilege to watch from there. Daniel led you around and introduced you to any people he previously missed. You were buzzing with excitement, and you could tell how much joy Daniel got from sharing this part of his life with you. 

When Daniel got deep into a conversation with one of his engineers, you realized that you left your phone back in his room. You informed him that you were going back to get it. He shot you a smile and a thumbs up to confirm he heard you. 

As you walked down the hallway, almost to the room, you heard a noise. You stopped trying to figure out where it had come from when it happened again. Was that a moan? You thought. Then you heard it again, this time a little louder. Definitely a moan. 

Your head whipped to the right and noticed that Lando’s door was slightly ajar. Not enough that it was immediately noticeable but when you did you got a clear view into the small room. 

There lying on the couch was Lando, completely dressed in his fireproofs and race suit, which was hanging around his hips, but his fingers were wrapped around his cock. He was beautiful, girthy, and long, the tip flushed and leaking. His eyes were closed and his mouth was open, moaning every time his hands ran over the tip of his dick. The obscene sound of him getting off made you hot. Your mouth watered at the thought of how it would feel to wrap your lips around him. Forcing him down your throat while his big hands gripped your hair. Fucking into your mouth until he was whining and pink, as he looked down at you taking him all in. Those erotic blue eyes staring back at you, telling you how much of a good girl you were, and you took his cock so well. 

You stood there for what seemed like forever, fantasizing, and you could tell that he was getting close. His hips bucked up into his hand while the other was shoved in his mouth so he would not make so much noise. Precum was leaking out of him like a faucet. It was a sight to see. 

You were pressing your thighs together, trying to dull the ache. Losing your balance as you did so. While you attempted to correct yourself, your hands braced against the door pushing it open that much more. 

Lando’s eyes flew open as he heard the movement. The moment he locked eyes on you. He was cumming all over his fist, in hot spurts. His fireproof top was covered in his own release, which he would no doubt have to change. The desire to lick his cum from his chest was almost too strong not to give into. You wanted him in ways you couldn’t understand. 

The look Lando gave you was intense causing your unsteady knees to buckle. But he looked pleased. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, how the tables have turned,” Lando joked, his voice thick from his orgasm. 

You opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out. So, you snapped it shut and quickly turned to leave, shutting the door completely before grabbing your phone in haste. 

Luckily, you made your way back to the garage without running into Lando. That was something that you do not think you could’ve handled at that moment. 

Daniel was still standing hunched over a monitor with some strategists, so you hung back and observed. Watching the way he gestured with his hands to emphasize a serious point, or the furrow of his brow when debating the pros and cons of a particular setup. You couldn’t get over the love you had for him and the guilt that was brewing in your stomach about how much you wanted Lando. 

As you were making heart eyes at Daniel, you felt someone come up behind you. Their fingertips trailed down your spine until their hand came to rest on your lower back. Their warm breath fell over the back of your neck causing your hair to stand on end. 

He was too close. Far too close but you couldn’t help but to lean into his touch. 

“I am lucky it was you who walked by,” Lando stated cheekily.  

You blushed just thinking about the recent memory, trying to ignore the man behind you and the feeling of his hands on your body. 

“Maybe you will think about me while Daniel is fucking into you later tonight. Calling out my name instead of his as you come. I am sure he would love that,” Lando taunted when you did not respond. His voice inching ever closer to your ear. 

You ignored him once again, but your body was a traitor. Your mouth opened as your breathing increased and the hold on your phone tightened. 

“Sweetheart, you can try to deny that you feel anything, but I can see how your body reacts. You want me just as much as I want you.”

Then in the middle of the crowded room and with your boyfriend only a couple of feet away, Lando licked down the shell of your ear before giving it a nip. You yelped, though it sounded more like a moan in your ears. Thankfully, no one heard over the wheel guns going off. 

At that moment, you turned to look at Lando completely. Moving away from his warmth so you have a moment to think straight. 

“Lando, I am with Daniel. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. So give it a rest,” you sighed, trying to regain some sort of control. Because being around Lando makes it feel like you might slip at any moment. 

Lando smirked, “Daniel can join us if he wants.”

Before you could respond someone from Lando’s side of the garage was calling him over. He looked annoyed but left without a glance back. 

You stood there for a couple of minutes before Daniel made his way over to you, that beautiful smile on his lips. He took you into his arms when he got close enough, your hands resting on his chest. 

“I saw Lando talking to you. I am glad that you two seem to be getting along.”

“Yeah, he is nice,” you responded, as if trying to convince yourself but doing a poor job of it. 

Daniel gave you a questioning look but did not ask any further questions. 

Then he was called over since free practice was about to start. With a grin, he pressed a kiss to your lips and made his way over to his car. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur, between all the technical jargon that you tried your hardest to understand, and attempting to understand the top-secret run plans. But, it was overall unbelievably enjoyable. 

Luckily, you did not have to interact with Lando for the rest of the day. He was too focused on his job, rightfully so. But that did not stop him from glancing over at you any chance he got. 

Once Daniel was done with all his duties, you gathered all your belongings and said goodbye to everyone on your way out. 

Being the sweet boyfriend that he is, Daniel had organized for you two to have dinner at a local spot, something away from the crowds with a homey feel. The hostess directed you to a small table secluded from the rest of the patrons. Giving you and Daniel enough privacy to enjoy each other's company without the fear of people listening in. 

“I am so glad you have been enjoying the race weekend so far,” Daniel said once the food and drinks were ordered, grabbing your hand in the process. 

His honey eyes were so open and loving as he stared at you. 

“Me too. I am beyond happy that I have had the time to do this, and I will need to plan to come to another one sooner rather than later.”

Daniel smiled, “Really?”

You nodded, “Of course, I feel closer to you when I am here.”

Daniel beamed and leaned over the table to kiss you. His warm hand came to rest on your jaw in the most tender way. The kiss was filled with an overwhelming amount of love. It took your breath away.

The rest of dinner passed with Daniel and you in your own little bubble. Loving touches and delicate kisses were in abundance. The food was delicious, the wine was flowing, and the company was the highlight of it all. You loved nothing more than spending time with Daniel. 

Towards the end of the dinner, Daniel and you were sharing a chocolate mousse. He looked deep into your eyes and casually asked, “So, what’s up with you and Lando?”

Your mouth dried, and your heart accelerated. 

“What do you mean?” you stammered, focused on the dessert in front of you. 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Daniel challenged softly, his expression neutral.

It was at that moment that you had an out, a chance to be open about what has been going on. You knew you were going to have to tell him eventually. But, if you were being honest, you were enjoying this game with Lando a little too much, and you were not sure if you were ready for it to end. Fuck, you thought. 

Part 2 | Part 4

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knows there's only one way to contend with what Carl did, and he will gladly do it for you. All he wants is his house, his kid and his girl. You on the other hand don't know quite how to deal with anything that's going on, because it all seems out of your control. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, fighting, blood, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You were so anxious for your first day of work, you actually woke up way too early and spilled blazing hot coffee all over your scrubs, forcing you to make a detour back to the bedroom to get changed. All you seemed to be able to think about was that video. That goddamn video. You wished you never looked in that box in the attic.

Once again, you were on the verge of tears as you pulled on a clean top and went to wake Noah up for the day. Everything felt like too much right now unless he was with you. The fact that you were as dependent on Noah as he was on you was probably nothing to brag about, but he really lit up every time you read to him or made him food. And you felt much better inside when he was snuggled up with you or holding your hand. 

You felt like his mom. You felt like you belonged here with him. He trusted you to take care of him, and you always would. But your confidence where Bradley was concerned felt stunted now, and you couldn't even talk to him about it. If you were even strong enough to bring it up at all. 

Noah climbed out of bed and went right to you for a hug, never questioning if he was welcome with you. "Morning, sweet Noah," you whispered against his soft hair. "Did you have happy dreams?"

He yawned and said, "Yeah. I was a pink dinosaur, and all of the other dinosaurs were afraid of me. So I got to eat all the Skittles."

"Wow," you said with a laugh as you carried him into the kitchen for breakfast. "That's the best dream I've ever heard of."

"Yeah, I know." 

He ate some eggs while you successfully drank your coffee and vanilla creamer without spilling it this time. And when you dropped him off at daycare, the same girl was working at the front desk.

"Hi, Noah," she said sweetly before handing you the clipboard to sign with a bland expression. You kissed Noah on the cheek and watched him walk in with the other kids before you signed your name. "And will you be picking him up again today, or should we be expecting another babysitter?"

You froze, and a startled laugh escaped your lips. "I'll be picking him up. And I'm the only babysitter." She appraised you again, so you added, "Only the best for Lieutenant Bradshaw and his son," before you spun on your heel and strolled out to the parking lot. 

You were driving the Bronco. You were in charge of Noah. Bradley was acting like some sort of sugar daddy boyfriend with the credit card you had tucked in your wallet. You shouldn't have been feeling insecure at all. You tried not to think about anything except getting to work on time for your first day. 

And being out of the house did help. You met all of the doctors and other nurses, and some of them were your age. Dr. Kelly treated you to lunch, and you got to chat with her a bit. You learned you'd get to assist with a few special needs kids later in the week. It was exciting. You had your own tiny workspace. Being there occupied your mind. 

But when you were asked to fill out a small stack of new hire paperwork in the afternoon, your pen stopped on the page multiple times. You hesitated twice before you eventually wrote Bradley's address as your own. You wrote his name and phone number down as your emergency contact, but you felt ridiculous writing 'boyfriend' where it asked for your relationship to him. After a brief debate, you wrote it anyway and moved on. And a beneficiary for your life insurance? Well, you didn't really have anyone else, so you put Noah. 

And then when you handed everything back in, you felt kind of like you were pretending to be an adult. 

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

Bradley waited on his bunk for Carl to return. It was getting late, and he wondered where the fuck he was. Without completely dismantling the tiny room, Bradley had searched through as much of Carl's shit as he could. And that was after confirming that he was only missing the one polaroid that you sent with him. 

His ears were ringing. Fingers twitching. He was absolutely repulsed by the thought of anyone else looking at that picture. But especially Carl. That was a line you just didn't cross with a bunkmate. Bradley had seen some wild shit in his days, walked in on some things he wished he could unsee. But you simply did not mess with personal items. And you certainly didn't take anything under any circumstances without permission. And if it was anything pertaining to a wife, girlfriend or significant other, it was absolutely forbidden. 

And if you broke any of these unwritten rules, well... you should know what you were in for. 

When Bradley heard a key in the door close to midnight, his hands automatically curled into fists. Your pretty face popped into his mind, smiling up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. Even though you weren't here, you deserved to be defended right now. He'd protect you and Noah until he used up his dying breath. And that just meant things weren't looking too hot for Carl at the moment. 

The other man strolled in wearing his gym clothes, and it struck Bradley that Carl was probably a little older than he was. He was in good shape, too, but that wouldn't stop Bradley from beating the absolute shit out of him if necessary. 

"What's up, Carl?" he asked, remaining seated with his fists planted on either side of him on the bed. When Carl seemed barely able to meet his eyes, Bradley knew for sure.

"Hey," he replied awkwardly. "Just wanted to hit the gym when it was empty."

Bradley just watched him for a few seconds, silently demanding eye contact. When Carl finally stopped bumbling around and met his eyes, Bradley slowly stood. "Where is it?"

Carl's eyes flashed with panic as Bradley rolled his shoulders and took a step closer in the already limited space. "What? What are you talking about?" He tried to back away, but there was really nowhere to go. 

"If you make me ask again, it's going to be a lot worse for you, man."

"I... I..." Carl's eyes followed Bradley's left hand as he loosened his fist. And then Bradley slammed him back against the door. 

"You know better," Bradley growled. "This isn't your first deployment. You know the rules. And it belongs to me. Where. Is. It?"

"The photo?" Carl whispered as Bradley pressed the heel of his hand against his sternum with even more pressure. 

Bradley raised his voice. "Where the hell is it? It better have never left this fucking room."

"I have it!" Carl swore, and Bradley released him.

"Get it," Bradley said as calmly as he could, but his voice was shaking. He watched Carl dig around in his bedding, procuring the photo of you and your perfect tits and your barely concealed pussy. Bradley had a flashback to Noah's birthday party when Jake kissed you. Then he pictured you at the fraternity house, drunk and helpless. Carl was about to pay a pretty large price. 

"Here," he grunted, extending the polaroid out to Bradley. Once he set it down on top of his dresser, making sure the photo was still perfect, he turned back to Carl and sucker punched him right on the nose. 

Blood was gushing onto his gym shirt as Bradley said, "That's fucked up, Carl. You had my photo in your bed."

He was holding his nose, looking at Bradley with guilty eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"That's my girl, you piece of shit." Bradley was seething as he rammed Carl back up against the door. 

"She's your girl?" he asked, trying to stop the bleeding with both hands now. "She looks barely legal. How old is she?"

Bradley released him and took a step back before he did more damage than he intended to. "Do you really think it's a good idea to ask me that, Carl? You probably jerked it to my girlfriend after you stole my photo, and now you're asking me how old she is?" He was panting, letting the rage flow through him, and then both hands curled into fists again.

"Shit, I didn't- I wasn't-"

"You're not very bright, are you?" Bradley asked, cutting him off. "I'll let you walk out of this room with your face mostly intact as long as you guarantee that you'll wear your bruises around this carrier without even so much as looking in my direction. And don't you dare visit the infirmary. Your indiscretion doesn't blow back on me. You got it?"

Carl looked resigned as he lowered his hands from his face and nodded. "Yeah. I got it."

Then Bradley landed one more punch, hard as hell, and Carl staggered around the room for a few seconds before he managed to take himself out into the hallway and toward the bathroom. Bradley carefully picked up his polaroid, and his heart ached. He was yours, and he'd have done anything to see your beautiful face in person right now.

And if Carl didn't so much as speak to him or look at him again for the rest of the deployment, it would be just fine with Bradley.

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

You always felt like you were rushing around. When you got out of work an hour early one Wednesday, you decided to use the time to go grocery shopping before you picked up Noah. It was easier to get just the necessities this way. The downside was that you were definitely getting lost in your own thoughts as you stood in the produce area selecting apples. 

It was almost a relief that Bradley hadn't contacted you yet. If you had to look him in the eye right now, you weren't sure you could do it without crying. That USB drive was currently on top of the refrigerator where you couldn't see it, but it was still enough to upset you when you thought about it. But at the same time, you missed your boyfriend and wanted him to come home, and you knew Noah would benefit from talking to him.

You wasted so much time looking at fucking apples that you were going to be late if you didn't get going. You winced as you used the purple princess credit card to pay for the food, and then you organized everything in the back of the Bronco. You loved driving it and briefly wondered if he'd still let you after he got home. 

You pulled into the gas station that was just a few blocks from Noah's daycare, once again using Bradley's credit card. You sighed as you inserted the card for payment and then started to fill the tank. And then you looked up toward the next row of pumps, and you were sure you knew that BMW. A second later, you met Meredith's gaze, and a chill went through your body.

You were afraid your voice was going to shake, but you called out, "You're not supposed to come near me."

She laughed maliciously. "This is a gas station, and I was here first. So maybe you should stay away from me."

"With pleasure," you snarled. You had to close your eyes against the sick feeling that rose inside you. Naked. You could picture her naked. Bradley used to love her. 

"You already ruined my life," Meredith snapped. "So your little restraining order stunt really doesn't matter to me." Then she was climbing into her car, and you watched her peel out of the parking lot and into traffic, heading in the opposite direction from Noah's daycare. 

Your hands were unsteady as you finished up at the gas pump. She was right; she had been at the gas station first. She was with Bradley first. She was Noah's mom before you ever came into the picture as his babysitter. She was everywhere, and she wouldn't go away.

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

Bradley emailed you days ago to let you know he would be able to FaceTime with you and Noah tonight, but you'd only written back, "Sounds good." You didn't give him any updates. You didn't call him Daddy. You didn't say anything else. 

