#be like hey. this is how you can get better but its still good either way

[waterfallofspace]

When H/awks gets a voice message from D/abi, he doesn't have a clue what he's getting into. (Strongly implied kink!Hawks)

First H/otwings wav~ (and content at all~). It's nothing super big, just a little idea I've had for a bit, and I had time to throw something together~ Mayyybe the fact (most of) it's a voice message can forgive the quality issues? <3

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

[signedkoko]

Signed with Love - Hazbin Cast

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely readers! Its valentines/love letters from your favourites 🖤

Characters - Adam | Alastor | Charlie | Cherri | Husk | Lucifer | Lute | Pentious | Vaggie

Series Parts Overlords & SIns - Here! Helluva Cast - Here!

Sup bitch,

Looking for a valentine, cupid told me ur my soulmate, so how about you be mine?

You know I love teasing ya babe, but really, I got a reso for that restaurant you love, I'd tell you what to wear but the less the better.

Lova ya hot stuff

ORIGINAL DICKMASTER

Salutations my lovely doe!

Another opportunity to show my dear just how much I love them, what more could I ask?

I'd offer my cooking, but I know you don't have quite the palette for venison. Instead, I've prepared a private dinner, catered to by a lovely cafe a good friend of mine runs.

I'll be there to get you at half past two,

A.

Hiii ❣

I hope you don't mind me asking but I REALLY wanted to be the one to ask if you'd be my valentine?

I haven't decided what we should do yet, I was thinking rock climbing, or how about a fancy dinner? Ahh I have so many ideas! We can talk about it later!

Thinking of you always,

Charlie (Morningstar, Princess of Hell, Manager of the Hazbin Hotel (now booking!!), potential valentine of you!)

Heya girly,

I'm not one for holidays, but I know you reallllly wanted to try this one out. So! be my valentine?

I'll bring you to that great viewpoint I hang at, maybe show you how I make some of my arsenal. Just dress comfy, it's going to be a lot of moving!

You better be swooning already!

Your favourite 💣

Hey,

I'm thinking this year we could try something new. As stupid as it sounds, will you be my valentine?

I've got a stack of rental movies and one empty ass theatre room. Still sure no one realized we even have one, but what the hell, right? Let me know what you think and we can go pick up some drinks before.

Looking forward to it,

Husker

Hiii ❣

I know you told me not to go crazy this year, but how could I not! So, valentine...

I left a bag with this note, it's got a few outfits for you to pick that will match mine! Just be ready by 6 tonight, we've got a lot of stops. Drinks, dinner, a performance at Ozzie's, and a reserved spot in my bed tonight.

Happy valentines day,

Yours truly

I pray this letter reaches you,

Maybe you don't expect it of me, but you deserve to feel as special as everyone else this valentines.

So, I've got a surprise dinner set up for us this valentines. If you are willing, dress nice for four tomorrow and I can take you for a flight before it. Just don't wear anything that might fall off.

Your angel,

Lt. Lute

Dearest serpentine,

It would be ever so joyous to accompany you this valentines, if that is okay of course!

My egg bois have insisted upon serenading us and treating us to a nice dinner in my war machine. I promise you it is in prim and proper shape for such a day.

Yours sincerely

(Future) Overlord Pentious

Hey hun,

You've talked a lot about valentines recently, and while I know we said we'd overlook it, I feel like you deserve to know how much I love you.

When you get the chance, I've got a bottle of wine and a free night to decide what we want to do. Just swing by after eight?

See ya valentine,

Vaggie

Authors Note - Ahahaha can you tell I don't write Adam much? Either way, part one of the valentines series 🖤 If you don't have a valentine this year, please allow me to be yours! Or let me know which of these folks you'd accept a letter from 🤭

[lucyrose191]

Hey could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she's been feeling unwell but insists she's coming to the track and he's worried about her. Long short story, their son (Jack) with her and she felt like she's going to go faint and she tell Jack to find Toto for her and Toto's being her knight in shining armor,rescued her. Just fluff and comfort. Tag me later. Thanks! :))

TAKE IT EASY| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Toto Wolff x Wife!reader

Summary; Your stubbornness to admit you may be feeling unwell might just be your downfall one day but your husband will always be there to catch you, as will your son.

Warnings; none

F1 Master List

You could feel the worried gaze of your husband from where he was standing in the en-suite getting dressed, he had woken up before you this morning which was his first notification that something was wrong but once he saw your flushed cheeks and pressed the back of his hand against your forehead he knew you certainly weren’t well.

He had tried to convince you to go back to bed but you refused, you were here to support him and Jack was so excited to attend a race again and whilst Toto was more than capable of looking after him, it was just easier for you to take care of Jack and entertain him because Toto still had work to do, a toddler didn’t just want to sit in the garage and wait for their father to finish a bunch of things before having fun.

So you insisted that you were fine and were adamant on going to the track, ignoring the churning of your stomach, fogginess in your mind and how weak your body felt.

Toto wasn’t happy with your decision at all, your health was so much more important to him than any race that he had brought up not going himself but you had shot down that idea before he could even finish his sentence.

So he relented.

You were now on your way to the track, the car wasn’t doing anything good for your stomach, leaving you to lean your head against the window with your eyes closed as you took deep breaths through your nose.

What was meant to be the comforting touch of your husband rubbing his hand back and forth across your thigh wasn’t helping with the nausea you felt either because all you could think about was how similar the touch was to him rubbing his hand up and down your back as you threw up.

Jack was in the back babbling nonstop about how excited he was to see Lewis again and hopefully sit in the car and you loved your son so much but your head was so fuzzy that everything he was saying you were hearing three times and you couldn’t think straight.

"Mama?" His small voice called out and you could perfectly hear the undertone of excitement.

"Yeah, darling?" You slowly turned around in your seat so you could look at him, mustering up the biggest smile you could for him.

"Can we see Charles and Carlos, today?" He asked, face filled with hope.

"We can do whatever you want to do but remember they’ll be very busy preparing for the race so they might not have time to speak with you."

"Okay, and can we see Bono?" He asked.

"Yes," you smiled weakly.

"And Mick?"

"If you want to, yes."

"And Lando and Oscar too?"

"We’ll do whatever you want to do Jack."

"Well I want food before we see Lando," he said strong cause you to laugh.

"Yeah, we mustn’t forget about that," you agreed before turning back in your seat. Of all the days for your son to be riddled with energy, today was not really ideal but you suppose that’s what comes with being a parent.

You rested your head back against the window, looking out at the streets you passed, reaching out blindly your clasped your hand with Toto’s that hadn’t removed from its position on your leg, hoping his touch could help you feel even the slightest bit better.

Toto released a deep breath as he turned off the car and turned to look at you. You hadn’t even registered that you had arrived at the track, still staring out the window in a daze. "It’s not too late to turn around and go back to the hotel, we can go back to bed." He spoke up quietly, not wanting to startle her.

You shook your head and turned to him with a smile, "I’ll be fine, come on, jack’s getting antsy," you responded, hearing your son trying and failing to unfasten his seatbelt.

Your husband huffed in defeat and reluctantly got out the car, opening the door behind his to let Jack out, you heard him entertain his childish rambling and as soon as the door shut you took a second to take a deep breath before getting out yourself.

"Mummy’s not feeling today so it’s up to you to take care of her okay?" Toto whispered to his son, who was resting on his hip, so you couldn’t hear.

Jack frowned and looked to his father in concern for you. "She’s poorly?"

Toto nodded "She’s doesn’t feel well, are you going to keep an eye on her for me?" Jack nodded with a determined look on his face before wriggling for Toto to put him down.

"Mummy!" He ran around the car as soon as his feet his the ground so he could get to you.

"Yeah, baby?" You crouched down, surprised when he wrapped his arms around your neck in a hug.

"I don’t want to see Charles, Carlos or Lando today, can we just get food and stay in Papa’s office and watch the race from the garage?" He asked.

You looked at him in confusion at his sudden change, he was beyond excited earlier and whilst you were relieved at the change in what he wanted, you were surprised at how abruptly he didn’t want to go and see the other drivers anymore.

"Are you sure that’s what you want?" You asked, skeptical as he nodded confidently but you reluctantly agreed.

"Okay then," you grabbed his hand and Toto grabbed his other as the three of you made your way into the track, you ignored the worried eyes of your husband that kept flickering to you every few seconds, the pair of you ignored the fans and shouts of media reporters as you weren’t in the mood to feign happiness and Toto was just far too concerned about you.

You had hoped that as day went by you would start to feel better but if anything you felt worse, you had went to hospitality with Jack to get some food to take back to Toto’s office but the mixture of smells had sent you spiralling and you tried to get out of there as quick as possible.

You and Jack had been in Toto’s office for about an hour and you hadn’t seen your husband in about two.

Jack was being on his best behaviour though, you don’t know where his change in what he wanted to do today came from but he seemed content sitting on the floor with his snacks and watching the live recording of the track on your phone.

You had sat yourself down on Toto’s chair to try and relax a bit but your head was spinning so much and your vision was starting to blur.

"Jack?" You called out weakly, you had tried to sound as though everything was okay as to not worry him but it didn’t work that well.