Sounds good.

He grunted as he worked out in the gym. The sooner he could get this deployment completed and get home, the better. Carl's face was starting to look better now, but Bradley smiled every time he saw the bruises. He had no idea what excuse the other man had given for looking like a raccoon with two black eyes and a bent nose, and he didn't really fucking care. If anyone assumed he was the one who caused the bruising, they probably also assumed it was warranted. 

Those polaroids were wrapped up and put away now. But Bradley wanted the real thing. Your body and your voice. He'd been thinking about how insufficient it felt to call you his girlfriend. Just the same way you'd always felt like more than Noah's babysitter to them. But now with your lack of a real response, Bradley felt a little foolish for thinking about proposing to you. 

When it was time to make the call home, he sighed deeply. And when you answered your phone on the living room couch, your expression was hesitant. 

"Princess," he rasped, holding the iPad with both hands. "Baby. I miss you."

It felt like an eternity before you responded. "We miss you, too." 

He had so much he wanted to say and talk about, but your voice was just a little too soft, and your eyes were just a little too sad. "What's wrong?" he asked, but you were already shaking your head.

"Here. Talk to Noah." And then you were out of the frame, and Noah was there. Bradley laughed as he talked about daycare and making something called peanut butter snails and going for hikes. He held up some of the coloring sheets he had worked on, and Bradley noted that you had dated all of them. You always did little things like that. Now he'd be able to see which days his son worked on the coloring sheets when he got home. 

"I miss you so much, bub."

"Will you come home soon?" Noah asked, and Bradley's heart absolutely melted. 

"Really soon. And we can go to the beach and maybe take a little vacation, okay? Now can you sit with Princess so I can talk to her, too?"

And then you were immediately back in the frame and scooping Noah onto your lap. So you must have been standing right there the whole time. 

"That's better," Bradley sighed. His house, his kid, his girl. "You have no idea how much I wish I was on that couch with you." 

You smiled softly. "Do you know when you'll be back?"

"I'm not sure, Baby. Not soon enough. Tell me about work."

So you indulged him in a few stories, and it sounded like you fit in there. You liked your coworkers, especially Dr. Kelly. You loved all the kids you got to talk to and care for all day. But you still seemed a little distant.

"Are you sleeping okay?" he asked. "Any issues?"

You pressed a kiss to Noah's cheek and said, "We just miss you. That's all."

"We want you to come home," Noah whined. 

"Please?" you added softly. 

"So soon," he reiterated, wishing he could give you both a kiss. "Watch for my emails?"

"I will," you promised. 

"I love you. Both of you."

Then you and Noah said in unison, "I love you, too." And then he had to end the call.

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

Well it was done now. You were on your way to get the last few things from your place with Noah before you turned your key over to your landlord. Or former landlord. You were done paying rent here, and now you could start helping Bradley pay his mortgage. In fact, he would be home in a few days, and you'd talk to him about it then. There were actually a lot of things you wanted to have a conversation about.

"Do you remember when you came here for dinner? And I made you spaghetti in my little kitchen?"

"That was a long time ago," Noah insisted, and you held his hand as you walked up the sidewalk. "You live at my house now."

"Yep," you replied softly as you let go of his hand and dug around in your bag for the key you hardly ever used now. "Let's just hope that makes your Daddy happy and not annoyed since I never really gave him a verbal answer," you mumbled, finally locating the key. 

As you shoved it into the lock, Noah knelt down and picked something up from the porch. "What's this?" he asked, reaching his hand up to you.

Your eyes went wide. "Drop it," you said right away, and he let the piece of broken glass fall back to the porch. But there was more. Both of you were standing in it, and when you reached to turn the knob, there must have been a shard there.

"Shit," you gasped as your right palm started bleeding. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you kicked the door fully open. One of the panes of glass in the door had been smashed, and there was more of the mess on the floor inside. "Don't touch anything," you hissed, and Noah started crying. 

You kept him close enough to take a few pictures as soon as you were able to fumble with your phone. You took seven photos of all the glass plus the item that had been left. For you. It was just a dollar store coloring book, but there was a note on top of it written in crayon. Have fun playing house.

It had to have been from Meredith. Who else could have done it? She was already claiming you ruined her life. And ever since you saw her at the gas station, you were nervous that wasn't the last of her.

Blood was starting to pool a little bit in your upturned palm, and there wasn't much you could do at the moment except for ruin your shirt. "Let's get out of here," you whispered, and the two of you walked back across the porch, the glass crunching beneath your feet. 

You were able to buckle Noah with one hand, but even when you got back to Bradley's house, you were still bleeding. And the glass needed to be removed. So you finally caved and called Natasha. 

"I kind of need your help," you told her vaguely over the phone.

She laughed in response. "I kind of need a lot of things. What can I do for you?"

"Can you come by and help me remove a piece of glass from my dominant hand?"

"Fuck. Of course. I'm on my way," she replied, all tones of joking  gone. 

She was there in less than fifteen minutes, and she washed her hands right away. Then she used the sterilized tweezers that you handed to her to carefully remove the glass. "Just the one piece?" she asked, meeting your eyes. 

"I think so. I already checked Noah really thoroughly."

Nat's expression darkened. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

You were pressing some gauze against your palm now. You might need stitches. You would probably benefit from getting stitches. But you couldn't do them yourself with your left hand, and you didn't want to leave Noah right now. Not even with Nat. He was watching a Mickey Mouse cartoon on the couch, and you didn't want him further away from you than that. 

"It was just some broken glass," you replied. 

"Here?" she asked, looking around the kitchen.

"No. At my old place. It's fine. I just need to tell my landlord about it, and I'll replace it." You were amazed how easily you were able to keep your voice steady. 

"Right," Nat replied with an unamused look. "Bradley will be home in a couple days? Do you want me to stay here until he's back?"

"Of course not. We're fine," you insisted, averting your gaze.

She stood to leave and sighed deeply. "Please call me back if you need anything, okay? And do us both a favor and don't lie to Bradley when you pick him up."

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "I won't," you said softly. And after she left, you took Noah into bed with you and snuggled him tight. 

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

I hate Carl. I hate Meredith. I want Daddy to come home. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 32

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[hetalimagines]

General headcanons for Alfred as a boyfriend (SFW)

Here's my first actual post on this blog, hehe... I can't find the ask but someone requested some Alfred headcanons, so here are my rambles about what I think he's like as a boyfriend!

He’s honestly not the most traditionally romantic person. Your relationship is more like friends who make out sometimes. But he does have his own little ways of showing you he loves you!

He’ll put together playlists of songs that remind him of you. They’re mostly loose connections, like maybe a song mentions your eye color, or the lyrics remind him of a date you went on together, or it just sounds romantic and makes him wanna kiss you. He likes to sit with you while you listen (to every single song), and he interrupts the songs a bit to explain why he chose them.

“This one had me thinking what if we were dancing in a ballroom together, and out of nowhere, bam! Zombies bust in. The door crashes to the ground! Our dance turns into one of those cool fighting scenes with the—oh, this part reminded me of the time I woke up early and you were about to fall off the bed. You had a cute bedhead.”

(You have no idea what the lyrics are at this point.)

Dates with him are pretty casual, more like “hanging out” than anything fancy. Maybe you stay at home and watch movies/play games, or you go out for dinner at a local diner, or you go do awful karaoke together, or you go and prank a friend together.

He’s happy as long as he’s with you. Bonus if there’s food and/or drink.

He occasionally takes you out to a more traditional restaurant and dresses for the occasion. They’re usually expensive, too. The food isn’t his preference (too complicated for his palate), but if it makes you happy, he’s all for dealing with it for just one night.

His primary love languages are acts of service and quality time. He’s always doing what he can to help you out (and feel proud of himself in the process). Whether he helps you run errands, runs a bath for you ahead of time, or fluffs your pillow before you get in bed, it’s all because he wants to make your life easier!

He gets a little jealous if you ever spend time with your shared friends without him, or if you spend more time with others than him.

He’s so excited if you take interest in any of his hobbies. Movies? He’ll ask if you want to co-write a script with him. (He’s very relaxed about what exactly ends up in the script.) Archaeology? He has so many random facts to dump on you, and he’ll be super impressed by any knowledge you have on it. Conspiracy theories? Time to watch a bunch of documentaries! He enjoys them despite their flaws, but lets you know exactly when something is false and what actually happened.

He tries to take interest in your hobbies, too, even if he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. It could be the most boring thing and he’d still listen and ask you questions about it. If it makes you happy, he wants to know all about it.

Pet names from him consist of things like babe, dude (💀), honey, occasionally sweetie, (jokingly… mostly) prince or princess. It’s all over the place. He’ll call you honey and dude back-to-back sometimes.

He loves debating if you’re comfortable with it! But be warned, he gets very heated about certain topics. His sense of justice is important to him. Otherwise, he’s usually not serious about these debates and doesn’t care who wins.

He tries to keep things light and doesn’t usually let people see his more serious side. He’ll open up to you more over time, however. It’s really him letting a wall down and allowing himself to get closer to you.

Every now and then, he has days where he’s a lot quieter and calmer than usual. He just wants to relax, stay on the couch with you and watch movies or simply chat. Maybe a movie chattering in the background as he tells you about his childhood. He doesn’t try so hard to keep up this energetic, heroic persona.

He’s right back to normal the next day like nothing happened.

Likes to annoy you for fun. Not in a mean-spirited way. He just thinks your responses are cute and has poor impulse control. Poking your cheeks or ruffling your hair or playing an obnoxious song loudly on the stereo while he dances. But he’ll back off if you’re genuinely upset with him. He means no harm.

He loves if you’re willing to play along with whatever he gets up to. Maybe he’s decided he’s going to try and vacuum the whole house while doing a handstand on the vacuum. You can hold onto his legs to help him stay balanced.

This man is very impulsive and has a tendency to get himself hurt. Random bruises all over his body or a cut along his forearm. He bounces back easily, and doesn’t want to fuss over it, but he lowkey likes if you baby him about it. He’ll always say how it’s not a big deal and he can take it, but his heart does this little flutter when you show concern, and even more if you force him to take better care of himself.

He burns himself in the kitchen and you force him to run it under cold water. He’s swooning inside.

He likes to gossip about others, especially over breakfast. He can’t help it; he’s just nosy, and he always has an idea of what’s going on and how he can help out. Huge bonus if you gossip with him!

He loves to feed you, but the majority of the food he brings for you is burgers or tubs of ice cream. He likes to experiment with the burgers’ toppings and seasonings, but they’re all burgers nonetheless.

Every now and then, he does plan some big romantic endeavor. It’s like a surprise. You never know when it’s coming… You wake up one morning and find out he’s booked a week long cruise, your bedroom is filled with balloons, and there’s enough breakfast food on the table to feed an army.

He does this thing sometimes (often) where he swoops in and has to save you. A puddle on the ground? No need to fear! He picks you up and swiftly carries you over it. The safest place for you is in his arms. He’ll even lay down and let you use him as a bridge if you want.

A suspicious penny on the sidewalk? LOOK OUT, IT MIGHT BE A BOMB! Let HIM step on it before you get blown up!

He steps on it. Nothing happens. Better safe than sorry!

If you’re the more independent type, that won’t stop him from trying. He just wants to keep you safe and have you appreciate his efforts. Being disinterested or resistant will just make him try harder.

Says cheesy stuff like “happy wife, happy life” unironically. He’s also the type to use terrible pickup lines to flirt with you. Totally unaware of how bad they are until you start laughing.

He also doesn’t care that they’re bad. He’s just having fun.

Loves to give you his clothes to wear. Seriously. You want one of his hoodies? Try six of them.

You complain when one stops smelling like him so he puts it on, works out, then gives it back to you like :D! Fixed the problem!

He takes so many pictures of you guys. Videos, too. His phone storage is eaten up by it. His favorite thing is to take selfies together. Usually with some silly filter. Or an even sillier caption.

“me and the babe out shopping” and it’s a picture of you, holding a piece of fruit with the dog ears filter

He’s not the most physically affectionate, but he always gives you morning kisses and especially kisses before leaving the house. He also loves carrying you around (mostly bridal style) in his arms for no reason other than he can. A hand on your back, another on your thighs, your head pressed against his chest. He loves it.

He loves knowing you find him physically attractive! He worries sometimes about being too overweight, so any reassurance that you like his body helps. If you think he’s hot, and you’re hot yourself, that must mean he definitely is.

Has a tendency to call you hot, but he’ll call you other things if it makes you uncomfortable.

Occasionally brags about you and how lucky he is. Not as often as you might think. Though he gets oddly competitive if anyone acts like their partner is better than you and starts spouting whatever he can so everyone knows you’re the absolute best. No competition.

[lilacgaby]

day three

~2.3k

chapter select!

she woke up right before her alarm went off.

she saw messages on her phone, some addressed from mirko telling her to "hurry the hell

up or get left behind." some from a new group chat called 'OPERATION [NAME]', and a couple from bakugo.

whatever, she'd look them over later.

she took her time as she showered, got dressed in a civilian outfit, and soaked in the early morning sun from her balcony.

everyone else had heroes who'd stop by later to pick them up in the afternoon, so [name] was pretty much the only person up.

she was startled by a loud noise at the door. she was hanging around in the common room to pass some time, but since she was lost in though she let out an audible squeal at the sound.

she figured it was just mirko was banging on it to get her attention.

and it was.

she opened the door and stepped outside. mirko was dressed casually too, and she was carrying her own bag of belongings on her back.

"be more considerate! people are sleeping!"

"it's only six a.m [name], they have to be getting up at this hour anyways."

"whatever."

"anyways, we have a train to catch so let's go!" mirko then grabbed her hand and started their trek down to the station. they could've got a car,

but they both preferred to walk.

after a bit of walking and sitting in a comfortable silence, [name] decides to get some details on the mission.

"so mirko, what exactly is this mission about?"

"oh, it's just another couple of villains, except these ones are rumored to have connections to stain."

"stain? the hero killer? but isn't he--"

"dead, correct. but his influence was huge. apparently this group of villains have actually killed a hero already."

"what?!"

"yeah, and that's why we're going in. don't worry though, we'll have backup, or i guess partners, that you'll love."

"what do you mean?"

"you'll see."

"...

okay, where are we going anyways? you never take me on trains."

"oh, i didn't tell you? we're going to tokyo."

"tokyo? for what?"

"oh,

i decided to take on a mission with best jeanist's agency. i told you you'd love it!"

...

"i'm going to kill you."

ꔛ𖤐˒˒

as she sat on the train next to mirko, her finger hovered over the notification from bakugo.

she had to face him eventually, and they had to talk, but she couldn't help but feel deeply embarrassed.

technically they did kiss.

her face felt hot.

"hey, who're you texting? your boyfriend."

"i'm not texting anybody and i don't have a boyfriend. stop asking questions when you know i'll answer!"

"okay okay.

...

so what're you doing then?"

"i'm debating whether or not to text katsuki back."

mirko's smug face took over as she snickered.

"shut up!"

[name] shoved her headphones on, maybe if she didn't hear her she wouldn't have to answer the questions.

the temporary solution did work, but mirko grew agitated that she wasn't answering her so

she took her phone right out her hands.

"mirko! hand it back!" [name] stood up immediately, her heart rate rising almost instantly as mirko held it in her iron grip. the headphones fell out her ears and her music was now blasting in the train,

she'd be publically embarrassed if they didn't have the car all to themselves, but she still just wanted her phone back.

"give it back mirko! i swear--"

"stop ignoring me, im your mentor y'know!"

they chased each other around the train car, [name] just barely behind mirko.

after about a minute of struggle, she tried negotiating.

"okay, just give it back-"

"no way-"

"why? is it because you're scared of me texting back your blasty little crush?"

"that's exactly why so hand it bac--"

they were cut off by a husky, sleepy voice.

"the fuck are you talking about?"

[name] eyed her phone in horror, and mirko did in surprise, mirko immediately threw the phone at [name] and ran to the other side of the train car.

[name] fumbled with it in her grip, until finally shakily holding the phone with one hand.

she was stunned into silence. this had to be a joke.

"hello? flower freak? you there?"

it wasn't just a joke?!

"hello? [name]?"

"i'm here-- fuck. i- uh-- gotta go!"

"wai-"

she cut him off as she declined the call. she looked at the duration of the call.

no way.

it went on for two minutes.

he heard her fight for her life over his messages to her for two minutes.

while she didn't explicitly explain who her crush was, mirko did.

[name] turned over to eye mirko, who was now sitting in a corner pretending to be nonchalantly whistling.

whatever. [name] wearily thought as she sat back down on a seat, picking up her headphones that had fallen out during the confrontation. she put on some music and mindlessly started hoping to anyone that'd hear her out that bakugo didn't hear mirko's remark.

the rest of the train ride wasn't that bad. mirko finally, begrudgingly, apologized for taking it to far, and promised to take [name] out to eat after the mission was over.

they sat next to eachother, mirko promising not to use the truth quirk against her again because of the incident that just occurred.

[name] appreciated the sentiment, but it wouldnt undo the months of late night pondering she'd have of this moment.

she got over it for the moment being, after about another fifteen minutes they finally were let out in Tokyo.

it was really pretty there, compared to musutafu, it was really lively too.

mirko guided them to a very fancy hotel where they'd be staying in one of the very highest floors.

they dropped their stuff off and got ready in their hero outfits.

they took a break to eat lunch, [name] laying out on the terrace of the huge hotel as mirko devoured a large salad next to her. she didn't know mirko meant they'd literally have the floor to themselves, but she wasn't complaining.

it was time for them to head out.

"okay, you ready flora?"

"yes i am prepared.

...

as ready as ever i guess."

"don't be like that! he probably didn't even hear-"

"we were yelling into the phone. he definitely heard."

"okay, and so what? he probably likes you back!"

"no way. just let it go mirko, we have to walk like two miles."

"fine, if you say so."

the walk to best jeanist's agency was actually fun for [name]. she got to walk through all the tourist traps, look around while mirko signed autographs, and even take a couple photos on her phone.

oh yeah, her phone. she had now twenty-two notifications from bakugo since the ordeal, including missed calls, texts, and even voicemails.

she didn't even open them, she knew she'd have to talk to him face to face anyways. she felt a pit of dread settle in her stomach, but looked up at the agency greeting both her and mirko.

they walked in.

⋆ ₊ ☽ ·˚𓍲 *⋆

They were greeted by one of Jeanist's many assistants, who guided them to a meeting room where a briefing was already taking place.

"we're late mirko?"

"yes, it's not my fault though, i did it all for the fans."

"...if you say so."

they walked into the meeting, [name] felt familiar red eyes following her as she settled into a seat next to mirko.

"okay, everyone's here. let's continue." jeanist declared, seemingly unbothered at mirko's tardiness.

[name] took a moment to look over the room. there were a couple other sidekicks, but the only U-A interns were her and katsuki.

she suddenly remembered she had to focus.

on the screen was a couple of locations marked in red circles, depicting different areas where heros reported being attacked by the group.

a lower ranked hero: blast-off, a hero with a rocket quirk, was murdered by said group, and his corpse was found in various places.

brutal. [name] thought.

"these villains aren't confident enough to attack higher ranked heroes such as mirko and i, they are currently planning on targeting another low-ranked hero on their route: genie." jeanist explained.

"what they don't know is that you will be waiting for them to attack genie, and step in as they reveal themselves. not even genie knows." an assistant added.

"wait, so they're basically bait?" [name] questioned.

"in a sense." jeanist replied. "if they knew, they'd likely act aloof and alert the villains. it's a necessary step."

"so, we set out tomorrow?" mirko questioned.

"no, you and i will go out patrolling the town discreetly. tomorrow we will go out accompanied by our interns, with my sidekicks on standby.

i understand you won't want your intern walking back to your arranged rooms alone, so after they go through some training here my assistant will make arrangements to take them."

"i'll go with them." katsuki finally spoke.

"it's settled then. mirko, please stay behind as we prepare for our afternoon scouting. dynamight, take flora to practice. do not push yourselves, understood?"

"understood." [name] replied, while bakugo grunted in agreement.

"dismissed."

everyone went their separate ways. [name] was doing her best to act causally as she and katsuki walked side by side to the practice room.

"so, uh.. nice weather huh?"

"why have you been ignoring me?"

crap.

"what do you mean katsuki? you're acting so crazy right now."

"no, i'm not. you didn't even try to talk about what happened yesterday with me, and then you randomly fucking call me at six in the goddamn morning. and i overhear some argument between you and that bugs bunny wannabe, just for you to decline on me, dick move by the way.

so, what's your deal?

you've been acting off around me since sunday."

he let out a scoff, and jokingly said

"what, you got a crush on me or something?"

"yes."

"what?"

both their eyes widened as the words left her mouth. crap, the whole operation was done for!

"was that a joke?"

"no."

she quickly located the practice room that was just around the corner, and tried to speed walk away.

"are you being serious right now? [name]? [name] we're training together you can't get away!"

she stumbled into the training room.

her life was over, but she still had to train, unless she really wanted her life to be over when she fought those guys tomorrow.

katsuki lightly grabbed her shoulder and made her face him.

"[name] fucking talk to me! stop being so shitty and confusing! why won't you just tell me the truth?!"

"because i'm scared of rejection!"

"i'd never-- i wouldn't reject you. just tell me the truth."

she sighed heavily. she didn't really process his last words, but she decided to tell him.

about the quirk at least.

"okay, so, sunday right? i took a hit for mirko-"

"you're insane."

"let me finish! i took a hit from mirko and got hit by this quirk. it basically makes you tell the truth whenever anyone asks a question, and it lasts a week."

"why didn't you tell me?"

"i was scared."

"who knows?"

"mirko, denki, kirishima, mina, momo, jiro--"

"so everyone except me, huh? damn. and the thing about your 'problems'?"

"a real bad lie from denki."

"so what you said earlie--"

"let's train. i don't want to answer any of that now. and, about what i said earlier..

can i talk to you about it after the mission?"

katsuki's face scrunched up. the emotion he was displaying was incoherent. disgust? anger? rejection?

but he understood her. he always seemed to. after a swift nod, he said

"fine. let's fucking fight though."

the tenseness between them disappeared, replaced by a competitive energy.

"you're on!"

they trained til' the sun went down. they were pretty even in quirk matches, but [name] definitely needed to practice her general strength.

still, in their last match she managed to pin him down.

"remember when we did this the first time?"

"shut up."

they agreed to stop for the day, and kept their wins in mind.

[name]- 8

katsuki-8

an even tie.

katsuki had opted to walk her home, so walk they did.

"if you're just gonna take a taxi back what was the point of walking me?"

"i just needed to talk to you, but we already talked it out earlier so it's fine i guess."

"oh. so, are you nervous for tomorrow?"

"nervous? why'd i be nervous? i'm destined to be number one, all these villains and missions and shit are just stepping stones to me."

"right, right. but they've killed like- pros. they hate heroes. and number one's like you."

"so?"

"so, they could be dangerous."

"i'll kill em' and i'll protect you, so don't worry."

she let a small smile escape her lips, why'd he always know what to say?

"thanks katsuki."

"yeah whatever. go inside loser, it's past my bedtime."

"okay, okay. text me when you get back."

"will you actually open it or leave me hanging like a dumbass?"

"i will, unless i fall asleep."

"fuck off. bye."

he got into a taxi back across town, she went into the hotel and felt butterflies settle in her stomach.

she knew the operation would take a complete one-eighy at the news from today, so to spare herself mostly, she texted that 'we should postpone the operation for today, i'm beat.'

everyone texted back their agreements, seems everyone was weak from the day.

she tucked into bed, and checked over her texts one last time.

katsuki had texted her.

allmightsolos01

yo

i got back to the agency

sleep well or whatever

read 10:37

flowered[name]

sleep well katsuki!

see you tomorroww

delivered

man this truth quirk stuff is so easy.

these last four days are just gonna be a blur.

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taglist (comment to be added!): @cc1306 @reads-stuff-quietly @dazqa

[pascalispretty]

the feeling is mutual

Sonny Carisi x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.9k

Tags: pining, idiots in love, cowgirl sex, Sonny's praise kink, only one bed trope

Summary: You've had a crush on your colleague for years. You go to a work conference with him, and fate fucks with you by making sure you get a room with just the one bed.

A/N: Soooooooo I started working on this back in October 2022, at the request of the lovely @misscharlielulu. Life intervened, and I kinda got the writing yips, but when I saw that @storiesofsvu's bingo had an 'Only One Bed' square I was determined to finish it. Unbeta'd like whoa, so please be gentle! (ao3).

You should have been suspicious of Benson’s offer to send you to the conference from the beginning. It had been presented to you nicely enough - a long weekend in Boston, paid for by the department so you could attend the Conference on Crimes Against Women. It hadn’t taken much persuading to get you to agree to go, especially when you found out Carisi was also going. 

That was before the drive from hell. The two of you had left as soon as you finished work for the day, only to almost immediately hit nasty traffic. What should have been a four-hour journey had taken almost seven thanks to an accident just past the Connecticut state line. After swapping driver duties with Sonny somewhere outside of Hartford, you’d found your eyelids starting to get heavy, but had resolved to stay awake. It wasn’t fair to Carisi for you to sleep while he drove. 

You have no idea how long you’ve been dozing when a gentle nudge to your arm wakes you. 

“Hey, I think we’re finally here,” Sonny says as you rub your eyes. So much for not sleeping. You’re relieved to see that he’s pulling into the parking garage below the hotel, but it's short-lived.

“God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You roll your neck, wincing at the crick that’s developed from resting your head on the window. 

“It’s fine, I figured you could use it. The Spellman case has us all working late.” He’s right; the case was drawing plenty of media attention, and you’d all been racking up plenty of OT trying to solve it. The two of you had spent part of the drive debating it, and whether there was a way to get the stupid, invasive podcast taken down. 

You both grab your bags and make your way to the elevator. Pressing the button for the lobby, you try and fail to suppress a yawn. 

“Sorry,” you apologise again. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good night’s sleep.” 

“The feeling is mutual, don’t worry. I can’t even remember the last time I woke up and actually felt rested,” Carisi says lightly, giving you a soft, understanding smile. You try not to think too deeply about the way it makes your stomach twist - or, for that matter, how good he looks in his new camel coat.  

“Tell me about it,” you groan. The elevator spills the two of you out into a deserted lobby, and you do a double-take when you look out of the enormous windows at the front of the building. 

“Oh, yeah. It started snowing about an hour ago,” Sonny says, cutting himself off with a yawn.  Outside, the snow is coming down thick and fast, already sticking to the ground. You can just about see the glow of a few headlights, but beyond that, the world has turned to a soft dove grey. 

There’s a harried-looking woman behind the concierge desk; the Conference attracts cops from all over the country, you wouldn’t be surprised if the hotel was booked out by the various agencies and precincts. 

“Hi, we have two rooms booked for us. Should be under the name Benson?” Sonny asks the concierge, searching on his phone for the confirmation email Liv had forwarded to you both. The concierge types something on the computer sitting on her desk and frowns. 

“I got one room under that name. Any other name you might have used?” 

“No, Liv definitely said she booked them under her name,” you tell her, glancing at Sonny as he turns his phone to show the woman behind the desk. 

“Our Lieutenant definitely booked us two rooms, look,” Sonny tries, and the two of you exchange a frown. The concierge scans the email, then her own screen again. 

“I don’t know what to tell you. The system only has one booking under Benson. It’s the only room left in the hotel; we’re booked solid because of this conference.” You and Sonny exchange another look. 

“I mean - I don’t mind sharing if you don’t?” You tug your lower lip between your teeth, trying to think of another solution that doesn’t involve sharing a bedroom with the colleague you have a very inappropriate crush on. Sonny taps his fingers on the desk and looks again at the concierge as though he’s hoping she’ll be able to conjure another room out of nowhere. 

“I wouldn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He sounds so earnest, and you want to pinch his cheeks and tell him he could never, but instead you shrug. 

“It’s fine, you won’t. Unless you snore, or sleepwalk or something,” you tease, and he grins. 

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he says, turning back to the concierge. Is it your imagination, or is he blushing slightly? “Can we get the keys, please?” The woman looks relieved that the two of you have resolved the situation between yourselves, and seemingly can’t press the keycards into your hands fast enough. 

“You’re in 2342; take the elevator to the fourth floor and turn right.” The two of you thank her and pick your bags up again. 

“Should we say something to the Lieutenant?” You offer as the two of you make your way upstairs. “She might be getting charged for both rooms or something.” 

“Yeah, probably. Maybe the hotel thought she meant two beds, not two rooms?” Sonny runs a hand through his hair; the product’s grip on his greying locks has relaxed, leaving it looking soft and touchable. 

“Maybe,” you say distractedly, stopping in front of door 2342. “I think this is us.” You try the keycard and are relieved when the light on the lock turns green. 

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait to get some sleep.” Carisi takes your bag as you push open the door, and you smile quickly at him over your shoulder. 

“Oh no, the feeling is definitely mutual. I feel like I could sleep for a week-” You abruptly cut yourself off when you turn the light on and get a glimpse of the room. It’s a perfectly nice room–if anything slightly nicer than what you had been expecting on the department’s dime. It’s decently sized, with large windows and a flatscreen on the wall. There’s even a comfy-looking overstuffed armchair by one of the windows. 

The only problem is that there’s only one bed. 

Your cheeks burn as you realise your mistake. You had assumed that the hotel had accidentally put you in one room with two beds, instead of two rooms with one bed each. 

“Oh shit, Carisi, I’m sorry-” You start, walking deeper into the room so he has space to enter behind you and see what the problem is. The door clicks closed behind him, and you swallow thickly. 

“Oh. Uh-” he rakes his hand through his hair again. “You take the room. I’ll find somewhere else.” He offers, but you’re already shaking your head. 

“Where? The concierge said they were full, and there’s no way you can get a decent room on this short notice.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth again, trying to walk the fine line between sounding considerate and desperate. As much as the thought of sharing a bed with Carisi makes you panic, you don’t want to kick him out into the cold. 

“No, it’s fine. I can sleep in the car if I can’t find anywhere; I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.” It’s so characteristically sweet that you roll your eyes. Crossing over to the window, you pull the drapes aside just enough to see the snow still falling thick and fast outside. 

“You are not sleeping in your car in a blizzard, Carisi. It’s fine, I’ll sleep on the armchair.” You grab a pillow from the bed before he can argue and throw it towards the chair. “Crank the thermostat up and lend me a blanket from the bed, and I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not letting you sleep in a chair,” he says, though he does move over to the thermostat to change it. “I’ll take the chair.”

“You’re like seven feet tall, there’s no way you’re sleeping in the chair.” 

“I’m six foot even, and a night sleeping there won’t kill me. In the morning, I’ll look for a room in a different hotel or something.” You open your mouth to argue with him again, but he cuts you off. “You’re not changing my mind. I have three sisters, I know how to be stubborn.” 

“Fine. Better than you trying to drive around in this storm, as tired as you are.” You throw your hands up in exaggerated defeat, before starting to tug one of the sheets off the bed. Carisi moves to the other side of the bed to help you, stripping the top sheet off and tossing it onto the armchair. 

“You wanna use the bathroom first?” Your bags are still sitting by the door, and you pick up your overnight bag and set it on the bed. For a brief moment you panic as you start to unzip it; what pyjamas did you pack in your hurry this morning? You can’t remember if they’re relatively normal looking, or the grotty but oh-so-cosy ones you usually reserve for being ill or on your period. 

“Nah, you go ahead.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him shaking the sheet out to drape it over the armchair. Your hands finally close on your pyjamas, and you take them and your toiletry bag into the bathroom. The bathroom is, just like the room, nicer than you had expected it to be. The little soaps and shampoos are brands you actually recognise, and you’re delighted to see that your room has a shower and a tub. Maybe tomorrow you can have a nice, long soak and pretend this mortifying night never happened. 