"Mama?" Jack pulled himself up to his feet immediately, live broadcast long forgotten as he saw his mother even paler than you had been this morning and leaning against his father’s desk, a thin layer of perspiration on your skin.

"Can you go get Papa for me? Tell him I need him quickly." You told him, trying to smile at him but your body didn’t even have the energy for that.

Jack didn’t need to be told twice, he turned around and ran to find Toto, opening the door with so much force that it banged against the wall before closing half way again.

"Papa!"

The Mercedes team all looked away from what they were doing and turned towards the sound of Jack’s panicked voice followed by the sight of him running through the garage with a petrified look on his face, searching for his dad.

"Papa!" He pretty much screamed, fear overtaking his body knowing that something was really wrong with his mother right now and you were alone and he couldn’t find his father.

The Mercedes team were worried beyond belief as they took in just how scared Jack was and how desperate he sounded for Toto who wasn’t in the garage at the moment.

"Jack?" Lewis slowly approached the boy who was stood in the middle of the garage, looking all around him, tears welling up in his eyes when he couldn’t see his dad.

He looked at Lewis frantically. "Where’s Papa?" He demanded.

"I think he’s speaking to someone right now, are you okay?" Lewis crouched down in front of him.

Jack shook his head aggressively, "I need Papa, Mama needs him quickly!"

"Where’s your mama?" Lewis asked as worry filled him. "Show me where she is, maybe I can help her?"

But Jack shook his head "no, she needs Papa, she told me to get him quickly."

Lewis sighed but nodded, a bad feeling was settling have in his chest for you. "Okay, you stay right here and don’t move and I’m going to go and get your dad, okay?"

"You need to be quick!" Jack told him desperately.

"I’ll be as quick as I can." Lewis told him, giving a look to the team to keep an eye on him before turning and quite literally running out of the garage.

People stopped and watched in confusion as they saw Lewis Hamilton running through the pits, looking around frantically for someone.

It didn’t take him long to see Toto sticking out from the crowd, in the middle of an interview with Martin Brundle, he didn’t care that it was live and brutally interrupted the pair of them, grabbing Toto’s arm. "You need to come with me, now. It’s important."

Seeing the serious look in his driver’s eyes, a million scenarios swirled around in Toto’s mind. He didn’t even excuse himself from Martin knowing that Lewis wouldn’t just crash his interview for no reason.

What took him back more was the fact that his driver had started running back into the direction of their garage and Toto didn’t hesitate to follow.

He couldn’t imagine how this looked, Lewis running through the paddock frantically, crashing Toto’s live interview and the pair of them running back.

"What is wrong?" He huffed as they weaved in and out of the masses of people crowding in the pits.

Lewis kept his voice down as he explained, not wanting this to hit the internet from someone overhearing. "I have no idea, Jack was screaming in the middle of the garage, looking for you. He said Y/N needed you quickly so I tried to get him to tell me where she was but he wouldn’t, said she told him to get you as quick as he could, he looked terrified."

A deep sickening feeling settled into the pit of Toto’s stomach as he quickened his pace, he knew you weren’t well today and the multiple scenarios of what could possibly have happened scared him.

"Papa!" Jack yelled as soon as he saw his father enter the garage, running straight for Toto and diving into his legs. "Quickly! Mama said she needs you."

Toto picked Jack up and looked him in the eye. "You stay here with Lewis, okay? I’m going to go see Mama."

Jack nodded, suddenly a lot more calm now that his dad was here and didn’t complain when he was passed off to Lewis.

Toto quickly made his way to his office and as soon as he stood in the threshold of the doorway, his heart fell to his stomach as he lay his eyes upon you, unconscious on the floor by his desk.

He was by your side in a second, kneeling next to you as he rolled you onto your side and moved your hair from your face.

"Liebe?" He gently tapped the side of your face, trying to coerce you out of unconsciousness.

At no response, he pressed the back of his hand against your forehead, grimacing at the amount of heat he felt radiating from your body. Looking around his office, he saw a glass of ice water sitting on his desk, he grabbed the glass and dipped his hand inside before pressing it back against your forehead, hoping it would cool you down a bit.

"Schatz?" He tried to wake you again, this time successful as he heard a slight change in your breathing and saw your eyes moving beneath your lids.

"Y/N, you’re okay, take it easy." He continued speaking to try and coerce you more awake, smiling when he saw your eyes open.

You were confused to see your husband hovering above you, your mind was foggy and your body felt so heavy you couldn’t move your limbs.

Looking around, you found that you were lying on the floor causing your face to contort into confusion.

Turning back to Toto, you blinked up at him and upon seeing the questioning look on your face, he explained. "You fainted, and gave Jack quite the fright too."

Hearing Jack’s name, your body filled with worry and you tried to sit up but Toto’s hands on your shoulders encouraged you to lay back down. "He’s fine, he’s with Lewis."

"Need a drink," you told him causing him to look at the glass on the edge of his desk.

"I’ll get you a new one, I put my hand in that one to try and cool you down," he told you.

You shook your head, "it’s fine," you held out your hand for him to just give you the one on the desk, not really wanting him to leave at the minute.

Toto brought the glass to your lips, insisting on hosing it for you since your hands were shaky and he didn’t want you spilling it all over yourself. "Have you had anything to eat?"

You shook your head, the idea of food earlier had knocked you funny but you know you should probably eat something.

"I’ll get someone from hospitality to make you some toast," he told you, not really giving you the opportunity to refuse, not that you would have anyways. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yeah, thank you." you replied, sitting yourself up to lean against his desk. It was as though passing out was what your body needed to recover because the fuzziness in your head had faded away, the hot flush all over your body was gone and your stomach was no longer churning anymore, it just felt empty.

"We should’ve stayed at the hotel," Toto repeated for what felt like the hundredth time today and you couldn’t even argue with him this time. "I know," you responded.

"Do you want to stay in here and rest while the race is happening? I can keep Jack with me."

You shook your head, "No, I want to watch it out there; I’ll be fine."

Toto sighed but nodded.

"Mama!" Jack ran away from Lewis and towards you as soon as he saw you and Toto leave his office, you smiled widely and crouched down for him to run into your arms despite Toto’s protests, knowing you still felt a bit weak.

"Hi, baby," you wrapped your arms around him tightly and rubbed a hand up and down his back.

"I got Papa just like you said," he spoke into your shoulder.

"I know, you did such a good job," you told him proudly.

Toto insisted that you stay near him whilst the race was happening, not willing for you to leave his sight incase anything else happened so you curled up on a chair beside him with Jack on your lap, the boy also not wanting to be far from you, with Toto’s large coat draped over the pair of you.

A plate of toast and a glass of water had been set in front of you next to the monitors and there was no way you could stomach all four slices so you and Jack split it.

The media had their speculations as to why Toto and Lewis had been rushing through the paddock but once they saw you snuggled up on the chair beside Toto, still very pale, they could guess what happened but they thought it was adorable seeing how the man would constantly glance away from the monitor to you and Jack to ensure you were okay, his hand stroking your hair away from your face every few minutes.

[moonstruckme]

hey mae! it’s been awhile since i’ve sent an ask but im always reading your work girl! i love how you write tbh. if you’re up to it do you think you could write something with poly marauders, where the reader has trouble eating and making themself eat due to poor appetite. my appetite really does come and go and ever since covid (maybe before) it’s like eating makes me feel revolted. sometimes i just don’t feel like eating bc of other things like depression, adhd, anxiety. i was just wondering if you could write something with the boys helping out the reader with finding out what sounds good, cooking, and eating if possible. sometimes having someone around to talk to and hang out with makes it so much easier to deal -🌶️

Hey Pepper, thank you sm! And thanks for being patient with me <3

cw: lack of appetite, mention of skipping meals

poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 1.1k words

The sun’s going down, the last dregs of its light spilling brilliant and golden over the book in your lap, and you can feel your boyfriends starting to get restless. Well, two of them. 

“If we’re missing half the ingredients,” Sirius says, trailing James into the kitchen, “it’s not going to be any good.” 

James only tsks. “Ye of little faith. That’s what improvisation is for.” He starts pulling things down from the cabinet. 

“You’re not even going to glance at the recipe?” 

“I don’t need to. I know the general vibe.” 

“Help!” Sirius calls towards the living room. “He’s gone off the rails. Remus, come fix it.” 

Remus turns around to look over the back of the sofa, his shoulder brushing yours as he does. He’s sitting right up against you despite the couch being empty, not that you mind. Remus is sort of like a cat that wants to be near you but not always to be pet. His touches are often like this, passive gestures like a hand on your head or his thigh pressed against yours. It works for you just fine; you can feel the affection bleeding into you from any point of contact. 

“Don’t you think we should just eat out?” Sirius asks, tilting his head and doing that thing with his eyes that you all pretend doesn’t work on you. 

Impressively, Remus keeps his face impassive. “I’m having leftover brussels sprouts,” he replies, “so it’s not really my concern. Anyway, James has a good history with not following recipes.” 

“Exactly,” James says, grinning at Sirius, who scowls. But then he fixes his gaze on Remus. “So why are you having that, Rem? Have what I’m making.” 