It doesn’t take you long to throw your hair up in a messy bun and wash the remains of your makeup off your face. You strip quickly out of your work clothes, hesitating a moment before deciding to keep your bra on. Slipping on the grey tank top you’d brought as a pyjama top, you’re a little relieved that the pyjamas you’d grabbed at random from the drawer were plain and not embarrassingly old or cutesy. 

Your relief is short-lived. When you go to shake out the folded-up black leggings, you realise with dawning horror that they’re not your leggings at all. In your hurry to pack this morning, you’d grabbed a pair of pyjama shorts, black jersey with a little lacy trim. Your face burns flaming hot again as you stare at them. You have no other choice - your only other bottoms are work clothes, and a pair of jeans - but they show off more of your leg than you’re really comfortable with your colleague seeing. 

Cursing yourself for leaving packing until this morning you reluctantly slide the shorts on, trying to tug them down to cover a little more of your thighs. Clutching your clothes to your chest, you take a deep breath before stepping out of the bathroom. 

Carisi has been busy while you’ve been gone. He’s made a makeshift bed for himself on the armchair, and moved the bags away from the door. Your purse is sitting beside your weekend bag, and his own bag is open on the desk. He’s currently searching through it, and you can't help staring a little. His coat, jacket and tie are gone and he’s rolled his shirt sleeves up, exposing his forearms. You swallow thickly and drag your eyes away with difficulty. You need to grow up. 

The bathroom door closes behind you, catching Sonny’s attention. He looks up from whatever he’s searching for in his bag and does a double-take when he sees you. 

“Why are you wearing shorts during a blizzard?” He teases, unable to help the laugh that escapes him. “Did you leave packing til the last minute again?” Your cheeks are probably hot enough to counter whatever cold you might feel from the weather, and you glare at him. 

“Shut up. They were folded, I thought they were leggings.” You dump the clothes in your arms into your open bag and dig around for your phone charger. Sonny chuckles again and shakes his head. 

“You sure you’re gonna be warm enough? You can borrow my hoodie if you want.” You’re sorely tempted to take him up on the offer. The burgundy hoodie he’s holding out to you looks cosy, and it undoubtedly smells amazing, but you can’t. You need to get over this, whatever this is. 

“I’ll be okay.” With your phone charger in hand, you move your bags onto the floor by the bed and set about plugging your phone in to charge overnight. Sonny quietly excuses himself to the bathroom, and you take advantage of having the room to yourself to clamber into bed without showing any more of your legs. You almost groan once you settle down under the blankets; this bed is comfortable. It’s almost enough to make you glad that Sonny insisted on sleeping on the armchair instead of you. Almost. Once you’re suitably snuggled in, you unlock your phone and type out a quick message to Benson explaining the room situation. 

It doesn’t take Carisi long to return from the bathroom, and you let out an inelegant snort when you see him. 

“Why are you wearing shorts during a blizzard?” You parrot teasingly, raising an eyebrow at him. Sonny’s wearing a Fordham tee and a pair of cotton boxer shorts. He has the good grace to flush, and he shrugs. 

“It’s what I usually sleep in. I run warm.” 

“You can turn the thermostat down if it’s gonna be too warm?” You offer. “I feel like a dick taking the bed and making you too hot.” He flashes you that soft smile again. 

“You’re still just in shorts. Sure you don’t want my hoodie?” Carisi sets his folded clothes on the desk by his bag and waits for your answer. 

“No, I’ll be fine. Turn the thermostat down a few degrees.” The room isn’t even that cold at the moment, and you’re sure you won’t feel it if the temperature drops a little while you sleep. Sonny obliges, fiddling with the thermostat again before settling down onto his armchair bed. 

“Is it okay with you if I set an alarm for half nine?” The conference kicks off at eleven; an hour and a half should be plenty of time to shower and find some breakfast before you have to go downstairs. 

“Yeah sure,” Carisi says, his reply trailing off into a yawn. “G’night.” You flip the switch by the bed, plunging the room into darkness. 

“Night, Carisi.” 

You really try to fall asleep. The bed is so comfortable, and you’re so tired. You had fallen asleep in the car, sitting up with the radio blaring. You’re not sure why it evades you now. The minutes tick by, and you can hear Sonny moving around in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position. Perhaps it's guilt keeping you awake, you reason. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you break the silence. 

“Carisi?” You half-whisper, not wanting to wake him if he’s asleep. 

“Yeah?” He sounds tired, and the guilt overrides any embarrassment you might feel. 

“Will you just come and sleep here?” The question hangs in the air, and there’s a long pause while you wait for Sonny’s answer. “I don’t have cooties, Carisi, you can sleep next to me.” 

“No, I know, but-” He pauses, and you hear him shift again. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” 

“Positive.” It’s so stupid of you. You’ve had a crush on Carisi since you first laid eyes on him; inviting him to sleep beside you is an unnecessary form of self-torture. But you know you’ll feel even worse tomorrow having to look at the deep shadows under his eyes from a sleepless and uncomfortable night in the chair. 

You hear him sigh softly. A moment later, the mattress dips as he settles into the bed. Sonny’s keeping his distance, but you’re still painfully aware of his body in bed beside you. It’s unbearably intimate, and if it wouldn’t make you look like a lunatic after telling him how fine you were with him getting in, you’d take a pillow and go and sleep in the tub. 

Annoyed with yourself, you roll over onto your side, facing away from him. As idiotic as you might be, at least you won’t have to deal with the guilt of depriving him of a good night’s sleep. Beside you, his breathing is evening out. Maybe at least one of you will sleep well. 

******

You wake up feeling confused. You have no idea how you managed to fall asleep, or how long you’ve slept for. You’re also very preoccupied with the fact that you and Carisi appear to be spooning. 

Sonny’s arm is slung over your waist and his body is curled around yours from behind, holding you close. His nose is pressed against the hinge of your jaw, his breath warm on your neck.  Your bare legs are tangled together, and you’re so overwhelmed by the feel of so much of his skin against yours that it takes you a moment to realise what woke you. 

Carisi is hard. 

The line of his erection is pressing against the curve of your ass, and you nearly choke on your own tongue at the feeling. You take a deep breath and try to make sense of what’s happening. The two of you must have rolled together at some point in the night, and Sonny’s reaction must just be morning wood. 

Not that being in Sonny’s arms is unpleasant. He’s warm and solid against you, and he smells good; something clean and masculine and him. Closing your eyes again, you try to figure out what to do. Before you can settle on an idea, Sonny’s arm briefly tightens around your waist, only to suddenly slide off. 

“Oh fuck-” Carisi practically throws himself backwards, away from you. Sitting up in bed, you turn to look at him as he tries to extricate himself from the sheets and scramble out of bed. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry.” You follow him, managing to grab his hand before he can move away from the side of the bed. 

“Carisi, it’s okay. It’s okay, you were asleep-” You start, kneeling on the bed in front of him and holding his hand tightly within your own. He’s shaking his head before you even get the first few words out, those beautiful blue eyes of his wide and distraught. 

“It’s not okay,” he says, refusing to look down at you. “I was practically molesting you in your sleep-”

“Stop, you weren’t molesting me,” you try to argue, but Carisi ignores you. 

“I’ll call the Lieutenant on my way back to Manhattan, let her know. God, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out. But you never have to see me again, I promise,” he rambles, trying to free his hand from your grasp. You don’t let go, giving it a squeeze instead. 

“Calm down, take a breath. How you wanted me to find out what?” You adjust your position on your knees, barely able to breathe yourself. Sonny’s palm is hot and damp against yours, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. 

“Find out that I liked you.” Carisi manages eventually, still steadfastly refusing to look down at you. Your heart is hammering against your ribcage, and your blood roars so loudly in your ears that you’re not sure you heard him right. You know he likes you, you’ve been friends for years. But he’s saying it in a way that conveys so much more than that, and you suck in a breath. 

“You like me?” 

“I- yeah. And now I’ve ruined it, and made you uncomfortable-” he starts again, and you roll your eyes. You bring your free hand up to his cheek, and the gentle touch is what finally makes him meet your eyes. 

“Dominick. You haven’t made me uncomfortable. Really, you haven’t.” That finally silences him, your use of his real name catching his attention, though it doesn’t stop his eyes from searching for any hint to the contrary in your face. You take a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. “And…and you haven’t ruined anything either.” 

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up to kiss him. 

It’s not much more than a peck, a soft brush of your lips against his own ones. You pull back just a little, your noses almost brushing. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed waking up in your arms.” There’s a silence so deep that you’d swear you should be able to hear the snow falling outside. Those lovely eyes of his bore into yours, sending your heart hammering even harder. After a long pause, his free hand comes up to cup your jaw with deliberate slowness, giving you time to move away. 

Sonny’s thumb sweeps gently over your cheek as he lowers his head and kisses you. His lips are soft and full against yours, testing at first and deepening the kiss when you slide your free arm around him to pull him closer. A quiet sound of contentment escapes your throat as Sonny dips his tongue into your mouth, finally letting go of your hand so he can grasp your waist. 

You can’t seem to get close enough to him, even with your chests pressed flush against one another. The kiss turns from careful to desperate as years of pent-up attraction are finally given an outlet.

It’s impossible to tell who moves first to lie down on the bed, whether you pull him down or he pushes, but you end up lying parallel to the headboard with Sonny on top of you. Your mind can barely reconcile that your longtime crush reciprocates your feelings, much less the warm weight of his body pressed against you. 

Wanting to feel more of him, you slip one of your hands beneath the hem of his t-shirt and run your fingertips over his back. He shivers at the delicate touch, a sensitivity you mentally file away for later. Your legs fall open, and you choke back a whine when you feel the hard line of his cock press against you once more. 

It’s so much. You want to feel him everywhere, to keep exploring him with your hands and mouth. 

“Can I?” You ask, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and pulling gently. He follows your lead, letting you pull the shirt over his head and discard it onto the floor. He was telling the truth earlier; he does run warm, his bare skin hot to the touch as your hands roam his back and sides. 

One of Sonny’s hands drops down to hitch your leg over his hip, his large hand squeezing your thigh. 

“I love your legs,” he murmurs. The kisses have left you breathless, but you still whine when he stops. Your hands sink into his soft hair as he shifts to press kisses down the column of your throat. You don’t mean to pull his hair when he kisses a particularly sensitive spot, but when he groans against the delicate skin you take it as your cue to do it again. 

���Want you, Dominick,” you sigh against his forehead, rocking your hips to grind against him. You feel his breath catch in his throat, his own hips stutter against yours. There are too many layers of clothes between the two of you, and you do your best to wriggle out of your t-shirt without displacing Carisi. 

Like the gentleman that he is, he helps you out. His hands cover yours to take over, pulling the soft cotton over your head. Your hands sink back into his hair almost immediately.

“Why’d you wear a bra to sleep in?” He asks, a soft smile playing on his lips. It’s so infuriatingly handsome that you want to drag him back down for more kisses, but you know that won’t get you out of your clothes any faster.

“Didn’t want to risk you seeing my nipples through my shirt,” you explain breathily as he ducks down to kiss over the tops of your breasts while his hands work at the clasp. 

“Think I’m about to see a lot more than that, doll,” he mumbles against your skin. It makes you giggle, in spite of yourself. The two of you shed your clothes as quickly as you can while still staying as close as possible, too focused on removing the remaining barriers between you to care too much about the undignified scramble to strip. 

“I wanna ride you,” you manage between kisses, and Sonny nearly falls off the bed in his eagerness to oblige you. He settles with his back against the headboard, watching you with hazy eyes as you grab a condom out of your purse. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, holding his hands out to help you get comfortable in his lap. He hisses when you roll the condom down over his cock, the hand he’s resting on your hip squeezing reflexively. 

���You’re so gorgeous,” you tell him, slowly pumping your hand down, then back up. He does look gorgeous out of his clothes, all lean and long-limbed. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this.” 

Sonny’s other arm loops around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since we met,” he admits, his voice breathless with arousal. You rest your free hand on his shoulder as you line him up with your entrance and slowly start to sink down. It pulls a loud moan out of both of you, the sound echoing around the room, so much louder than the whispers and gasps that had come before. 

“Oh God, so have I, Sonny-” you manage, screwing your eyes closed. It’s been a while, and the lack of foreplay probably wasn’t wise given the fact that Carisi was bigger than you’d imagined. Not that you’d made a habit of imagining this, in trying to deal with your crush. Instead of sliding down smoothly the rest of the way onto him, you roll your hips, taking a little more of his length on each pass. 

Sonny’s a mess under you. His hands clutch tight at your hips, and when you manage to open your eyes again, you see he has his head flung back against the headboard.

“You feel so good, Doll. Christ, you’re so fucking wet and we haven’t even done anything-” he cuts himself off with a shuddering groan as he finally bottoms out inside you. The tip of him is pressing up against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl, and it sends a swell of bliss coursing through you. 

“You have such a perfect dick,” you tell him, enjoying the flush that intensifies on his face as he registers what you said. You lift yourself up just a little, an inch at best, and sink slowly back down, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. 

You’re not sure if it’s the best adjective, but you need to tell him just how good he feels. 

In fact, the two of you can’t seem to shut up. Even when you start riding him in earnest, the headboard bumping against the wall with every stroke, neither of you can stop talking. It’s like every time you’ve wanted to tell him how hot he is over the last three years is spilling out, along with endless praise for how good he feels. He gives it right back, telling you how perfect and sexy and hot you are in between telling you how much he wants to eat you out. 

“I’d be so good at it, please doll, I just wanna show you how bad I want it,” he babbles, his hair damp with sweat at the temples. 

You’re panting with every breath. Sonny leans forward to nuzzle into your neck, kissing and licking and sucking at the delicate skin there. Your nails dig into his shoulders when he drags his teeth over a particularly sensitive spot, and the groan he makes vibrates through your skin and straight down to your core. 

“God, Dominick, yes,” you nearly sob. “So good with your mouth already, want you to kiss me everywhere…” You can’t finish the thought, but it wrenches another groan out of Sonny. You haven’t thought about a next time, whether this is a one-off or if cooler heads will prevail back in New York. 

Later, the two of you can talk for real. You’ll wake up feeling better rested than you have in years, naked in Sonny’s arms, and talk about what happened, you promise yourself. 

Right now, there’s just the two of you discovering how much you enjoy each other, how badly you’ve both wanted each other. The two of you just fit together, like it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. And all the pleasure you feel is magnified a thousandfold by the fact that your crush wasn’t unrequited at all, that Sonny wants you just as much as you want him. 

You sink your hand back into his soft hair and ride him faster, utterly drunk on the noises he’s making. Dominick’s mouth wanders, kissing lines up your neck and licking messily at your nipples and nipping gently at your earlobe. In between, he murmurs about how 

A real conversation can wait; right now, you want to see what it’ll take for you to leave him speechless. 

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @irishavengersassemble

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 32: Promises

Joel adjusts to life in Jackson after his brush with death. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-31 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: References to canon-typical violence. Smut :). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 9.5k

A/N: Hi y'all. If you're still looking at this fic but have skipped the last few chapters because of spoilers, this is a pretty safe chapter to jump back in at. You do need to understand that Joel was nearly killed in an encounter with an unnamed person while on patrol and that someone was looking for him in particular to have the context for this chapter. If you have any questions, feel free to DM me.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

December, 2027

“No.” 

“Baby…” 

“I said no, Joel.” 

You stalked off to another room and Joel could feel your frustration from where he sat on the couch. 

He sighed, debating whether or not to follow you or if he should stay where he was and let you cool off.

It wasn’t the first time the two of you had had this discussion over the last six weeks. 

Joel had made significant recovery since the incident in November. His leg had mostly healed, though he still walked with a slight limp. But he could breathe deeply without feeling the burning pain of broken ribs now. And the parts of him the doctors had to cut away so he would survive - part of his liver, part of his intestine, one of his kidneys - no longer constantly hurt to the point of occasional agony. Everything was tolerable now, if not necessarily what it was before. 

As a result, he was starting to go a little stir crazy. Admittedly, the doctors hadn’t cleared him for anything too strenuous - though he wondered how much of that was your doing versus theirs - but he wanted to start preparing to go back to the life he had in Jackson. One where he felt fulfilled, like he had his place in the community and a way to contribute. 

You, however, weren’t too happy with that plan. 

Joel sighed and got up from the couch, the muscle in his leg burning as he did. Things still hurt and pulled at first - and he was sure getting on a horse would be uncomfortable at best - but it would pass. Or he’d get used to it. 

Either way, he wasn’t content with continuing to sit in his house and rot. 

“Sweetheart,” he said, finding you in the kitchen. 

You closed the fridge door with too much force, making the jars of canned produce inside rattle. 

“No,” you said, adding milk to a cup of tea on the counter. “Find a place to sit, I don’t want you spilling hot tea all over yourself.” 

“I’m not a kid,” he said, a little defensive. “I know perfectly well what I’m capable of…” 

“No, you don’t,” you said, leveling him with a glare before returning the milk to the fridge and pointing to his spot at the table. “Now sit.” 

Joel squared his jaw for a moment before going for the kitchen table - trying to walk with as little a limp as he could manage even though it fucking hurt - and sitting down there. He took a deep breath as you got the mugs of tea and carried them to the table, setting one in front of him and the other in front of the seat he’d come to think of as yours. You settled in beside him, holding the mug with both hands, seemingly determined to not actually look at him. 

“We need to talk about it,” he said gently. 

“I’m not going to discuss you going out there to get yourself fucking killed, Joel,” you snapped. “I’m not doing it, I’m not going through that again. End of story.” 

Joel tried to remind himself that he wouldn’t feel any differently if he were in your position. He couldn’t blame you for it.

You’d been a mess when he woke up. It had just taken him a few minutes to really realize it. 

It was like you couldn’t get close enough to him once you were against him, clinging to him as you tried to not disturb him or put any weight on him. But once he got you settled, you fell asleep quickly. 

Joel, however, was wide awake. Part of him was afraid to go to sleep again. He didn’t want to not wake up, he wasn’t confident enough that he would. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious but it felt like he’d slept enough for a lifetime. 

So he just held onto you. He soaked up the feel of you in his arms, a sensation he thought he’d never have again. He tried to pick through the fog of his mind, remember what had happened before, but it felt so far away, nothing but a haze of blood and hurt before your voice was there. After a while, he left it alone. 

But you didn’t sleep the way you normally did. At first, you seemed stiff, like you were still conscious enough to be worried about hurting him. That didn’t last too long. Your whole body relaxed, as limp and pliant as you were when he’d just made you come again and again. But you almost never actually found rest that way. Even with Joel beside you, there was part of you that was always tense and ready to defend yourself. A byproduct, he was sure, of years of torment that could strike at any time. You only slept that way when you were at the point of total exhaustion, when your body physically couldn’t be on guard anymore. 

As much as he wanted to talk to you - ask you what happened, how you were feeling, how long he’d been like this - he wanted you to rest more. You needed it, your whole body desperate for it. So when his door opened just as the light in the room shifted to the pink and orange of dawn, his hold on you tightened ever so slightly. 

Carol, one of the doctors, didn’t even notice him watching her come in at first, nearly jumping out of her skin when she realized that his eyes were open. 

“Joel!” She yelped and you stirred ever so slightly against him. He held you tighter. 

“Shhh,” he hushed her before whispering, soft and low. “She needs her rest. Don’t think she’s had much of that lately.” 

“But…” 

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he said. “Let ‘er sleep. Can look me over in a bit.” 

She rolled her eyes but left all the same and he watched you, lost in you. You’d survived. He remembered being afraid that you wouldn’t but you had, and so had he. He trailed his fingers gently over your exposed skin, marveling at the softness of you, that you loved and trusted him enough to let your softness be this close. 

The sun was high when the door opened again, not easing open this time but flying, Ellie tearing into the room in a blur of wild hair and disheveled clothes. The door smacking into the wall made you wake with a jolt and he held you close as he felt that tension shock back into your limbs. 

“Joel!” Ellie barreled over to him and he couldn’t help but smile as she skidded to a stop at his bedside as you sat up. 

“Hey baby girl.” 

“You’re awake,” her voice was thick as she sat down near you at the edge of the bed. “Fuck, I didn’t…” 

“Are you OK?” He asked, trying to look her over. 

“I’m fine,” she waved him off. “You scared the shit out of me but I’m fine. The doc said I needed to get you to let her look you over? What the fuck, Joel?” 

“Joel!” You looked down at him, wide awake now, his head propped up on pillows. 

“You needed rest,” he shrugged. 

“You needed to be examined by a doctor!” You snapped, unfolding yourself from your place at his side. He tried to hold onto you but you leveled him with a glare. “After everything we did to get you here alive, don’t even start.” 

He tried very hard not to laugh. 

“Whatever you say, baby.” 

He seemed to frustrate you a lot after that. You talked to the doctors more than he did, never leaving his side and listening to everything they said with a hard look on your face. He tried to ask more about what happened to you - he remembered you bleeding and your face was still damaged but healing - but you changed the subject back to him immediately every time. 

Joel was ready for things to go back to normal as quickly as he could manage but you were nervous, hesitant. The first time you dared leave him at the clinic, something happened with a horse and Olivia came to get you. It was the third day he was awake and you were gone long enough that he was able to get out of bed and try to walk on his own. He didn’t make it very far, all but falling into a chair near the door after using the wall to haphazardly balance as he went. The chair smacked into the wall and Joel heard scrambling from the hall before Carol threw open the door, her eyes wide and panicky before she saw where Joel had ended up. 

“Are you trying to get yourself hurt?” She demanded as she helped him back to bed. 

“No,” he said, defensive. “I’m tryin’ to get myself back to normal…” 

“Joel, you’re 60 years old…” 

“Don’t remind me.” 

“…And injuries take time to recover from. You’re not a young man anymore, you can’t push yourself the way you used to.” 

“I’m not a young man anymore,” he agreed as she helped lower him to the bed, his body seeming so hulking and large beside hers. “I can’t afford to waste time bein’ useless.” 

“Recovery isn’t useless,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “If you’re not going to listen to me then you need to listen to that woman of yours, Joel. Take it easy and don’t do things like get up without someone there to help if you need it.” 

Carol was nice enough to not tell you about the fact that he got out of bed and walked to the chair, at least. But she had distinctly sided with you in all matters related to his recovery after that, as had Tommy, Ellie, Maria and Savvy. 

It didn’t help that there were clearly conversations happening that no one wanted to tell him about. He heard raised voices from the front room of the clinic one day, you and Ellie going back and forth about something he couldn’t quite make out until there was the sharp boom of Tommy’s voice ending the conversation. 

“Care to tell me what that was this afternoon?” He asked as you settled into his side to sleep after Ellie and Tommy had gone home for the night. 

“Depends on how pissed off you want to be,” you replied, draping your arm gingerly over his chest and settling in with your head on his shoulder. 

“Not gonna piss me off,” he said gently. You had shrugged out of the button down of his that you’d worn that day before climbing in bed, stripped down to the tank top below and he could feel your skin so easily like this, his hand skimming over your bared arm. You pressed yourself closer. 

“Yes it is,” you said quietly, stretching and kissing his throat before settling at his side again. 

“Can’t go the rest of our lives without shit pissin’ me off, baby,” he said gently. “Don’t think I can handle you treatin’ me like glass the whole time, either.” 

“I just worry,” you said softly. “I don’t want to do this without you, can’t give you a damn heart attack because Ellie has some scheme…” 

“So it’s Ellie that’s causin’ the trouble,” he said. 

You groaned. 

“Fine,” you said. “Better not get all worked up and just let me handle it. Trust me when I say I have it, Joel, I really do…” 

“Baby.” 

You sighed again. 

“From what Tommy was conscious for and what little you remember,” you said slowly. “The people who… those people. They were after you. Specifically you. And Ellie… she hasn’t taken kindly to that.” 

“Alright…” 

“She wants to go find them,” you sighed. “She thinks she can handle it…” 

“No,” he said, already moving to get up but you held him down. 

“Joel.” 

“She’s not doin’ that…” 

“I know she’s not,” you said, still holding him in place. “I told you, Tommy and I have it handled.” 

“I don’t want her to go after them,” Joel said, letting himself relax back into the mattress and your hold on him eased. “Don’t want any of you putting yourself at risk on some damn fool mission…” 

“I know.” 

“She needs to get that shit outta her head…”

“I know, Joel.” 

He sighed. 

“This is such a fuckin’ mess. All of it.” 

“It doesn’t matter,” you said quietly, nuzzling in closer to him. “All that matters is you’re alive and you’re here. We’ll figure it out.” 

You figuring it out, apparently, just meant keeping Joel under lock and key for the foreseeable future. Your jaw was set tight across the table and you fidgeted with your mug, your thumb tapping out a stuttering rhythm on the handle. 

“I need to contribute,” Joel said gently. You glared at him. “Sweetheart…” 

“You can contribute without leaving Jackson,” you said. “Your value here isn’t limited to going on fucking patrol…” 

“It’s a big part of my value, Baby, yeah,” he said. “I don’t got a lot of skills…” 

“You were a contractor before,” you snapped. “You think buildings here don’t need to be repaired? That things don’t need to be constructed? Do that, let them take you out of the patrol rotation.” 

“I’m not gonna hide,” he said, trying to get you to look at him even as you seemed bound and determined not to. “I want to get back out there, I want to do my part…” 

“Your part doesn’t include getting fucking murdered, Joel!” 

“I sure hope it doesn’t,” he reached out and took your hand, his thumb running over your knuckles. “I want to be here, with you, for a good, long time, baby. But I can’t… I can’t be something I’m not. And I’m not someone who just lets other people take on all the risk while he sits at home, on his ass…” 

“Joel.” 

“You say you love me,” he said. You actually met his eyes with that, glassy and wet at the edges. 

“Of course I love you,” you said, not as harsh now. “I love you so goddamn much, I can’t lose you, I can’t, do you understand me?” 

“I know, Baby,” he reached out, his large hand cupping your face. “And I’m not planning on going anywhere. But I can’t be the man you love by hidin’ away and waitin’ for trouble to come to someone else. I need to be the one to handle it. Me. I need to take care of my own business, need to look after you, need to take care of our girls. I can’t do that here, acting like I’m not capable of doing my part. I’m going back out there, Baby, and I’d like to do it knowin’ that you’ll still be speaking to me when I get back.” 

“You don’t get to ask me to watch you hurt yourself,” your voice was thick. “I will not watch you die, Joel. I’m not going to do it and you don’t get to ask me to.” 

“I’m not,” he said gently. “But, Sweetheart, if I am gonna go? I’d like to go out as myself. And that means going back out on patrol.” 

Your eyes searched his for a moment before you all but collapsed against his shoulder, your arms snaking up around his neck, a sob cracking through you. He put his arms around you, rocking you gently. 

Part of him had been waiting for this to happen. Beyond when he caught you off guard when he first woke up, you’d been nothing but strong and stoic. The only time there was a hint of anything else was when the two of you went to bed at night. You clung to him then, Joel swallowing any hint of hurt you accidentally caused when you held him tight. You breathed him in deep, pressed as much skin to him as you could manage. Sometimes, those deep breaths were shaky ones, like you were trying not to cry. He just held onto you, wishing you’d say something - anything - so he’d know how you were feeling. But you didn’t. So he took care of you the best way he could while you were focused on taking care of him. 

“It’s alright,” his hand spread wide over your back, keeping a slow and steady rhythm as it ran up and down your spine. Your tears were racking, choking, making your whole body shake. “You’re OK, I’ve got you, s’alright…” 

“I can’t,” you sobbed against him. “I can’t, I can’t… you can’t leave me, Joel, you can’t.” 

“M’not gonna leave you, Baby,” he said softly. “I promise you. I’ll always come home to you.” 

“You can’t know that,” you sniffed, your sobs calming to sniffles. “Seeing you like that…” 

“I know,” he said quietly. He’d seen you nearly dead enough times, he knew. He understood it. “I’m sorry, Baby, I’m so sorry…” 

“Then why are you insisting on trying to go back out there,” you sat back from him. “If you understood it, you’d stay here with me and with Ellie and Savvy, you wouldn’t do this. Not to yourself, not to me, not to them…” 

“I know,” he said again, looking in your eyes, begging you to understand. “But that girl… she took a lot from me, baby. A few organs, more time than I really want. Almost took my future with you and the girls. Not gonna let her take who I am, too. And I need to go back out there. Not gonna just hide in here, afraid, for the rest of my life.” 

Your eyes searched his, wide and wet, and then you sighed. 

“I have conditions. If you expect me to be OK with this…” 

“Of course,” he said quickly. “What are they?” 

“You go out with Tommy or me,” you said. “No one else. I don’t trust you out there with Jesse or fucking Gene…” 

“They were tryin’ to do the right thing…” 

“The right thing was saving you,” you snapped. “You go out with Tommy or with me or not at all.” 

“Alright,” he said. “You or Tommy. At least to start.” 

You glared at him for a moment but you pressed on. 

“You don’t even think about going out until you’re fully cleared by both doctors,” you said. “None of this second opinion bullshit, they’re both on board or you don’t go.” 

“I can do that,” he nodded slowly. “You’re being very reasonable, Baby, I’m impressed…” 

“Oh, fuck off.” 

He laughed a little and tugged you closer to press a kiss to your temple. You melted into his chest, head nestling against his shoulder so that your nose brushed his neck. 

“I promise, I don’t have a death wish,” he said, thumb tracing a path over your arm. “I always want to come home to you. I just need to do this, too.” 

“I know,” you said softly. “I’m just… I’m so scared with you. All the time, I’m so afraid. It’s different than with Savvy, I’ve always been afraid with her. Scared I was gonna drop her or accidentally hurt her or not teach her the right thing or teach her too much. Scared I couldn’t save her. She’s my heart just walking around outside my body, I’m used to being afraid with her. But it’s different than how I feel about you and I just… I’ve never loved someone the way I love you and I don’t know how to live with being afraid of losing that.” 

He took a deep breath and held you a little tighter. 

“Know the feeling.” 

It was just a few days to Christmas and preparations were in full swing. The tree was up in the middle of town, lights lined the buildings, Julie had been hoarding supplies for some kind of holiday cocktail that she claimed was a surprise that you were highly skeptical of. You, Ellie and Savvy had picked a tree for his living room just the week before and set it up, Savvy standing back with a slight frown on her face the whole time. 

“What’s up, baby girl?” Joel asked, sitting in an arm chair as he watched you and Ellie decorate. His leg wasn’t quite up for standing that much yet. 

“It’s just…” She looked at him for a moment and perched on the arm of the chair before looking back at you. “People really did this before? Put trees in their houses?” 

“Yeah,” Joel smiled up at her. “They did. Biggest holiday of the year for a lot of the world, trees inside stores and offices and shit, too.” 

She crossed her arms, her brows knitting together as she frowned.  

“She never did this with me,” she said quietly. “I read about Christmas in a book once but it didn’t talk about this part and she didn’t talk about it much when I asked and… I don’t get it.” 

Joel nodded slowly. Savvy was still warming up to you. She seemed skeptical of your motivations, of your intentions, of everything you said. It was hard to tell how much of it was teenaged cynicism and how much was rooted in her feelings of abandonment. But since you’d all but moved into Joel’s house, she’d been around you more and more and you did your best to let her guide it. He could tell how much it was killing you, though. He knew the feeling well, remembering back to the days when Ellie wouldn’t even look at him. He could tell how badly you wanted to cling to her. He saw how much you wanted her to stay close and tell you everything in the way you hung on her every word, the way you watched the door for a full minute after she left to go back to Ellie’s. But you needed her to be OK with it more. That just didn’t make things any easier. 