“Because they’re going to go bad, and I’m not hungry enough for a big meal.” The last part is said somewhat quieter, directed towards the living room as he turns back around and picks up his own book. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see James frown, but he glances at Sirius and they seem to collectively decide not to push it. Remus’ appetite isn’t much better than yours. He has his better days, but it’s not uncommon for him not to feel up to what your other boyfriends would consider a whole meal or to eat only chocolate until Sirius hounds him into something more substantial. 

James looks to you hopefully. “You’ll have some, won’t you sweetheart?” 

You wince, hating to let him down, and from the look on James’ face he clocks the guilt in your expression before even you get a chance to say, “I don’t think I’m really up to it tonight, either.” 

James deflates, but he’s clearly trying to put on a brave face. “That’s alright. I think I’ll just save it for another night, then.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, setting your book facedown on the armrest and turning around to face him more fully. “You could still make it and just put leftovers in the freezer. Maybe I’ll have some tomorrow.” You wince again as soon as you say it. No promises, though.

The smile James gives you is comforting if not totally satisfied. “It’s okay. I’ll just make it another time, it’s not a problem.” 

You return his smile, close-lipped. Sirius is looking at you with narrowed eyes, arms crossed like he’s sizing you up. 

“What are you going to eat?” he asks. 

“Hm?” 

“What are you going to have instead?” You hesitate, and he tilts his head knowingly, a piece of hair slipping from behind his ear to drape over his shoulder. “You need to have something, especially since you didn’t have lunch.” 

From the kitchen, James looks at you. “You didn’t?” 

“I just…don’t feel like it.” It’s a feeble argument even to your own ears, and the look Sirius gives you says that he thinks so, too. 

“You can’t miss two meals,” he says obstinately. “Even Remus is having some brussels sprouts.”

You look to Remus to be offended at the even Remus comment, but he only shrugs. You’re on your own. 

“What sounds good?” he asks you. 

You try not to pout. “Nothing. Everything sounds gross.” 

“C’mon, baby.” Sirius leans against the countertop. “It doesn’t have to be strictly dinner food, yeah? Just anything that sounds like you’d be willing to eat it.” 

You think for a minute. Remus touches the back of his hand to your leg, knuckles soothing over the skin beside your knee. 

“I guess…ice cream sounds okay,” you say hesitantly. “But I know that’s not exactly nutritious…” 

“Would a milkshake be close enough?” James pipes up. 

You shrug. “I guess.” 

He grins. “I can do that for you, love. Just gimme a sec.” 

James is a loud cook. You go back to your book while cabinet doors slam and the blender whirs and you hear a muffled “oh, shit” as something is undoubtedly dropped on the floor, but a minute later he’s bringing you a glass of something thick and chocolate-y looking. You smile at the added garnish of mint and a straw, reaching for it. 

“Thanks, Jamie.” 

He winks. “Anytime.” 

Remus is the only one courteous enough not to obviously watch while you take a sip, and you feel your eyebrows raise as you look up at James. 

“This is really good,” you say. He practically glows at the praise. “I didn’t even know we had chocolate ice cream.” 

Sirius barks a laugh, and James’ smile widens. 

“What?” you ask. 

“We don’t,” he admits. “Will it ruin your appetite if I tell you it’s not actually ice cream?” 

You shake your head, sucking at the straw. “I’m already drinking it, so.” 

James beams. He really is looking very proud of himself. “It’s a protein shake. A pretty balanced meal, actually.” 

“Nice!” You grin at him, taking another hearty slurp mostly because you know it’ll please him. “It’s perfect, thank you.” 

“Gotta keep our sweetheart fed,” he says, bending down for a kiss. Sirius and Remus’ hums of approval nearly harmonize, and you and James share an elated look while they both do their best to pretend like it didn’t happen. 

“Can I try?” Remus asks, and you tilt the cup towards him in invitation. 

He wraps his lips around your straw, sipping hesitantly. He looks mildly impressed. 

“Could you make me one of those too?” 

From the look on James’ face, he’d be delighted to. “Course, love.” He plants a smacker on Remus’ cheek and nearly knocks Sirius over as he beelines for the kitchen. 

“This is just excellent,” Sirius gripes, but you see the satisfaction in his expression. “Now that you two have blown up his ego, I’ll have to eat something he makes too.” 

“Correct,” James says brightly. “And you should be so lucky.” 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

We got each other (and that's a lot)

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 18

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Rated: M

CW: Violent imagery; aftermath of injury

Tags: Steve got vecna'd (he's okay, though); Angst; Trauma; Fluff

Notes: Continued from day 3. They'll be fine, they just need to kiss some and get a lot of therapy, probably.

Wanna see these soft, broken boys sleeping? Check out the heartwrenching art by @house-of-the-moving-image

Eddie drifts.

Inky blackness surrounds him like cotton, every sound, every thought muffled. His neck and fingers and arms still hurt, but it's the dull kind that comes with exhaustion, the tingle of adrenaline finally rushing from his body. Some distant part of him is still stirring, demanding that they stay alert … but the darkness is warm and soft and alluring as it pulls him under. 

Something cold touches his hand. 

Eddie flinches awake, heart kickstarting in his chest, fear zapping into his limbs like an electric current.

He fell asleep, he realizes, and the terror of it claws its way up his throat like a slimy, rotten tangle of vines. He fell asleep and when he opens his eyes it'll be to find Steve floating under the ceiling again, to find Steve's mangled corpse on the bed, eyes sucked from their sockets, face twisted in an eternal, grotesque scream, it's too late and he fell asleep, he fucking fell asleep while- 

Steve is awake. 

Steve is awake and he's looking at him and he's alive and his hand is lying on top of Eddie’s. It's cold and there's a needle in it from the IV cord and he's ghastly pale against the sheets, but he's smiling softly and he's alive, he's alive and Eddie wants to scream, to cry, to kiss him and never stop, to hold him and never let go-

"Hey," Steve whispers. 

"Hey," Eddie croaks. "You look like shit, man."

"Aw," says Steve, and the corners of his mouth twitch and Eddie thought he'd never see his smile again and shitshitshit don't cry, Munson, don't cry. "Thought I was pulling it off real well." 

He jerks his head in the general direction of the cast on his right leg, the one on his left arm. Eddie thinks he'll hear the sound of the bones breaking in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

"Typical," is what he says. "Half dead and still worried about your looks." 

Steve hums a not-quite-laugh. His fingers caress the back of Eddie’s hand. 

"Is he …?" 

"Dead," Eddie blurts. "For real this time. It's over." 

"The kids?" Steve's fingers twitch.

"Fine," Eddie says, watches how Steve's entire form sags with relief. "Buckley and Wheeler, too. And everyone else. It's over." 

"I- good." Steve screws his eyes shut, gulps. Draws a shuddering breath. "That's good." 

Eddie watches how his shoulders start shaking. Following a sudden impulse, he flips his hand and tangles his hand with Steve's, careful not to upset the needle. Steve blinks down at their entwined fingers. 

Eddie forces himself to smile and rambles on before either of them can question the gesture. 

"El was so fucking metal, you should've seen her. Like, the way she obliterated that douchebag? Remind me to never get on that girl's bad side! Seriously, man, I don't think any of us would be here if she hadn't-" 

"Well, I don't think I would be here …" says Steve. "... if it hadn't been for you." 

Eddie’s words barrel to a stop. Steve’s fingers tighten against his, trace the callouses on his hands. Steve’s smile is small and soft, but his eyes are serious, trained stubbornly on the ugly pattern of his hospital gown. 

"I thought you hated Bon Jovi." 

Eddie huffs. "Fuck, yeah, I do. Forcing me to besmirch my Sweetheart's strings with that mainstream shit? You owe me big time, man. Better start thinking of ways to pay me back."

"Yeah?" Steve raises their tangled hands lightly. "How's this for a start?" 

And then, before Eddie can even wonder what he's about to do, he ducks his head and presses a kiss to his knuckles. His lips are soft and warm. 

Eddie blinks. Waits for the world to stop spinning. 

"For … a start?" he repeats dumbly. 

Steve's eyebrow quirks. 

"Dude, I'd like to do so much more, but I'm glad I managed to lift your hand, to be honest. We should also first talk about stuff, I guess." 

"Oh," Eddie says intelligently. "You mean … like that thing you wanted to tell me?" 

"Yeah, like tha- … that thing." Steve needs to interrupt himself for a huge yawn halfway through. Since one of his arms is in a cast and the other hand is refusing to let go of Eddie’s, it ends up open-mouthed and adorable. "Probably'll have to sleep some more b'fore that, though …"

"Sure thing," Eddie is out of his chair and fussing with the pillow before he realizes what he's doing. Steve's eyes are already drooping as he helps him settle down. "I'll … I'll be outside, tell the others you're-" 

"Eddie?" Steve's grip around his wrist is light as a feather, but he still stops like he's been tethered in place. When he turns, there's fear swimming in those pretty eyes. "Stay? I don't … I'd rather not be alone." 

Eddie is back in his chair before Steve can finish the sentence. 

"Can you…" Steve's eyes are slipping shut again and his words are slurred, so that Eddie must lean closer to catch them. "D’you think you can sing? So I can find my way back, if- … Your voice is like light."