“What did she tell you?” Joel asked, keeping his voice low enough that it wouldn’t rise over the Christmas carols you’d put on the stereo. 

“Stuff she did with her parents,” she shrugged. “That her brothers would tease her about being bad… None of this stuff.” 

“Well,” Joel said slowly. “Think she told you the important stuff.” 

She looked at him, skeptical. 

“The important stuff ain’t the decorations, it’s the people,” he said. “She couldn’t give you the other things so she told you about your family. Don’t think she was trying to hide anything from you. She shared with you what mattered.” 

She nodded slowly and looked toward the tree again until Ellie turned around and called her over to put an ornament on the tree. You bit your lip as you watched her do it, your eyes wide and soft and you hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a squeeze when she stepped back to look at her handiwork. 

Joel was steadfastly trying to focus on the holiday instead of the tension that had settled over the town since his attack. Patrols had been ramped up, sending people out in small groups instead of pairs. There were growing signs of people present in the wilderness, more xes on trees and remains of fires. Tommy had told Joel - much to your chagrin - that the prevailing theory was they were marking Jackson territory, the signs always found at the edges of where patrols ran. As though someone was watching for where they could seize power. Everyone was on tenterhooks, waiting for something worse to happen.

But the build up to Christmas seemed to have taken everyone’s minds off the looming threat. Joel was thankful for it. It seemed to have lightened your mood some, too - part of why he decided to bring up the patrol issue yet again. 

He didn’t tell you that he was set to see Carol the next day to hopefully get cleared for patrol. And… other activities. 

The cruelty of the timing of the attack hadn’t been lost on Joel. He’d just gotten you back, hadn’t even had 12 damn hours with you before he had to leave for patrol and then almost never came back. But he’d lived and, while you’d been close ever since, you weren’t close enough. 

He wanted you. 

That wasn’t quite right, he always wanted you. He was pretty sure he’d wanted you since the moment he first saw you. He was beyond that now. He needed you so bad he ached with it, his whole fucking body hurt with it sometimes. But you wouldn’t touch him without the doctors saying it was OK. Even though, at this point, he was starting to think it was medically dangerous to be so fucking wanting. 

“Are you goin’ to the stables today?” Joel asked, holding you close. You nodded against him. “You think you’ll be done in time for the movie?” 

“Definitely,” you said. “Savvy’s never seen a Christmas movie, not missing that.” 

He kissed your forehead. 

“Been meanin’ to ask you something,” he said. 

“Hm.” 

“Think you’ll be my date for the dance tomorrow night?” He asked. You pulled back from him and glared, your eyes still red. He smiled a little. “Know I left it to last minute but I’m hoping…” 

“Of course I’ll be your date,” you shoved him ever so lightly. “Who else am I gonna go with? Been cooped up here with you for the last month, all my other prospects have given up on me…” 

He laughed and kissed you. 

“Guess you’ll just have to be my girl, then.” 

“Guess so.” 

He kissed you again, deeply, firmly. But it was different than so many other kisses he’d shared with you over the past few weeks. There was heat behind it. A twinge of need and want that tasted so familiar on your tongue. You moaned and adjusted so you were closer to him, your body curving, leg hitching up over his so you could press your mound against his thigh. He gripped you tighter, pulled you closer, but you pulled back with a groan. 

“Baby,” he breathed but you shook your head. 

“Not going to risk hurting you,” you panted. 

“Not gonna hurt me…” 

“Not sure I trust your judgement,” you gave him a final, chaste, peck on the lips. “I’ll see you tonight, walk over with you and the girls.” 

“Have a good day,” he said. 

“I will if you take it easy,” you replied, extracting yourself gently from his grip and heading out the door. 

He watched you leave and waited for a few minutes to make sure you were gone before he got up, too. It was almost Christmas and there were things he wanted to do. 

*** 

Joel looked far too pleased with himself, his hand on your thigh as you sat beside him at the Tipsy Bison. You had one of Julie’s special cocktails - something she called the Grinch and tasted like mint - and were well on your way to being tipsy for the first time in months. 

Savvy and Ellie were sitting with some friends - Dina, Jesse, the boy from school you suspected Savvy had a crush on named Kyle - and looked to be having fun. You hoped Savvy would talk to you about it later. She’d been opening up a little bit more, never fully pulling away like she had for so long. You took what you could get, thankful that she was willing to speak to you at all. 

She’d gone with you, Joel and Ellie to the movie the night before. It was Miracle on 34th Street. She seemed to enjoy it, smiling and watching the screen in wonder, soaking it all in. It was bittersweet to see. You’d always wanted to be able to give her these things, the kinds of things you remembered loving as a girl at the holidays. But there was a certain cruelty in it, too. She’d never see a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, never visit a mall Santa. Jackson brought her closer to the life you’d led as a girl but it was still so far away and it was hard, not being able to share it with her.

But Ellie had talked her into spending Christmas Day with you and Joel. You’d damn near kissed her when she told you and you felt a little like you had as a child on Christmas Eve, the greatest gift you could have ever asked for, spending the day with Savvy, Joel and Ellie all together. 

But Joel seemed as excited as you were, a small smile tugging at his lips as you sat across from Tommy and Maria. 

“Can’t believe it’s Christmas again,” Maria said, taking a drink of his beer. “Swear, time goes by faster and faster every damn year.” 

“I’ll take time goin’ faster as long as that means it’s still goin’,” Joel replied. 

“Know that’s right,” Tommy shook his head a little, half smile on his face. “We’re all still standing and after the last year, seems like the best I can ask for.” 

“Y’all doing anything special for William this year?” You asked, turning your cocktail glass slowly in your fingers. “He’s getting big enough to know what’s going on now.” 

“Santa’s planning to make a visit,” Tommy smiled a little. “He’s been pretty good lately, figure that should be rewarded.” 

You smiled back, looking toward Savvy. She was facing the boy on the bench next to her and his fingers traced the outside of her knee and she smiled. 

The music changed, the strains of the song familiar. Hallelujah. You looked toward Joel and he smiled a little wider, the change so subtle you doubted anyone but you would notice. 

“This is hardly a Christmas song.” 

“There’s an argument to be made,” he said. “Heard it on the radio sometimes at Christmastime, it counts.” 

He took his hand off your thigh and held it out to you. An offering. 

“C’mon, baby,” his eyes were hot on you. “Call it an early Christmas present.” 

You put your hand in his and let him lead you to the dance floor. You draped your arms over his shoulders, fingers trailing through his hair as he tugged your body close to his. 

“See?” He said, tracing your nose with his. “Not so bad.” 

“Helps when you’ve got a good partner,” you smiled a little. “How’s that leg of yours doing?” 

“Good as new,” he said. “Definitely isn’t gonna keep me from dancing with you, that’s for damn sure.” 

You laughed a little before you nestled your head against his chest, sighing contentedly. 

“I’m so glad you’re still here to dance with,” you said quietly as you swayed with him. He gave you a gentle squeeze. 

“Me too,” he said softly, almost sadly. 

“I feel like I wasted so much time,” you whispered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes and making your throat tight. You got like this a lot lately, this haze of what almost was hanging over you. “I should have known better and…” 

“Hey,” he said, pulling back from you just enough to look in your eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, didn’t waste anything. I gave you a lot of shit to work through, more than you ever should have had to deal with. You did what you needed to do, s’not a waste.” 

“What if I’d lost you?” You asked softly. “What if I never came over that night, what if…” 

“What if a lot of things,” he cut you off. “Doesn’t matter. We got here. That’s the important thing.” 

He pulled you back against him and you pressed your ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

“Gotta ask,” he said, tone lighter after a moment. “Never had any of those fancy dance classes you had. How do I hold up compared to the guys who did?” 

You laughed once, burying your face in his chest for a moment. 

“Best partner I ever had,” you said. 

He chuckled a little, his lips brushing your forehead. 

“Good.” 

You held him closer, moving with him slowly on the dance floor for a while. You weren’t sure how long. You let yourself get lost in him. The way he swayed in time to a rhythm your body was more in tune with than your mind, the way he felt so warm as he wrapped around you, the way his heart beat and the rise and fall of his chest were constant and stable. The way he was whole in your arms. It was like you could finally relax into that reality, you’d reached a point that you weren’t just scared anymore. He was here, he wasn’t going to fade away to nothing in the night. His heart would keep beating, his chest would keep rising, you wouldn’t need to find a way to do this without him. 

“Ready to go?” He asked softly after what felt like a while. “Want to get you home.” 

“Yeah,” you said, separating from him enough to look at him. “Let’s go.” 

You went and said your goodbyes to Tommy and Maria and Joel stopped by the girls’ table - scaring the shit out of Kyle by the look of it, Kyle’s eyes wide and terrified - before lacing his fingers with yours for the walk home. 

“What did you say to them?” You asked, walking close enough to him that you could feel the slight limp he had now. 

“Told ‘em to get home at a reasonable time,” he shrugged. “And no boys behind closed doors. Don’t want that Kyle kid gettin’ any ideas…” 

You snorted. 

“It looked like you threatened to castrate the boy,” you said. “I don’t want anyone taking advantage of Savvy but I don’t want everyone terrified to date her, either.” 

“Didn’t get that specific with it,” Joel said, a little defensive. “Just made it clear that someone was watchin’. And that someone was me.” 

You smiled and shook your head a little. 

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. “But… thank you. For taking care of my daughter.” 

He looked at you, his face serious as you came to a stop at his front walk.

“Course,” he said. “She’s an amazing kid, Bambi. You did a great job with her. And… might not deserve it but… feels like she’s mine, too. Love her like she’s mine. Hope that’s OK.” 

You looked at him for a moment, his eyes soft and warm, the lines of his face familiar landscapes. For a moment, it was as though your heart had broken open with him, cracked down to the center because the love you had for him couldn’t be held there anymore. You pulled him close to you, kissing him soft and deep. 

Or it started that way, at least. But his body against yours, the sharpness of your love in your chest, the taste of him on your tongue pushed you into desire. It didn’t take much to spark it - it had been so long since you’d had him - but once it was there, it burned hot and fast, swallowing the reminder that you should keep yourself under control quickly. 

“C’mon,” Joel said against your lips, breathless. “Let’s go inside.” 

You nodded and followed him inside, using the short walk from the street to his front door as a chance to try to get the want that was flaring inside you under control. It was too soon, it had to be too soon and you weren’t going to risk Joel’s health just because you were aching to have him as close as possible. 

Joel pulled you back against him as he he closed the door behind the two of you, tilting your head to give him better access to your mouth, his fingertips sinking into your skin as he gripped you tight. You swallowed a moan and tried to keep yourself from giving in even as you pressed yourself closer to him. 

“Joel,” you breathed, pulling your lips from his, his hands still holding you against him. “We… we should stop…” 

“Don’t need to,” he said, kissing you gently again. 

“Joel…” 

“Went to the doctor today,” he kissed over the line of your jaw, following the curve of your bones up to your temple where his lips lingered. “Said there’s a lot I’m allowed to do now. Including everything I want to do to you.” 

He trailed kisses down to your neck and you moaned as his lips pressed into the sensitive skin there. 

“I’ll beg if I have to,” he whispered. “But I need you, baby. Need to have you close, need to be inside of you.” 

“Fuck,” you panted, eyes closed, fighting to focus. “Are…” his mouth found a particularly sensitive spot, kissing and sucking you gently and sending goosebumps spreading over your skin. “Jesus… are you… are you sure? I don’t want you gettin’ hurt…”

“I’m sure,” he said softly, finally pulling his lips from your skin to look in your eyes again, your body cradled against his. “Bein’ apart from you has damn near killed me. Need to feel you.” 

“Need you, too,” you breathed, caving to your baser instincts. “Please, Joel.” 

He kissed you again and you could taste the desperation on his tongue, heat pooling between your hips. He guided you toward the stairs as he shrugged out of his coat and pushed yours off your shoulders and down your arms. He left both in a heap on the floor, keeping his mouth against your own until the two of you were at the base of the stairs. You only separated long enough to go up them, Joel pulling you back against him on the second story landing. 

You let him guide you, tried to focus on being gentle with him instead of pulling him to you and pressing him against you the way you wanted. 

But you could only resist so long. You tugged at his shirt, pulling at the buttons until you could shove it down his arms and toss it to the floor, too. He did the same with yours, discarding it in the hall before pulling you into his bedroom, nudging the door closed with his foot. It wasn’t long before you were both naked next to his bed, bodies pressed close and tight, his cock thick and hard and weeping against your stomach.

You took control then, turning him in your arms so that he was against the bed. He lowered himself back onto it slowly, his grip on you gentle but secure so you were on his lap, straddling him as you kissed him. 

“Really fucking missed you,” he whispered, kissing down your jaw to your neck to your chest. He rocked his hips up against you, his thick shaft nestled against your clit, the motion making you moan. “Goddamn, missed you so much.” 

His hands slipped over your skin to your breasts, cupping and cradling them before lavishing his hot, wet mouth over the soft swell of flesh there. He sucked a nipple into his mouth with a needy groan and you couldn’t help but roll your hips against him as he did, your tight, hot center clenching and gripping at nothing, desperate for something to pull deep inside. Joel’s tongue teased the firm nub between his lips, licking and sucking you, making you moan and rock yourself against him on his lap before moving to the other breast, giving you the same treatment there. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls. He pulled his mouth from your chest to look in your eyes, his gaze soft and hot like starlight. 

“Think you can come like this for me?” He asked softly. “Want you to come for me, want you to be so wet and soft inside for me, think you can do that?” 

You just nodded and his hands slid around to your back as he buried his face in your throat before going back to your breasts as he rutted his thick, dripping length up against your clit, the silken firmness of him pressing close and tight against your wet heat. You ground your hips down against him, desperate for more, to be as close as you could be to him, his body determinedly angled to keep you from working him into you. There was a tightening ache in you, the burn of need for something that was just out of reach making your head spin and pleasure spool.

“Just gotta come for me,” his voice was hot and needy. “Just come for me, all you gotta do. Just come, just come, please baby, just come, want to feel you come like this, you can give me that, know you can…” 

His desperate words were what you needed, the tension in you rising until you felt like you were going to break with wanting before your orgasm hit you hard, a wave of pleasure rolling over you. It was sharp, you hadn’t come in weeks, and you could feel all of it. How your clit throbbed against his cock, how your entranced pulsed and grasped at the root of him, how it seemed like your entire being was trying to pull him into yourself. 

“Oh fuck,” he held you tight to him, his cock pressed tight against you, so firm that you could feel him against your pubic bone. “Fuck, just like that. Gonna feel so good inside you baby, gonna be so goddamn good, just get all that come all over me, feel so good drippin’ all over me.” 

You dropped your head to his shoulder, body going limp for a moment as your orgasm finished. Joel cradled you to him before going to adjust you on the bed but you stopped him, sitting up again and pressing back on his shoulders. 

“Baby,” he groaned but you took his face in your hands and tilted his head so you could kiss him, really kiss him, the kind of kiss that was more hungry and consuming and claiming than anything else. 

“Let me,” you whispered when you pulled your lips from his just enough to speak. He let you adjust him then, until he was flat on his back in the middle of the bed, your folded legs bracketing his thighs. You stroked his cock - wet with your come and leaking his own arousal - before rising onto your knees to notch his thick head at your entrance. Joel’s hands went to your thighs, his thumb tracing the scar there, the one from the knife you’d taken to the leg when trying to save him. His eyes were trained on it, his fingertips digging into your flesh more sharply there than your other leg. His eyes traced up your body to the scar at your stomach, just as harsh and red and raw as the one at your leg. 

“Not tonight,” you said quietly. His eyes found yours. “It’s not about that tonight.” 

He didn’t say anything. Instead, his callused hands slid up your thighs to your hips and you eased down onto his hard length. You moaned as you took him into yourself, his thick cock sinking into your soft heat. He felt so good inside of you, your body remembering just how to make him a part of you. It had been weeks but it didn’t matter, he was built into you now, he fit into you the way no one else ever could, filling and stretching you totally. His breaths stuttered as more and more of him entered you, his fingertips clutching onto the soft flesh of your hips and ass harder and harder with every inch of him that worked its way into you. Just as the ridge of his head ghosted against the back wall of your channel, your hips met his and you let yourself adjust for a moment, savoring the feel of him inside you that way. 

Joel was panting for breath below you, his eyes tracing over your body again and again as your channel gripped him. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he looked in your eyes as he said it. “Most beautiful goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You just moaned a little, your hands coming to rest on the broad expanse of his chest, fingers splaying wide over his skin. But you didn’t move otherwise. He felt too good like this, so deep inside you. You almost didn’t want to move, didn’t care if you didn’t make yourself come with him in you. He was deep inside and he was secure there. You could feel how whole and alive he was, the way his cock throbbed, the pulse of him, the comforting heat. Like this, he was yours. Unquestionably, undoubtedly yours and no one could take him away from you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” his fingers tightened on you. “I… fuck… I need you to move, baby… I can’t keep goin’ like this, I need… I need you to move, need to feel you, please baby, please.” 

You didn’t respond. You just started to rise on his cock, moving your hips slow and shaky over him, making him groan. When just his head was left barely inside your entrance, you thrust back down, his cock splitting you open again, his head falling back, mouth open in a desperate gasp. 

You rode him like that for a while, you weren’t sure how long. The slow and aching lift, the devastating reclaiming as you took him again and again almost meditative. You watched each other, lost in the feeling of your bodies together, working in tandem to become something more than just yourselves. 

Eventually, Joel tugged you closer, tilting you down until he could reach your face, his large palm curving over your jaw, his thumb pressing into your cheek. 

“C’mere,” he whispered in the dim light of the moon on the snow outside his window. “Want to feel more of you.” 

You folded yourself into him, your bodies aligned, his cock still buried deep but your chest now against his, your lips overing over his own, noses against each other. Even in the night, you could see the different shades of brown in his iris like this, all of them soft and full of love for you. 

His hand slid to the small of your back, tilting your hips just so and holding you there as he started thrusting up into you and making you whimper. 

“Let me,” he said softly. 

You just nodded, letting him gently work himself into you again and again. The strokes were aching and smooth, almost rocking as he moved inside of you. The deep, full press of his thick cock into all the soft parts of you that existed because of him, the brief moment of feeling so full and whole before the tender rhythm he set within you pulled him back again. 

“Joel,” you whimpered, so desperate. You weren’t sure you could even say anything else, every other word you’d ever learned reduced down to the only one that mattered in that moment. 

“Together,” he said quietly, never breaking his rhythm. “OK baby? Together.” 

You just nodded quickly. Your body was getting tighter and tighter and you kept your eyes on his, breathing the same air, feeling the press of his warm, soft skin into yours as your orgasm built alongside his. 

“You’re close,” he said. It wasn’t a question and you didn’t need to answer. He could feel you and you could feel him, too. “I’m gonna come, want you to come with me. Going to fill you up so deep, baby, going to feel me so deep and I need to feel you, too.” 

His hand that was on your back pressed into you firmer, taking root at the base of your spine and pushing your hips lower so his cock was deeper longer, his hips pressed against your clit with more heat and tension and, for a moment, it felt as though your entire body was on fire with need before the band of pleasure that had been winding tight inside you snapped. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, rushing out from your core and flooding through the rest of your being just as Joel pressed your hips down and flush with his, holding himself deep as he came with a strangled moan. Your channel fluttered around him, rippling and pulling him into you as he pulsed deep inside. You could feel him so clearly against and inside you, every inch of his skin, every throb of his cock, every gasping breath. You kissed him then, bodies connected in every way, until your orgasms eased and you went limp on top of him. Your head nuzzled against the side of his neck and you breathed in the scent of his skin as you came back down to earth, his arms keeping you flush against him as his cock softened inside of you, the combination of his come and yours already dripping out of you. 

“Never goin’ that long without you again,” he said softly, his fingers tracing slow and easy abstract patterns over your skin. You hummed in agreement. “I’m gettin’ to be too old to be so deprived.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Should start being more careful then,” you said, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair. 

“Well now that I have the proper motivation…” 

You laughed again and closed your eyes. He held you like that for a while, until goosebumps from the winter air started prickling over your skin. He took you more firmly then, slipping his soft cock from the safe, soft warmth of you and slipping you down beside him on the bed. He pulled a blanket over the two of you and you sighed contentedly. He tugged you closer and you happily obliged, your legs tanging with his as he brushed your hair back before holding your face gently in his large hand. You just smiled a little, eyes on his. He smiled back, just enough that his cheek dimpled. 

“You’re still feeling OK?” You asked quietly after a few minutes. 

He laughed lightly. 

“Whole lot better than OK,” he replied. “I’m amazing. Always amazing when I’m with you.” 

You smiled a little wider. 

“You know,” he said slowly. “I had a lot of time to think when I thought I was about to die.” 

Your smile shifted to a frown but his didn’t, not really. His gaze was just soft, gentle. Like he was trying to leave himself as open as he could to take as much of you in as possible. 

“I remember more of that than anything that actually happened in that room. Didn’t have much in the way of regrets,” he continued. “Had you to thank for most of that. Ellie and I had made things right, I was thankful for that. I was thankful you’d come back to me, even if it was just for a night. Thankful I got to tell you I loved you one last time…” 

“Joel,” you whispered. His thumb stroked your cheek. 

“I saw Sarah,” he said quietly. Your eyes went wide but you stayed silent. “When I was unconscious, I saw her. She was someplace good, somewhere that was bright and warm like her. And there was part of me that wanted to stay with her, take care of her and make sure she was OK. But… most of me wanted to come back here and be with you and the girls. And Sarah… she told me that it wasn’t my time yet. Told me I still had things to do here, that I needed to take care of you and Ellie and Savvy and I just… I knew she was right. I felt it, more than I’d felt so many other things, I felt that. I belong here, next to you. I don’t want to have any regrets when it comes to you but right now… well, I got one big one.” 

“What?” You asked quietly, your heart beating faster. 

“That I almost died before having the chance to live as your husband,” he said. Your breath caught. “But you saved me, gave me a chance to do it right. And I don’t think I deserve to ask you for a damn thing but I’m hopin’ you’ll let me, anyway. Will you give me that chance? Will you be my wife, will you marry me?” 

Your heart was beating so fast that you could hear your blood in your ears. You reached out, hand trembling, and cupped his cheek. 

“Of course I will,” you said softly, voice thick and wet. Joel smiled, tears glistening in his eyes, and he kissed you, gentle and deep and lovely, a kiss empty of expectation and full of promise. 

When you separated, you just looked at him for a moment, taking him in, the man who would be your husband. The whole concept made you laugh, the sound bubbling up in you. 

He just smiled. 

“What, baby?” 

“I just…” you paused, still laughing a little. “It’s the end of the world, how do you even get married now? Not like there’s a courthouse…” 

“Well,” he said, rolling away from you for a moment and reaching into the drawer of his nightstand. You propped yourself up on your elbow and frowned, watching as he rolled back with a small wooden box in his hand. “Figure since the paperwork part don’t exist anymore, we can do it whatever way you want to but…” he opened the box. Inside was two rings, both dark metal, one band slender, the other thick. “Thought I’d make sure this part was covered.” 

“Oh Joel,” you sat up all the way, letting the blanket pool around your hips. You took the smaller ring from the box and held it up, looking at it up close. “Where did you find these?” 

“Made ‘em,” he said, sitting up, too. “They’re from one of Ares’ old horseshoes. Figured it was only appropriate…” 

“They’re perfect,” you breathed, turning it over in your fingers for a moment before looking at him. “Could we… I mean, I know it’s fast but… would you be OK if we just did it now?” 

“Did what?” 

“Got married,” you said, watching him. “I understand if you want to wait or want the girls there but…” 

“How do you want to do it?” He cut you off. 

You smiled a little. 

“How about we just make promises to each other.” 

He smiled back. 

“I like it,” he took his ring out and set the box aside. He held it out toward you and you took it before putting your ring in his palm. The two of you faced each other, blankets in your laps, knees brushing under the covers. 

He took a deep breath. 

“I promise I’ll love you with every part of me,” he said. “And I promise I’ll keep lovin’ you until there’s none of me left.” 

“I promise to love you every second of the rest of my life,” you replied. “And every second of whatever comes after, too.” 

“I promise to protect you,” he said. “Promise to never let anything hurt you.” 

“I promise to take care of you,” you said. “And look out for you and protect you because where you go, I go.” 

“I promise to love your girl like she’s my own,” he continued. “And I promise to take care of her and do everything I can to make sure she’s safe and happy.” 

“I promise to love Ellie like you do,” you said. “I promise to help guide her and protect her and give her the life she deserves to have.” 

You looked at each other for a moment, tears in your eyes, before Joel gently took your left hand in his. 

“Think they used to say ‘with this ring, I thee wed,’ or something like that,” he said, thumb tracing your knuckles. 

“That sounds right,” you smiled a little. 

“Alright then,” he said, lining the ring up with your finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.” 

He slipped it into place. It fit perfectly, settling at the base of your finger with a soothing sense of finality. Joel lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed you there, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment before releasing you. You held his ring tight in your palm for a second, warming the metal, before taking Joel’s left hand. You lined the ring up with his finger and took a deep breath before looking him in the eye. 

“With this ring, I thee wed.” 

You slipped it into place, lacing your fingers with his once it settled where it belonged. You smiled, looking down and seeing his ring on your finger before looking back at him again. 

“Think I get to kiss the bride now,” he said. 

You laughed. 

“I think so, too.” 

He pulled you against him gently and kissed you all soft and deep, his lips holding every promise he’d made to you and, for the first time since the end of the world, you knew what it was to feel secure.

Next Chapter

A/N: ❤️

And that's all I have to say about that.

And that there's a lot more story to come. We're not quite to the end yet, I promise.

Thank you for being here and for reading. Love you!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

[rocknrolldecadence]

idk if you write for axl, but i’d love for you to write the most heartbreaking angst where axl’s fit of rage got out of control with reader, and he leaves, but when he comes back, he has to deal with what he did and how it affected the reader !!!

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

act like nothing happened

axl’s outbursts get a bit too much for you.

warnings: axl being rude (but what’s new)

a/n: my first axl request YAYYAYAYAY!! you can see who i write for here if you’re ever stuck 😋😋

“please axl, just listen to m-”

“leave me the fuck alone! i don’t wanna hear it!”

axl slammed the door to your shared bedroom right in front of your face. you two were once again arguing. it felt like routine now - you couldn’t go a few days without axl losing his temper at you over the smallest things. it was draining. so draining.

it was late. he’d only come back maybe half an hour ago after a long day at the studio, writing and recording. you had asked him if tomorrow he could come home a bit earlier so you could spend more time with him. a harmless question. but axl exploded at you, screaming at how ‘you don’t know how hard i’m working!’.

sure, that might be true, but it didn’t warrant a response to you like that. he had stormed off and you followed, which left you here, standing outside the door trying to get him to listen. it wasn’t working.

“axl! open the fucking door!” you shouted, knocking hard on the white wood. you got no reply.

you sighed and accepted defeat yet again. entering the living room, you fell into a slump on the sofa. the multitude of blankets and pillows embraced you better than axl had done this past month. it felt like forever that you stayed there, trying to get some rest. sleep evaded you endlessly.

it was pitch black outside when you heard axl storming down through the hallway and into the living room. you sat up and didn’t say a word. he was rummaging through the drawers.

“where the fuck are my keys?” he spat at you, not bothering to even look in your direction.

“uh- i don’t know.” you replied helplessly.

“well i left them here when i came in,” he said pointing at the drawer he was currently looking in, “so where the fuck did you put them?”

“i didn’t put them anywhere, axl. i don’t know where-”

“don’t lie to me! just tell me where they are so i can fucking leave!” he spun around, now staring you right in the eye.

“i said i don’t know!” you told him again, close to tears.

he scoffed, and as quickly as he came in, he was gone. he slammed the front door behind him, making you even more upset. crumpling up on the sofa, you began to sob. then you noticed his keys. they were sitting on the mantelpiece. that made you just break down. then you started to think. was it worth it anymore? being with him? you debated the question in your mind. troubled thoughts like that plagued you until you eventually fell asleep.

you woke up in the late morning expecting axl to be back. he wasn’t. you searched throughout the whole house, but he was nowhere to be found.

it was the same the next morning too. you were worried now. yes, sometimes he left when you were fighting, but never for 24 hours. what could he possibly be doing?

it was late evening when axl came back. the sky was a dark shade of grey-blue. you were standing by the phone, trying to figure out what place to call for takeout. the door opened and you jumped.

“hey baby!” axl said as he walked in. you didn’t answer.

“oh cool, are we getting takeout? i was thinking maybe some italian food…” he went on before noticing the angry stare you gave him, “what?”

“axl, are you fucking serious?”

“what… what do you mean?”

“don’t play dumb with me. you screamed at me and left me alone for two days over something fucking *tiny.* then you come home and act like nothing happened. are you actually insane?” you seethed.

axl’s face dropped. clearly, he hadn’t realised how his actions had affected you. “darling, i’m so sor-”

“don’t give me that shit. order your own food.” you told him, storming off to your bedroom.

about an hour later, a soft knock was heard on your door. in came axl, a bag of takeout in hand. you sighed, but let him come in.

“i’ll go get the drinks. be right back.” he said, dipping out of the room and leaving the bag on the bed.

you reached over and sorted out the food, not bothering to shout for plates. he had gotten your favourite. a smile crept slowly onto your face. as you finished dishing out the food, axl came back, a can of coke for each of you.

“i’m sorry. i’ve been trying to work on these fucking-”

“its alright. just… don’t walk out on me next time.” you laughed.

“i won’t.” axl smiled, leaning over to kiss you.

[benispunk]

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 5: We Stay Silent

All jokes aside, Wade had too much stuff to deal with. Keeping up his mask was way too hard.

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, panic attack, mental health issues.

A/N: chapter five is up!!! this one is directly connected to the previous chapter, it's basically the same chapter but from wade's pov, so please make sure you read Part 4 before reading this one!! Please don't be made at me I love wade so much😔✊

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist / Previous Part

Wade woke up later than usual, sunlight already creeping through the blinds. His phone buzzed on the nightstand with a few missed notifications, but he didn’t bother checking them right away. He stretched lazily, rubbing his face. The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet. Logan and Y/N had already left for work, probably hours ago. Good. He didn't think he was in the mood for any morning chit-chat for once.

After throwing on his running gear and grabbing a water bottle, Wade slipped out of the apartment and into the cool morning air. He’d hit his usual route— nothing too long today. He wasn’t up for pushing himself too hard.

He never liked running. He always wondered what part of running was actually satisfying for some people. It helped him clear his mind, gave him space to think, or better yet, not think at all. Maybe he had a toxic relationship with running. Maybe it worked like a drug on him. But he knew he would rather run until his legs give out rather than go down the same path he followed years ago. He knew better now.

The streets were familiar, and Wade let his feet carry him through the neighborhood without much thought. His mind wandered, as it often did, from jokes he was working on to what gig he had next to the weird thing Logan had said last night. Everything felt scattered, but that was normal. He was used to living with his thoughts bouncing around like a pinball machine. His mind felt like a computer with thousands of tabs opened.

But then, just as he rounded a corner near the park, Wade froze. Vanessa.

She was standing there, a few meters away, looking just like she used to—like a ghost from a past life. She hadn’t seen him yet, thank god. His heart slammed into his chest, panic rising as he quickly debated turning around and bolting. Too late.

“Wade?”

Her voice caught him mid-step. He turned, awkwardly waving like an idiot.