Eddie doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know if there's anything he could possibly say to that. So he says nothing. Just swallows around the lump in his throat and takes Steve's hand and starts singing softly. 

By the time Steve's breath evens out and his fingers go limp, Eddie’s other hand has found its way into his hair. 

Eddie keeps singing for a long while.

For as long as he's here, Steve will always have someone to guide him back.

Part 3

All my holiday drabbles

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

WAIT I LOVE THAT PUSHUP FIC. can you do one with Gaz and the reader daring him to say their name in between push-ups, and Gaz catches on, but does it anyways.

10 / 1,186 words / takes place immediately after doing push-ups with Gaz

...

You watch Gaz from the corner of your eye, listening to him say your name in that low voice with each rep, grunting with concentration. Music to your ears. 

His toned arms are tense with each push-up he executes. Gaz doesn’t work out to be buff or get attention. It’s all about function and utility on the battlefield for him, which means he’s not one for showing off. But you appreciate it, and you can tell he notices it by the smirk curving his lips.

He knows what you're doing. He knows exactly why you made that little request of him.

"You want me to keep going?" he asks. 

"I have no problem with that.”

"Can't imagine you would."

"Hey. Less talking; more counting reps."

"Did I say I was in the market for a personal trainer?"

"I think you did, in fact," you tell him facetiously. You're still sprawled over his back, admiring how your weight barely seems to affect him each time he lowers and then pushes himself back up. "Lucky you have me here to keep you on track."

"Yeah, lucky me." He grunts a laugh and does another pushup. "Because that's my problem. Staying on track."

"I hear a lot of chatter and not enough saying my name between reps, mm?"

"Think I'd better stop doing that. You like it too much."

"And you said you wanted a challenge. Do you cut corners in the field, too? Does Captain Price know?"

He lowers himself again and holds at the bottom for a moment to increase the tension and stress on his muscles. "You're asking for it, you know that?"

You smirk, shifting yourself a little to fit more snugly against the curve of his back. "Are you threatening me, Gaz?"

"You wish." He chuckles, hardly sounding as winded as he should. "You'd be lucky for me to pay you that much attention."

He's not wrong. But still, the nerve.

Luckily, you notice you haven't heard him counting aloud, either. "What rep are you on now?"

He pauses at the bottom of his rep, then lifts up again, not quite as fast as before. "Sixty-three."

"Liar. You lost count, didn't you?"

"Of course not. You think you're really that distracting?"

You grin. "You said it, not me."

He pauses his rep at its apex this time. You glance at him, sensing the gears turning in his head. For a second, you wonder if you should be proud of yourself--if you've struck him speechless with your blistering wit.

Then he bends his elbow and drops one shoulder almost to the floor, dumping you unceremoniously off his back. You land ungracefully on your stomach with a gasp.

There's a strange look in his eye. Thirst for vengeance. You scramble to right yourself, but it's too late. Gaz drags you off the ground like it's nothing and pulls your back to his chest. He wraps his much thicker arm around your bicep and leans back, forcing your arm over your head in what you vaguely recognize as a submission hold.

You huff, trying to squirm free. His other arm comes around across your midsection to keep you in place. The fact that you're pinned in his lap doesn't escape you.

"Now who’s the distracted one?" His voice is right at your ear. "You want to tell me again how many reps I did?"

"Fifty-five. I counted."

His grip tightens. He leans back just a little more, causing your back to arch. "Try again."

You grab his arm with your free hand and try to dislodge it. Its no good. His arms are like steel. He doesn't budge an inch. 

"Told you you were asking for it." His breath is warm on the shell of your ear. "Count again. Or I'll turn this half nelson into a full nelson."

Your cheeks warm. "Perv."

"You started it. Or don't you want me to say your name again?"

"I have a perfectly innocent explanation for that."

"Let's hear it, then. Go on."

"Um." You squirm a little more in his hold. His breath in your ear is making you feel crazy. "It's actually... because..."

"Because?" He's smiling now, his arm tightening against your skin. You can feel every thick muscle in his biceps and forearms. "Because what?"

You struggle to keep some kind of half-baked explanation centered in your mind. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't think about his chest pressing flush to your back. Or his thighs squishing your ass. Or his arm around your midsection, so close to your breasts you swear he'd brush the underside if he so much as flexed.

"Because what?" He asks again, and his voice is so husky it makes you forget all your rational thoughts. "Tell me."

"... Sixty-three," you mutter.

He laughs, the rumble of it shaking his chest against your back. "So which one of us lost count, boss?"

"I did."

"Yeah, you did." He shifts, easing the pressure on your arm. He doesn't release it completely, though. "If you wanted to hear my voice so bad, there are better ways to ask, yeah?" His other hand begins to wander down your side. Your skin burns under your workout tank. "But if you want to be a cheeky little brat about it..."

Before you can react, he bites down on your ear. Not cute and flirty, but hard enough that it hurts. Especially when you squawk and try to pull away.

"Ow!" You shove your elbow into his solar plexus.

He lets go of your arm, gasping and wheezing with laughter as he leans back. You're both surprised at how much force you packed into that elbow jab.

He smiles, though. His heart is racing from adrenaline, and when he looks at you, all pouty and out of breath, he realizes it's a good thing he's not still holding you or he might really do something stupid. He likes how quick you are, how feisty.

"That's mean," you snap.

"And calling me a pervert wasn't?"

"No! And even if it was, your thing was worse."

"Oh, yeah?" His usual soft grin turns roguish. "You wanna get even? Bite me back?"

"Gaz!"

"Then you still owe me." He stands up, stretching until his tired arm muscles pop. "So I'd better see you here tomorrow, same time. What do you say?"

You stand slowly, watching him grab his gym bag. "What if I say no?"

"I'd say you're shirking your duties as my trainer. And my counterweight. Besides, you wouldn't skip a chance to have me say your name again." He pulls the straps up over his shoulders and winks at you. "Right, boss?"

You open your mouth and close it right back up again.

Gaz has just enough self-control not to bite his lip at that rather cute expression. "Good."

He walks away, leaving you red-faced and speechless behind him.

He's right. You'll definitely be back tomorrow.

...

part 1 / [part 2] / part 3 / part 4 / part 5

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[medium-rare-bimbo]

Perv! Eddie munson x naive! Innocent! Reader

♡Smoking with Eddie <3

☆ if there are any spelling and grammar mistakes no there arent

♡masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

  contains: Dubcon, drugs, darkish! Eddie

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

When he invited you over to his trailer you first thought that he need extra help with his english work, which was true he did need help with his english work but that wasnt why he invited you over. He had noticed the interest you had expressed around getting high, it started off as innocent questions that he didnt think much of such as;

"why do people get high?" "do all drugs feel the same?" "Why do you do drugs?" And much more similar questions, eddie was heavily against it when he picked up your unsubtle questions however after some heavy thinking (and masturbating), maybe having you fuzzy and malleable was a good thing, if he was lucky he would get you so high you wouldnt remember the groping he'd do.

You had arrived to his trailer with your bag filled with school and revision work, you had been hesitant to knock afraid that he hadnt actually wanted you to come over and it was all a misunderstanding, overthinking on your part. fortunately for eddie you pushed aside the anxieties and knocked. Almost immediately eddie opened the door as if he was waiting for your knock, he quickly invited you into his room, sitting you on the bed, you begin to open your bag to pull out the equipment before he stopped you. "Actually.. I- uh I was thinking we could do that later y'know? Like let's- lets hang out for a little"

"Oh yeah sure! What do you have in mind?" You quickly closed your bag placing it near the end of his bed, looking up at him, you noticed the slight nervousness that radiated off him

"We can um- read some comics- just dont touch the ones you find under my bed or the ones in my bedside table they're- uh they're... limited addition? Yeah limited addition, definitely dont want anyone to touch them-" his voice cracks inbetween words as he desperately tries kick one of the "comics" in question under his bed "- o-or we can just talk.."

"I dont mind it if we just talk, i- I don't really like comics that much.. no offense or anything I'm sure they're great!"

Eddie released a breath he didnt know we was holding in and awkwardly sat on his bed next to you, glancing at you as the room became silent minus the low sound of his mixtape playing in the background.

"So um how is the hellfire going? I heard that will byers joined recently that must be fun h-hes a sweet kid I used to babysit him, sometimes I'd join in with the game but I never understood it-" your face turned hot as you spoke slightly embarrassed that you were saying this to the dungeon master himself "s-sometimes steve and Jonathan tried to join but they didn't know much either so it made me feel better about it. One time nancy joined and got so-"

He cut you off "are you close with Jonathan and steve?" His nose flared and hands clenched as he asked you

"I mean i guess- i-i um I used to babysit will and dustin and- and sometimes I still do so it's hard to not be close to them y-y'know?"

"Do you like them?"

"I- what of course I do they're my friends-"

"No- do you like LIKE them?"