“Vanessa, hey!” Wade’s voice came out higher than he wanted, and the grin he plastered on his face felt all wrong.

Vanessa smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, looking genuinely happy to see him. “I knew that was you. How’ve you been?”

Wade’s brain scrambled for something, anything to say. How have I been? That was a fucking big question. How do you explain six years of missing someone without falling apart? He ran a hand through his hair, nervously glancing at his shoes.

“Oh, you know… same old, same old.” He tried to laugh it off, but his voice cracked.

She didn’t seem to notice his internal chaos. “It’s been so long, huh? We should catch up sometime, what do you think?”

He wanted to run. Run so fast he could break his legs and never even feel it. Catch up? What does that even mean? How do you catch up with someone you’ve been in love with since forever even after you both decided that being friends would be better, and bla bla bla, why was he thinking about this again?

He did his best at hiding his internal panic and forced himself to stay still, nodding like an idiot.

“Yeah, totally! That would be great.” He was still smiling like a maniac, but inside, every alarm bell was going off. Abort. Abort. Abort.

Vanessa seemed pleased with that answer, though. “Great! I’ll text you.”

“Yeah! See ya around, V,” Wade blurted before turning on his heel and jogging away as fast as he could without looking completely insane. He could feel her eyes on him as he sprinted, and he didn’t stop until he was several blocks away, breathing hard.

“Good job, Wade. You fuckin’ idiot,” he muttered to himself, wiping sweat from his forehead. His chest felt tight, but it wasn’t from the run. It was that familiar pressure building inside him, the one he tried so hard to ignore. The feeling of not being able to handle any of it.

———

Wade stood outside Blind Al’s door, debating whether to knock or not. He hadn’t seen her in a while, but she had been a constant in his life during the toughest times. Before Logan. Before everything fell apart.

He knocked, and her voice came through the door, as sharp as ever. “Took you long enough to visit, jackass.”

Wade smiled despite himself, pushing the door open. “Miss me, Al?”

“Not in the slightest,” she quipped. Wade knew she couldn’t see, but the way she was standing in front of him made it look like she was staring right through him, “Something’s going on with you. Spill it.”

Wade plopped down on her couch, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Ran into Vanessa.”

Blind Al didn’t react. She just sat back in her chair. “That so? And you didn’t completely lose your shit?”

Wade snorted. “Define ‘completely.’ I told her we’d catch up, and then I ran away like a coward. Does that count?”

“Yeah, that counts,” Al said, her voice gruff but understanding. “So what now?”

“I don’t know.” Wade rubbed his temples. “She seemed happy, like genuinely happy to see me, and I just… I don’t know what to do with that.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Al said bluntly. “She’s part of your past, and that’s fine. Doesn’t mean you have to dive back into that mess.”

“Yeah, but what if…” Wade trailed off, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t even sure what he was asking.

“Look, you’ve got your life now. You’ve got Logan, and now this new girl, Y/N, right? Stick to what’s real. Don’t go chasing ghosts.” Al’s voice softened slightly, and Wade felt a pang of gratitude for her, "Or go for it. Just, don’t think about it too much. Let things go their own way." she added.

Easier said than done, but duly noted.

Suddenly, she got up from her chair and walked towards her kitchen. Wade watched her come back with a cup of not-at-all full of alcohol coffee and settle back in her chair.

"So, you didn’t tell me about that new roommate…"

He stayed with her for lunch and then they talked all afternoon. He told her everything she had to know about Y/N, and how Logan was doing, too. But still, he couldn’t shake the thought of what had happened that morning. Vanessa. Al was always right, but the pressure in his chest still hadn’t gone away. It wasn’t just Vanessa. It was everything. 

———

By the time Wade got back to the apartment building, the weight in his chest had doubled. He made a turn into an alleyway, the walls suddenly feeling too close. His breath came in shallow gasps, and his hands started to shake.

No no no no no, not now. Not here.

He pressed himself into the corner, knees pulling up to his chest as he tried to get control, but it wasn’t working. He felt like he was drowning, like the air was being sucked out of the alley. Everything was overwhelming.

Breathe, Wade. Just fucking breathe.

He fumbled for his phone and dialed his therapist’s number. He knew she had given him her personal phone number just for emergencies but maybe, maybe this time, it was an emergency. He needed it. Because breathing wasn’t working. After a few agonizing rings, she picked up.

“Wade? What’s going on?”

He could barely get the words out, his voice shaking. “I…I c—can’t »

“Okay, okay,” she said calmly. “You’re going to be fine. You know the drill. Slow your breathing.”

Wade tried, focusing on her voice. After what felt like hours, his breathing steadied, but the tightness in his chest remained.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked and Wade had no idea what to answer. Air was back in his lungs, yes. But that was it.

"I’m losing it. I don’t know what to do." He waited a few seconds for his therapist to answer. When she didn’t, he continued. "I’m lost. I can’t make a choice. I feel like a fuckin’ loser and I don’t know why people are still keeping up with me. And I called you, god, I’m so sorry, I know it’s supposed to be for emergencies only—"

She interrupted him, "Wade, this was an emergency."

Wade shook his head and he watched his free hand for a few seconds, it was shaking like crazy. He didn’t say anything for a while. "Can we have a session soon?"

“Of course, Wade. Can you get to someone, right now? A friend?”

“Logan,” Wade muttered. “I could go see Logan.”

“Good. Do that. You’ve got people, Wade. Lean on them.”

Wade nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah… yeah, I’ll go see Logan.”

He hung up and dragged himself to his feet, wiping at his face. Get it together, Wade.

———

Logan’s classroom was quiet when Wade arrived, a rare moment of calm at the end of a long day. The coffee shop near the center was still open, so Wade grabbed a box of donuts and two coffees before heading over. Showing up unannounced wasn’t unusual for him—Logan never seemed to mind (he did– Wade chose to ignore it). Besides, the guy could use a donut break anyway.

But as Wade neared the door, that familiar tightness crept back into his chest. Logan’s gonna see right through me. He paused, forcing down the rising anxiety, plastering on his usual grin before pushing the door open.

“Hey, I come bearing gifts. You looked like you could use a sugar rush.”

Logan frowned as soon as he saw him. “You okay?”

I hate him so much.

Wade waved him off, doing his best to sound casual. “Me? Of course! I’m always okay. What’re you talking about?”

Logan didn’t press further, but Wade could feel his friend's eyes lingering on him, studying him like he could sense the tension beneath the surface. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Logan to ask again or not. Wade kept talking, cracking jokes, doing his usual routine, but something in Logan’s steady silence made it harder to maintain.

They sat together, sipping coffee and biting into donuts, the atmosphere light but heavy at the same time. He knew Logan saw through him. He always did. But Logan didn’t push, and for that, Wade was grateful.

As they left the center together, Wade kept the conversation rolling, letting his words spill out faster than usual, a habit he’d sharpened over the years. Keep talking, keep things light, and maybe Logan wouldn’t dig deeper.

“...and I swear, man, if this one guy hadn’t backed off, I would’ve–”

“You sure you’re okay?” Logan’s voice cut through Wade’s ramble, and oh my god, was he using a gentle tone on me?

The question sent a jolt of panic through Wade. He felt the familiar tightening in his chest again, the pressure pushing against the cracks. Not now. Not here.

He immediately forced a laugh, one that felt too loud in his ears, like he wasn’t the one laughing . “Of course! Stop worrying about me, peanut. You’ve got your own crap to deal with. Speaking of which,” Wade added quickly, redirecting the conversation towards something he knew Logan wouldn’t press on, “how’s it going with Y/N, huh? Been hanging out together without me, yet?”

Logan rolled his eyes, but Wade didn’t miss the shift in his expression. He knew Logan had caught the distraction, knew the guy could read him like an open book. But Logan didn’t push, not yet.

“She’s our roommate, Wade,” Logan said.

Wade threw him a wink, keeping up the act. “Sure, sure. Got it.”

Logan let it slide, like Wade knew he would. He always did. Pushing Wade for answers never worked. Logan had learned that a long time ago. He’ll ask again later, Wade thought, the weight of it settling somewhere deep inside him. But for now, at least, Logan let it go.

Wade kept talking, kept deflecting, but even as his voice filled the air, he could feel Logan’s gaze on him, steady, waiting. Logan would be there when the time came, ready to listen. Wade knew that. He always knew that.

But right now? Wade wasn’t ready. Not yet. So he smiled, cracked another joke, and pushed the feeling down a little further.

Maybe later.

XXX

[piningforstan]

Too Sweet

Summary: Stan has lied and cheated and fought his whole life, and he’s not exactly sure when he had time to do whatever it took to deserve you.

Pairings: Stanley Pines x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: mention of an age gap, suggestive adult content but nothing graphic, fluff with some light angst

A/N: Inspired by Hozier’s song by the same name!! I seriously need an edit of Stan to it

Also, an age gap LI with Stan (like they’re in their 30s or 40s) just really does something to me. Stan mentions “women” once in the story but otherwise I wrote it with the intent of being GN.

A shift of the mattress roused him from his fitful sleep. Stan cracked open an eye. The flickering alarm clock told him that he’s only been asleep for a few hours, he vaguely remembered creeping into the bedroom sometime after three. Dreaming peacefully then, free of punishing nightmares, you now stood with your back to him, stretching your arms up over your head.

His gaze traveled appreciatively from your head to the slip of skin revealed by your t-shirt lifted ever so slightly. Pale morning light slanted into the room in thin bars thrown across your face. You hum to yourself as you pull on your bathrobe and shuffle into the bathroom, Stan watching you from heavy lidded eyes the entire time.

A groan climbed up his throat. He threw one arm over his face.

What was he doing?

He didn’t miss the time when he would wake up alone, head muddled by alcohol. He missed the time when he did not feel so goddamn guilty. Your presence reminded him constantly that you were too…good for him. He had lived a long, shitty life and it never bother him — his decisions, his lifestyle — when he was by himself. But now you were here.

Not only were you younger than him, you had never done a fucking bad thing in your life. You went to bed at a decent time and always woke up early to watch the sunrise, you faced everything with unflinching enthusiasm. You smiled and laughed and danced without inhibition or regret. And, worst of all, you looked at him and loved him in spite of his mistakes and wrongdoings.

When the bathroom door opened he quickly pretended to be asleep again, the knot in his stomach tightening as you stopped to press a kiss on his cheek on your way out.

By the time he actually woke up, he didn’t even want to acknowledge the time, Stan shuffled into the kitchen to find his family immersed in a heated debate. Mable stood on her chair with Waddles on the table, gesticulating wildly while you and Dipper argued with her.

Upon spotting Stan, Mable cried out, “Grunkle Stan! We need your help.”

Stan scratched his chin. “What is it, kid?”

“If Waddles was going to wear pants —”

“They would be like this, right?” You intervened before Mable could finish, drawing a line around the pig’s midsection then gesturing towards his back half. Dipper nodded, signaling his approval.

“No, no, no, no,” Mable said, “it would be this way. To cover all his wittle wegs.”

She indicated the imaginary pants around his entire body, covering the entirety of his lower half. Stan stared in disbelief as the debate lapsed into an argument once more.

“I need coffee,” he grunted.

Without even stopping, you pressed a steaming mug into his hand, then raised your eyebrows expectantly.

Stan sighed. “Why is the pig wearing pants? That lucky son of a gun has been naked since the day he was born.”

“Just hypothetically,” Dipper said.

Turns out, Stan’s opinion wasn’t actually needed. Rather, you and the twins set to speculating about the possibility of pig pants without including him. Eventually he just collapsed into one of the ancient chairs and sipped his coffee, willing his headache to go away. He noted affectionately how passionate you were about this topic of choice, always ready to leap into whatever strange scheme his family concocted.

After some time Mabel loudly exclaimed that she was going to knit pants for Waddles to “prove everyone wrong!” and the debate dispersed. Dipper stormed off muttering, leaving Stan alone with you.

You looked still deep in thought as you collected your own now cold coffee and sat back down. You poured in about half the container of sugary creamer.

“You should’ve been on my side,” you sniffed. Stan knew by the hint of a smile on your mouth — god, your mouth — that you were teasing.

“My policy is always no pants,” Stan said. “No doubt about it. No pants.”

You rolled your eyes. “Clearly.”

Stan shifted in his seat, grinning at you. He never bothered putting on pants in the morning, just his reliable ol’ boxers.

“Hey, you’re lucky I’ve got these on. Anyways, you weren’t complaining last night by —”

“FORD!” You quickly exclaimed.

Stan’s grin only grew more pronounced as his brother strode into the room. If Ford had heard the tail end of your conversation, he didn’t mention it. More often than not Sixer was so completely in his own world that he barely knew he had company.

Stan liked how your cheeks were still pink as you bid Ford good afternoon. Afternoon. Fuck.

Panic spiraled through him.

“I’ve got a tour to give —”

You waved your hand while sipping your coffee. “I rescheduled it for…” you consulted your phone, “thirty minutes from now. Better hurry, old man.”

“Thanks, kid. You really saved my bacon.”

“Again,” Ford muttered.

Stan shot him a glare but still hurried out of the kitchen to get changed. He glimpsed Mabel in the living room, crisscrossed on the carpet, measuring Waddles for his pants. The pig snorted pleadingly in Stan’s direction.

“Women,” Stan said, “always making guys like us put on pants.”

Stan would have to be his brother to count on his fingers how many times you anticipated something he needed. The coffee. The tour. A distraction for the tourist when the googly eye of one of the exhibits popped off. A redeeming interpretation of his reaction to Waddles’ pants after spitting out his beer. Then, to top it all off at the end of the day, encircling your arms around his middle and sagging into him. His heart surged with profound emotion.

“Ah, c’mere, kid,” he mumbled against your hair. You smelled like home.

Stan held you tight. Too many times he had let the good things in his life go, slip right through his grip. He was determined not to lose you too.

He fumbled to find the words he’s been meaning to tell you all day. “I, um…thank you. For today.”

For every day.

The words stuck in his throat.

“For what?” You blinked at him. The need to protect you, to preserve your happiness and well-being, seized him so strongly that it took him several moments to compose himself.

“Ya know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Saving my ass. Yer, uh, too sweet for me. Ya know what I mean?”

How many more times would he say ya know? Did he know any other words?

Your face lights up anyways. “I love your ass. I will always save it. Don’t want anything happening to it.” You squeezed said ass playfully and he smirked in response. “But seriously, Stan, you don’t have to thank me. I love you. That’s what you do for someone you love.”

Stan bristled. No matter how long he had been with you, after several months of skittering around each other, he wouldn’t get used to those words leaving your mouth. His parents had never uttered them, nor his brother. Hell, he rarely said it, can only remember saying them to you.

If he ever said them to anyone else — any past lovers or ex-wives — it was in a placating nature, never like this. Never real.

“Anyway, you do lots of things for me too,” you tell him.

“Do I?”

You lay your head back on his chest. “I always fall asleep before you do and you always make sure to tuck me in and refill my water when you come in. You make me laugh and you make me feel safe.”

You kept listing examples but truthfully he had stopped listening. Stan realized he did do these things, things that he didn’t even think about doing, he just did.

“—maybe you’re just too sweet for me,” you finish, drawing him back.

“Ha!” Stan laughs. Hopefully it’s more convincing than it sounds to his own ears, self-deprecating instead of secretly pleased. “Better not let anyone else hear you say that or I’d have to give them a knuckle sandwich.”

“THEY FIT!”

You closed your mouth. Whatever you were going to say is swallowed by the sounds of Mabel’s excitement. Stan smiled at you as you grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the sound of Mabel’s demands — come here! come here! — and Waddles in his new pants.

He committed everything about you to memory as you stooped down to admire Waddle and commend Mabel for her hard work. Stan knew that you would fit in perfectly with his family. He never would’ve guessed that someday he couldn’t imagine his family without you in it, couldn’t even conjure a day without you there.

Maybe you were too sweet for him.

But he was sweet on you.