You breathed in feeling exposed and vulnerable letting tears well in your eyes the thought if your fleeting crush being so visible mortified you "I- well I um- I used to have a small crush on both of them like a long time ago b-but I never tried anything! I dont like them anymore- I-" he placed his hand on your thigh

"Hey hey hey its okay I was only asking, I'd go for steve 'the hair' harrington too" he joked, quickly easing your nerves and calming you from the breakdown you were possibly about to have. Soon the conversation picked up and you both began talking about school, games, music, life and anything that crossed your mind. Eddie had seen the way you reacted to his questions and a part of him felt bad for upsetting you, he didnt mean to make you almost cry, he just wanted to know if he had any competition he didnt mean to embarrass you.

The conversation soon died down lulling you both in a comfortable silence, clearing his throat "do you um- do you mind if I smoke? I know you dont do that stuff so I just wanted to ask incase-"

Almost like a dog being asked to go on a walk your eyes lit up and you nodded your head cutting him off from his sentence "yes sure go ahead I dont mind i- this is your room"  Eddie exhaled and pushed himself near the wall of his bed, he sat snug in the corner and put his hand between the mattress and the wall pulling out a box containing his secret stash and various pre rolled blunts and joints, he had hid before you came thinking that seeing it would scare you off. he pulled out a joint looking at you for approval before lighting it, as he dragged the joint to his lips he took notice of your eyes following his movements, the way your pupils would dilate when he flicked his tongue out to dampen his lips.

He inhaled the drug, holding it in his lungs before exhaling away from you, he smirked as you watched the smoke crawl around the room. "D'ya wanna try it?" Your head whipped back to face him, you looked at him with wide eyes before trying to form a sentence that he could understand

"I've never done anything like that so- so I dont know how um I- think you should just- um just do it" you avoided his gaze that bore into you, he grabbed your hand and tugged you closer to him forcing you to shuffle to get closer to him , he placed the joint near your lips

"Its easy, all you gotta do is breathe in and breathe out-"

"Like breathing?"

"Exactly like breathing sweetheart" he smiled pushing it closer to your lips, your hand holding his trying to comfort yourself aswell as allowing yourself to push it away at any moment. You looked him in his eyes as you took a drag, holding back a groan he waited a moment for you to pull back and exhale. unfortunately when you did you immediately started choking on your breath, tears brewing in your eyes and falling as the coughing continued eddie chuckled and patted you on the back praising you despite your fail.

"You did so well for your first time, so good even if you did choke a little. How about we try again-"

You shook your head as soon as the words left his mouth "nuh uh, no. s'too hard hurt my chest" you said, voice wavering still trying to recover from the assault on your lungs. Eddie smiled and lay back patting his chest for you to lay on it, he took a drag and let you wiggle yourself across his bed, your leg straddled his thigh, tangling themselves with his. Sighing into his chest you breathed in his scent feeling better now that you had some comfort

Your head lay on his chest where he raised a hand to your hair and started to trace patterns and shapes into the side of your head gliding his fingers through the baby hairs along your neck and up the side of your cheeks, he pulled your head up and leaned down, you tried to back away not wanting to take advantage of his high state, as his lips were centimetres away from yours he blow his smoke into your mouth, this time you didnt choke. As he pulled back he looked at your large pupils and smiled "y'like that?" You didnt respond too awestruck with what had just occured, unconsciously dragging yourself forward to get closer to him.

Eddie took another drag, before repeating his actions, he didnt think it would take much to get you feeling warm, you were a virgin in this field and he was a prostitute. You lay your head back on his chest looking up at him with adoration, the drug clearly kicking in. Eddie began his plan and moved his free hand from your head taking his time to feel your body as he makes his way down to your thighs.

You melted as he pulled you closer forcing your clothed cunt to press against his thigh, taking this as a hint, he took a drag and blew the remnants into your mouth. Your hips, without your control, began rocking against his thigh making him groan under his breath, your eyes were half lidded and your hands were resting on his chest, "that feel good?"

You slowly nodded "makin' me all fuzzy" as you continued your grinding

"Yeah? You like it?" He cooed at you. pushing his leg up to meet your lazy thrusts, moaning, you dumbly nodded your hips jerking up against him trying to get release, something you've never had before. Eddie softly bounced his leg, forgetting about the joint and placing it on his table moving his hand to your hips, pulling you flushed against him, the other groped around your body feeling as much flesh as he could manage to get his hands on.

"Eddie feels s'good 'like it- f-feels nice w-want more"

"Yeah? M'not giving you enough? You're so greedy"

He pressed you down on his bulge, your clit knocking against the zipper of his pants causing you to jolt away from it as if it burnt you. Eddie forced you to stay put letting you sit up to look down at him, he let you continue your pathetic thrusts letting you get used to the feeling of direct contact to your clit before guiding you like before.

"Ah- eddie! Again!- w-wan' more"

You whined from above him as you could feel your orgasm build up, your panties were now soaked seeping into the material and ruining his pants. luckily eddie enjoyed that he could feel your juices against him, pulling you down harsher he bucked his hips against yours pushing you over the edge refusing to stop even when you cried that you coudlnt take it.

"S'too much eddie stop! S'too much feels weird don' like it eddie dont like it"

"Ssshh-shut up- shut the fuck up- oh god fuck- take it for me c'mon fucking take- make me feel good baby-"

Eddie was in heaven right now and hed be damned if he let your overstimulation ruin it for him. he continued to use you for his own purpose soon flipping you over so you lay under him, thrusting against your clothed pussy which was now soaked and puffy from his abuse. The sight beneath him was a sight for sore eyes. youre face soaked with tears, drool coating your lips, a light bucking of your hips, it pushed him over the edge forcing him to cum in his pants like he was a virgin.

His head fell into the side of your neck as he prolonged his orgasm, your legs flinching as he grazed over your clit once more. Desperate for comfort you moved your face to muzzle the side of his head, he tilted your face and kissed your drool coated lips "did s'good for me baby, so so soo good" eddie pulled you up turning you around and pressed you back against his chest, one of his hands resting on your spine and the other in your hair.

When you woke up the next day you were none the wiser on why you were laying on top of eddie or why your thighs were so sticky, you barely remembered last night but you assumed it had been good because eddie was smiley the entire day

"Was last night good? I dont remember"

"Oh absolutely you were so high, you'll get a higher tolerance as you get used to it we can do this again if you want" almost as if god was on his side you agreed

[ethansluvbot]

riding ethan for the first time please!!! love your writing btw<3

CRUEL SUMMER | SUB!ETHAN LANDRY

warnings: adult content, spoilers?, rough sex, riding, unprotected sex, and smut :)

an: i just got really sick randomly? anyways, i'm so so sorry for not posting in awhile. i just started a new school and even though its the end of the year its stressful. it also didn't help that i had horrible writers block. also, I've never written smut before so i will get better at this eventually! i'm binge watching the harry potter movies while eating soup now lol.

with a ton of convincing from sam, ethan and tara you decided to volunteer for a summer camp. sure, spending you day with kids had its downs, but you enjoyed seeing ethan interact with kids.

the kids screams filled your ears as you run to pick up their messes. the sticky hair didn't help your anxiety at all. you sat next to sam with your head on her shoulder.

"how did you convince me to do this shit?"

a quick slap hit your shoulder as you let out a yelp, "no cursing, there's kids around. plus you could never say no to ethan, it looks like he's enjoying it."

"i know. he's been going on about this since january.," you know ethan was a total soft guy, he never would harm a soul. it took him awhile but he finally convinced you to help out.

you both heard footsteps approach you, a sigh came out as you saw his shoes. immediately you jump up and wrap your arms around his neck.

"thank god you're here to save me from sam, she's trying to make me actually do something." he let out a chuckle as he waved to sam.

"im here to take you away," he smirked as you smiled back at sam. you heard her softly gagging beginning to walk away.

"hey! i missed you today, it seemed like you were having fun with your cabin."

"i was! i actually taught a kid how to swim today." you grabbed on to his hand. you loved this side of ethan the soft, dorky and funny side of him to be exact.

"umm, i was wondering where you see us in the future? i know we have a little until we finish college but it's been on my mind."

"well, to be exact i see us in well paying jobs, a modern family home and hopefully kids of our own." you felt his mood shift with that. you might've not been the most kid involved person, but it was great to know you would consider the idea.

you both stepped into the cabin immediately grabbing pajamas. you felt ethans shattered breath at your neck. turning around you slinked your arms around his torso.

"can i help you?"

"god- i want to kiss you so bad right now."

you gave in to ethans innocent act, attaching both of your lips. his cold hands found his way up your back as you moaned in surprise. he hummed in pleasure, kissing down your stomach.

you flip the two of you over, "i wanted to try something new if that's fine?"

he nodded intently, he trusted you with his life and knew you wouldn't do anything to hurt either of you. he's desperate to finally get you undressed as he tugs at your pants.

"someones needy," you tease unbuttoning your jean shorts. his hands explored your body, undoing your bra and throwing it to the side. ethan was already undressed by the time you turned around.

"lay down."

he threw his head back as you pushed yourself down onto his cock. you put your hand over his mouth being careful not to arouse any suspicion.

"will you be a good boy and be quiet?" he hummed in response, "words baby."

"yes, ill be good," he let a muffeled whined out.

you let your nails scratch down his abs as you begin to move. his fingers begin to trace circles on your clit as you bounce. you were still adjusting to his size but since ethan was so eager you began to move.

"don't stop," he lets an exaggerated sigh come out of his mouth. you grab his chin making him look at you. he keeps his hands on your hips as you trail kisses down his neck.

you rested your hands on his chest helping him move you. even without him speaking he could tell he enjoyed this greatly. you felt his hand kneed at your ass.

looking down you see his glossy eyes look up at you, "aw, poor baby. are you not getting enough attention."

you were almost using him for your own pleasure, which you felt bad but, oh did it feel so good. he was getting anxious as you felt him squirming.

you felt him thrust into you a few more times. you could feel his tenseness, only meaning that he was reaching his high. leaning down you planted a kiss onto his lips.

"oh fuck- i love you."

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Kissing Ace and Deuce when they ask what flavour your lip balm is

I write Reader/Yuu as female

Masterlist

ACE TRAPPOLA 

“Babe,” Ace groans for the twentieth time in the past two minutes, “pay attention to me.”

“Ace,” you give him a look that does little to hide your irritation as you swipe your lip balm across your lips, “can you please be quiet?”

“Come on, Y/N,” he whines, giving you a pout as he poked your shoulder, “I just wanna spend some time with my girl. Is that so wrong?”

You gave him a look as you secure your lip balm’s cap and placed it in your bag, “We are spending time together.”

“I mean doing something fun. Not studying like a bunch of nerds,” he complains, “when you invited me to Ramshackle I thought that we were going to have some us time without babysitting your annoying cat or Loosey Deucy.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “I do remember telling you that I was going to be studying for Professor Crewel’s test this Friday. It was your idea to join me. Besides, you haven’t even been studying for the past ten minutes. I don’t remember going over house of cards assembly in Alchemy class.”

“Excuse you, Prefect, I worked very hard on that. I don’t see why you need to study so hard anyways. You’re practically the top of our class.”

“That doesn’t mean that I should start getting lazy.”

“Seriously,” he sighs, “you’re starting to sound like Riddle. All I’m saying is that we should take a break for a while. I don’t see you going over your notes when you stopped to put on that lipstick of yours.”

“It’s not lipstick, it’s lip balm. And I put it on because my lips were drying up.”

“Huh, what flavour is it?”

You look at your boyfriend and glance down at the scribbles in his notebook. To his credit he did manage to get some studying done in the past forty-five minutes he had been sitting with you at your self-proclaimed study table so you supposed that it wouldn’t hurt to indulge him for a bit. With a cheeky smile, you look at him and ask, “do you really want to know?”

With a look of confusion on his face, he replied, “uh, yeah?”

You lean forwards and place your hands on either side of his face before bringing his head towards you. Tilting your head to the side, you press both of your lips together in a sweet kiss. 

When you pull away he immediately grabs the collar of your shirt and kisses you again with a mumble of, “I need to double check.”

And again, “I didn’t check it properly.”

“For good measure,” he winks at you with a smirk before licking his lips, positioning one hand at the nape of your neck and kissing you so roughly that you have to grip onto the edge of the table in front of you to avoid falling down on your back (though you know for a fact that Ace would never let you get hurt), your boyfriend’s mouth swallowing the embarrassing yelp you had let out. When he had eventually pulled away - since, apparently, oxygen was a thing - leaving the two of you panting slightly, he gives you a smug grin, “it’s strawberry.”

“Really?” you deadpan, “after all that, you still got it wrong.”

“Huh,” he looks at you confused, “what else could it be?”

“Cherry,” you state incredulously, “how can you not figure it out? I got it because it reminds me of you.”

That smug look is back, “really, Y/N? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’ve got feelings for me.”

“Trust me,” you retort, “even I don’t know why that is. My current guess is temporary insanity.”

“Whaa-hey!”

DEUCE SPADE

Reader is shorter/around the same height as Deuce

You snap your handheld compact mirror shut once you had finished applying your lip balm, the sound of its lid clicking into place catching the attention of your boyfriend, who had been replying to a text message from his mother. The two of you were on your way back to Ramshackle after you had waited for Deuce to finish his session of track and field club when his phone alerted him that his mother was checking up on him and ‘his pretty girlfriend’ much to his embarrassment and your amusement. He looked up from his phone to glance at you.

“What’s that?” he asks as you twisted the lid of your lip balm closed.

“Lip balm,” you reply, holding it up, “Vil’s been on my case about how dry my lips are so yesterday he gave me a set of these.”

“Oh,” he looked at the little yellow stick in your hand and noticed that there weren’t any labels on it, just a bunch of really small writing in black block letters on its side, “what flavour is it?”

You give him a smile, “why don’t you take a guess?”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion and before he could say anything else you had grabbed ahold of his tie and gently tugged him down before stepping up on your toes and placing your lips against his.

You can tell that he’s startled from the slight inhale he does and the way his body had tensed under your fingers, but then he immediately melts into the kiss, pressing his lips closer against yours. When you pull away, you let out a quiet laugh at the sight of his face trailing after yours, his wide cyan eyes stared at you as if he was completely entranced. A bashful rosy pink had spread across his nose and over his cheeks and ears as you beam at him.

“So,” you tease, “any ideas?”

“Um, uh,” he whispers to himself, his head tilted downwards. A contemplative look adorned his face before he looked back at yours, eyes shining with anticipation, “vanilla?”

“That’s right,” you say happily, patting his shoulder. Just as you had turned around and made a single step forwards but you felt his hand grasp your wrist and pull you back. You turned to look back at the boy next to you to see his flushed face smiling shyly at yours.

“Can,” he muttered softly, “can I have another taste, please?”

[evera-era]

heal me. (pt 3)

ellie williams x f!reader pt 1, pt 2

warnings: nervous/cutesy ellie, fluff, yearning, eventual kissing !!

a/n: no mentions of medic stuff this time bc i wanted reader to enjoy life outside of that. also i’m sorry for putting this off, i just wasn’t sure how i felt ab it </3 but here’s the final part !!

“Wow… you really do have the whole collection.” You murmur, lightly grazing your fingertips over the spines of Ellie’s comics.

It was the first time you had been to her house. Well… garage. She wasn’t exactly proud of it either, but it was homely.

“Pretty cool, huh?” She says, watching you. “I’ve probably read it about a dozen times already.”

You smiled, turning and looking at her over your shoulder. She shifts on her bed.

“Didn’t know you were a geek.”

“A- A geek?” She stutters, raising her eyebrows. “Wow, okay. Ouch.”

You both laughed, and you bit down on your lip. “It’s not a bad thing. Geeks are cute.”

You turned to look back at her bookshelf as Ellie’s face flushes. She knew you were flirting with her — it was obvious you were flirting with her — but she didn’t know what to do next.

“Mind if I read the second one while I’m here?” You ask, pulling the sandwiched comic out of its spot.

“Go for it,” She says, pulling her converse off her feet. “You can come sit over here. I mean — if, if you want.”

You grinned, spinning on your heel before plopping yourself on her bed. It was soft, and surprisingly comfy.

“Hey, this isn’t fair.”

“What?” She says, eyes widening.

“Your bed. It’s so nice,” You comment, looking up at her. “How do you just casually have the best bed, like, ever?”

The redhead laughs. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“I’m not even kidding,” You sigh. “God. I could sleep here forever.”

As you turn the page and begin reading, Ellie can’t help but look over at you. You were inches away from her, on her bed, in her bedroom. And you said you wanted to sleep next to her. It felt surreal.

She swears she could probably die happy right about now.

About ten minutes pass, and Ellie clears her throat. “So, uh, how are you liking it so far?”

“It’s really good,” You say, still holding the book up. “I think I could get into this series… if you’ll let me, of course.”

“Y-Yeah,” She says quickly. “Yeah, of course. Uh, whenever you want.”

You smiled gently before looking over at her.

“Hey, Ellie?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “Or… boyfriend? Sorry. Should’ve asked.”

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “G-Girlfriend. And uh, no, not currently.”

“So you’re seeing someone?” You question.

“No— No, sorry. I meant… that I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.” You say simply, before returning to the comic. Her head swarms as she tries to figure out your intentions.

Was that was your way of telling her you liked her? Shit, or were you just being friendly? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t wanna read into it wrong.

A few more minutes pass as she looks down at you. “Um… and you?”

“Huh?” You say, looking up from the book. “Me?”

“Y-Yeah. Do… you have someone?”

“No,” You say. “I’d be surprised if anyone even liked me. I mean… I’m not all that. But you? You get to go on patrol and look all badass and stuff.”

Ellie blushes, looking down at the ground. “You— you look good, too. Better. I meant… better.”

She wants to kick herself. Why does she sound so stupid when she wants to flirt back?

Nonetheless, you took the compliment with a smile. “Thanks, Ellie.”

Ellie gives a thin-lipped smile, desperately hoping she was better at putting her thoughts into words. And that she wasn’t a total dork.

The two of you had spent the next few hours in her room. The sun slowly began to lower in the sky, painting her window blinds a pale shade of gray. You had gone through two comics at most, as you had spent half of your time speaking to her instead of actually reading.

“Alright,” You nudged her knee. “It’s your turn to tell me a story.”

“Alright, alright.” She pauses. “I have a good one. It’s about my friend Jesse.”

“Okay. Shoot,” You reply, looking up at her.

You realized that you enjoyed watching her. More than anyone you had ever met.

There was a sparkle she got in her eyes when she was excited about something, and her nose would scrunch whenever she described something she didn’t like. It was cute and adorable and god, you wanted more of her.

“…And so while me and Dina were sledding, he slips and absolutely busts his ass.” At this point, Ellie’s smiling, making grand hand gestures as she explains.

“I’m talkin’ full on, face first into the fucking snow! It was hilarious, and—“

She notices your staring, and immediately clears her throat. “Uh... are— are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You say, pushing yourself up from the position you were laying in. You scoot closer, so you’re hovering over her face.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, looking into her eyes. When you’re met with silence, you close your eyes, mentally scolding yourself.

“Sorry… was that awkward?” You cover your face with your hands. “That was awkward, wasn’t it? N-Nevermind. I swear I was listening—“

For a moment, you were worried that maybe you had come on too strong. That just as you began to make a new friend, you had pushed her away, in a rather embarrassing manner. But your fears dissipate when you feel the warmth of her hands on yours.

She peels your hands away from your face, holding them gently. Her fingers were nimble, and rather coarse, but her touch is near electrifying.

“Please,” She whispers, barely audible. And before you have the chance to lean in, her lips have already hit yours.

Ellie’s kiss is desperate; it was something she had been wanting to do since she had first met you. And inside, she’s ecstatic, because she never thought you’d ask her to.

Her lips are warm, and encompassing, and her breath is shallow against your face. She goes slowly as to burn this memory into her brain.

When the two of you pull away, it’s quiet. You were worried if maybe you had changed the dynamic too quickly, but then she speaks.

“I… I really wanted that.” She says softly. You smile, nodding.

“Yeah. Me too.”

You turn your head away in an attempt to ease the fluttering in your chest. Ellie’s eyes are still on you, and she reaches out to brush a stray piece of hair away from your neck.

Your eyes land on the comic cover, and you laugh halfheartedly.

“I, um, barely finished it.” You utter. “The book.”

“Oh,” She says, raising her brows. “You… you can take some more with you, if you want. So you can read them.”

You shrug, looking back over at her.

“Or maybe I can just come back over here.” You add. “So I can read them with you?”

Ellie’s heart skips a beat, and she quickly nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s— great.”

You got up from her bed, putting the comics back. When you turn around, you press your lips together, looking off to the side.

“One condition, though.”

“Hm?” She says, looking back over at you.

“I come over as your girlfriend… not your friend.” You say shyly. “It’s my only rule.”

Ellie grins, standing up from the bed as well. She approaches you slowly.

“Well… you’re leaving as my girlfriend… aren’t you?”

“Am I?” You smile coyly, putting your arms around her neck. “This your way of asking me out?”

Ellie nods, face flushed. She thought it was cute, and a little funny, that you had casually assumed she went around kissing people she wasn’t into. She considered herself way too much of a loser to accomplish something like that.

You giggle a bit.

“Okay, then. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Her girlfriend. Her girl. Ellie can’t help but feel fuzzy at the thought of it.

It sounded good — it sounded right, rolling off of your tongue. She truly couldn’t wait to have you around her arm, walking with you around town.

Ellie doesn’t say anything else, merely smiles bashfully as you lean in to kiss her again.

And even though she couldn’t be sure of the future, she’s sure that in this moment, she wouldn’t wanna be with anyone else besides you.

[strawberryforks]

drunk fools to lovers // jj maybank x reader

summary: a drunken hookup has a bettering ending than anyone expected (terrible summary but i’m exhausted)

warnings: swearing, allusions to sex (nothing too crazy i still have no clue how to write smut), underaged drinking

word count: 1098

the first thing that registered in your mind was that the light was too bright and someone needed to shut it off. the hand you draped over your eyes was reflex just like what you shouted, when hands started pounding against your door, trying to knock it down or at the very least get your attention—which they had. “shut the fuck up!” you screamed in response. your head was throbbing, mind lagging behind, and thoughts still suspended in whatever liquid you’d drank way too much of the night before. fuck, you felt like you were the door. “jesus! alright, alright, i’m coming,” you groaned and shoved at the comforter. it wouldn’t budge. you kicked a bit, winding your legs up, because they were trapped. trapped under a blanket, trapped—someone groaned.

awareness returned, your hand stopped covering your eyes. fingers kneaded into the mattress as you pushed yourself up, bending at the stomach. you looked down at yourself first—missing your bra and no doubt panties, and with a boy in your bed, quite literally on top of you. it wasn’t the forst time this had happened and probably wouldn’t be the last, but the embarrassment slammed into you like a wave anyways. the kind that would knock you from your board and bully you underwater for awhile… fuck, you weren’t proud, but this was… it was manageable. the knocking never ceased but you were getting used to the pounding. if the door didn’t break becore you figured out what mistake you’d taken home with you, you’d be fine. john b was a protective bastard but he wouldn’t have to know. push the nameless one-night-stand out your window and be done with it. yeah, that would work.

looking down at the mess of blonde hair, you prod the boy. your eyes are still blurry, your head still hurts but unfortunately, the light you need turned off is the fucking sun, and you’ll have to deal with it for another 12 hours. “hey,” you whisper. “hey. wake up. you gotta go.”

the figure who’s figure you take the time to admire groans again. ringed fingers swipe through their hair, messing it further, as you shove harder. “my brother’s going to kill you if you don’t get out of here. kill, as in… murder.” there’s not many other ways you can explain this but the boy seems to finally understand. he startled, and when he lifted his head up, your eyes met and fuck. woah, okay. it was jj. jj maybank.

your jj. your brother’s bestfriend jj. that jj.

your brother really was going to kill him.

now you’re panicking.

“y/n i swear! let me in or i will kick down this door!” your brother threatens.

“i’m fine john, shit! give me a minute to get dressed!” you’re staring at your brother’s bestfriend with wide eyes but at least you’re not lying. you get up, scramble to put on an oversized t-shirt, and make crazy gestures with your hands.

jj, like you, is freaking out. he’s slipping on his shirt, putting on his boxers and then jumping into a pair of sweats. he looks good, really good, and your tongue darts out to wet your lip. you can see how this happened—what you can’t see is where to go from here. “oh my god oh my god.”

you’re nodding, agreeing, because this is crazy and unexpected and you’re not sure that either of you remember what went down last night. goddamn keggers.

“the window!” you’re whisper-hissing, helping him hoist it open and holding it that way as he crawls out. “we’ll talk about this,” he tells you while you all but chant “go, go, go.”

then you’ve got to open the door. to face the music. “hey john… couldn’t have been a bit quieter?”

“its lunch time, y/n/n.” he peers around you, into your room, as if not truly believing your alone and okay. “and you were wasted last night. i had to make sure you weren’t lying dead in a puddle of vomit”

“yeah, yeah. you’re not one to shirk your brotherly duties. did you happen to make breakfast?”

“eggs and bacon, plus, i made you some of that vitamin c drink you swear by.”

“you’re the best,”

“i know.”

john b leaves, he and jj hangout, as always, and then, a few hours later all of the pogues are meeting up to go surfing. john b, kie, and pope are in the water while you’re hanging back on the beach. jj jogs over to you—he’s been trying to find an opening to talk to you and now is as good as any. unfortunately for him, you’ve had hours to overthink. hours and hours to myll over the fact that you finally slept with your crush and didn’t even remember it aside from some day-after-aching. you’ve had hours to agonize over the fact that he doesn’t want you, doesn’t remember you, and probably can’t stand to be around you anymore. after all, you had to have embarrassed yourself. drunkenly professed your love or something crazy.

“jay i’m so so sorry.” you rush out, “that was a mistake, a drunk mistake, and we can pretend that nothing happened—no one has to know and i swear i won’t tell my brother.” your words spill everywhere, fast and full of panic. you can’t lose a friend and you can’t make things awkward withing the group. no-pogue-on-pogue-macking was like, the one rule, and you went and broke it.

jj isn’t wearing a shirt and that isn’t good because having this conversation, you need to focus on his face, how he’s reacting, and responding. his arms are crossed over his chest and he doesn’t look mad—he looks confused, maybe? worried? “is that what you want?”

“is that what i want?” you echo

“because it’s not what i want, but i can respect it, if you’re sure. i’ll have made an ass out of myself because i spent the afternoon begging john b to let me take you out on a date—“

“we’re going on a date? you asked john? for permission?”

jj smiles, almost shyly, and palms the back of his neck. “it felt like the right thing to do.”

you laugh, smile lightning up the sky, and brightening his entire day. “jesus jj, we’re going on a date, not getting married.”

he wraps you in his arms, hugs you tight. his hands are on your lower back, yours are wrapped around his neck, one threaded through his hair, “but we will someday.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. the most sure about anything i’ve ever been.”

[naompspsps]

How they would act when you fall asleep on their shoulder Pt. 6

Part 5 (Leona, Kalim & Ace)

Summary: You had a long morning, and you didn't even get enough sleep so now you are very tired, But sitting with them in the courtyard during lunch break, while they talk you find yourself falling asleep, your head on their shoulder.

Ft. Ortho, Deuce & Jade x GN!Reader [Seperate]

A/n: dear me i had a crisis whether i should add ortho or not, but look at me, i did it anyways! you can think of his part as romance (if you're even allowed to do that) Or platonic because its either :▶

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

Ortho

His only best efforts he can do is stay still and try not to shift positions alot. He has to ask multiple times if you are really feeling okay and not uncomfy, But since you told him you seriously won't feel anything, He decided to stay still. Probably hums you a lullaby.

As you fall asleep, He looks at you, Even scans you, Double check if you're asleep before going on using the internet just at his fingertips. Who knows, He might be texting everyone about you, positively. Afterall, He's a happi boy :]

You nod at every story he tells you all about his life. How does he know these childhood things as a robot? You will never know.. But you gotta admit, the stories are interesting. You took off your jacket, folding it into a pillow. You place the folded jacket on Ortho's shoulder. You lay the side of your head onto it, Your arms taking Ortho's arm in an embrace. Your actions made Ortho stop speaking, blankly staring at you for a few seconds. "Eh? What's wrong?" He asks. "..Keep talking, Orthy.. I'm just getting comfortable." You mutter under your breath. Ortho doesn't look pleased with your answer, Because he can tell you were lying. "You don't need to tell me." He chuckles kindly with a hint of mischief in it. Your eyes were closed but your ears were focused on him, when You suddenly hear a scanning noise which causes you to sit back up and look at him scanning you. "Hmm, You are... Tired? And stress??" He asks himself.

You grumble incoherent curses at him, Who lightly pulls your head back on his shoulder. "Well You could've just said so!" He says with pure enthusiasm. "Orthy, No.. I wanna keep listening.." You mumble sadly. Without being affected by your sulkings, Ortho shakes his head. "Nope, You listen to it later but I say you sleep!" You sigh, Yawning after that. "Fine!" You agree. Ortho helps you fall asleep easier by humming you a lullaby his brother once did to his human self. Just when you are sleeping, Ortho checks on you, Scanning you, double the better. "Asleep.." He whispers to himself, "Good- You need it badly." He sighs in relief. Thank sevens you're already sleeping, you must be so tired.. He sways his fingers in air, A magical program appearing infront of him as he uses it to wait for you to wake up.

Deuce

We all know he's trying his best to change, he was a delinquent so who's there to say that he knows what he's doing? No way he used to let people rest on him when he was a delinquent. That's just impossible mate.

He doesn't how to do this, so he just sticks with the basics. Though the more you sleep on him the more he gets used to it and start to like it. He would think it isn't really that bad anymore and get used to it. Still not knowing his next moves, but it's not like you mind, you're literally dead asleep on him.

You and Deuce are studying for the next lesson, You don't know this.. Damnit, Another all nighter. As the shade of the tree hides you both from the sun, you yawn softly. Deuce looks at you. "Sleepy?" He asks. You sigh tiredly, leaning your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes. "Hey, What are you-" He couldn't even finish what he said, because you're already asleep. He closes the book and place it beside him, thinking of what to do. He never even experienced these kinds of things, how should he do this..

Deciding to be brave, Deuce pats your head softly, only to feel his heart soften when you rub your head against his shoulder like a cat striving for attention. "Aw.." He says in a low voice. "On second thought, This actually feels good." He adds, Rubbing your head with his hand. You tug on the ends of his blazer, snoring quietly. He spots your pen, hanging on your ear. He gently takes it, putting it on the ground. Deuce still isn't aware of what he should do next, but the best he can do is just rest aswell. He closes his eyes. "Hah.. Let's just do the assignment together later.. Let's just.. Rest.." He mumbles.

Jade

Jade is that type to know your current conditions, But won't ask if you need help, instead, You'll be the one asking instead. He expects you to already ask him to be a pillow. He sees you at the hallway, almost tripping and falling, he already knows. He's just waiting for you to ask for help from him.

So the moment you ask if you can lean on his shoulder to take a short nap he'll probably let you lay on his lap. Like It might be more comfy on my lap and he was meant to do that purposely. To make you sleep on his lap, if anything he might just hypnotize you to do so.

You watch Jade read a book. You thought about telling him. He won't mind.. Right? You lean your forehead against his shoulder, his attention switches to you. "What seems to be the matter?" He asks, You can hear the excitement in his voice, probably just you. "Mm.. Let me rest on you for a while.. Please." You plead him, He expected you to ask him but he didn't expect the plead. Jade chuckles lowly. "You can, but why don't you rest on my lap? It must be uncomfortable sleeping like this."

"But you're reading something.." You slowly get back up. Jade lifts his book up to read closely. "There, You may rest on my lap now." You exhale lightly. "Fine.." You mumble, resting your head on his lap, He's smiling at you, but in the inside he's having a victory dance. You start to relax as you close your eyed and sleep. Jade runs his fingers through your hair, "Sleep well." He whispers to you.

Author's End note: Still happy I got vil :▶

! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !

[jlepixie]

Hey I was wondering if you could please do a story where either 2008 bill or Tom have their first time with Reader who is innocent I’ve recently have been reading your story’s and I think they are really good btw :))

hi love! yes of course I can, thank you for the request and I really hope its how you expected. I decided to make a short story for both of them separately, and thank you so much, im still improving and I really appreciate every one of you, thank you again🤍

╰ ୨ Bill Kaulitz ୧ ╯

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚.

The date was like every other dates you two had, special and romantic, but this time you knew he was taking you to his hotel room for a reason. That reason made you fidgeting with your fingers on the passenger seat, not daring to look anywhere else besides your lap. Bill noticed that you were deep in thoughts since you didn't noticed the waiters back at the restaurant. He didn't knew what do to, so he decided that putting his hand on your thighs and a comforting smile would do it for now.

"Here you go my love" Bill's soft voice echoed in hallway opening the door for you. Not a second wasted, Bill gently tangled his fingers with you before he captured your mouth with his. What started as an innocent kiss, quickly heated up. Your heart was going harder than drums as Bill swept his tongue between your lips, tasting and teasing. You were so lost in heat and your own thoughts, you didn't notice you'd moved until Bill pushed you on the bed.

Bill took a moment to admire you from atop, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "Let's try something new" He knew you didn't had experience at all before getting together, and that made him love you more. Bill brushed his lips over yours and reached down to explore the most intimate folds of yours. You two had tried multiple times to bring you over the finish line, but due to your nervousness, those times were to no avail.

He took one of your hands into his, to guide it down to replace his own. "Touch yourself for me" Your cheeks turned a dark red "I can't." "You can. You said you can come when you do it on your own. Show me so that I know how to please you." Your pulse raced with nerves and arousal. For some reason you didn't wanted to look away, just the image of Bill in front of you was better than any porn you ever watched. You stayed focused on your own body as it hummed in pleasure while touching yourself. Your breath hitched as the moves you were making grew faster, jerkier. You were so close. Your lashes fluttered as to your own surprise, your orgasm slammed through your whole body. "Oh my god" you gasped. You were still recovering from the sensation you just had, that you didn't realised Bill had moved. Every inch of you was on fire. Truly speaking, your first orgasm in front of Bill made you relax a lot, and now all you could think of is how bad you wanted him being inside you.

Bill was already hard, how could he not. He just watched his girlfriend bringing herself to a climax. It didn't look long until he slowly entered you. "Are you ok?" You arched your back in pain and pleasure. "Yes, keep going" You wrapped your arms around his neck to bring him into a kiss. Bill's initial thrusts were slow, worried to not hurt you, but he couldn't resist how good he was filling you. There was only you and Bill, finally being a one. You moved your hips in the same rhythm with him. Bill groaned, hid thrusts were growing faster, harder. You were reaching once again your climax but now you weren't the only one. "Fuck, babe" You two poured everything you build this past months, you crashed over the edge first, Bill followed you soon after, your cries of ecstasy were hearing in the whole room, probably the other members of the band could hear you, but that didn't matter. All that was important for now, were only your two as you collapsed into each other's arms.

╰ ୨ Tom Kaulitz ୧ ╯

༶⋆˙⊹｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ ✩ ˛˚.

Getting together with Tom, was a surprise. Knowing his history with girls, obviously made you nervous. Yes, you were beautiful, the guys from the band always complimented you, but you didn't had the experience of those girls Tom used to do. Last night, when you told Tom how unsure and insecure about your relationship you are, he gave you a hurt look and closed himself in the hotel room. Your main reason of that confession wasn't to distance yourself, you just wanted him to know that you are more or less scared that he wouldn't like how you are in bed.

"Tom?" you knocked on his door hoping for him to show up "Tom, lets talk about it, please" footsteps were heard on the other side of the door. Tom let you in without saying anything. The silent was killing you, that was until he said "I apologise for being distant last night, but I need you to understand that you thinking that I may be with you only for sex is killing me inside" Tom took a small pause and came closer to you "I need you to understand that you are the only girl I love, and I would wait for you to be ready, even if it takes years"

His words were burning into your brain "Oh Tom" you gently placed your hands on his cheeks, bringing him close for a soft kiss. "Im sorry, I love you too Tom" you breathe out, your stomach is on fire with excitement for him. "I need you to know that im ready for you" "Are you sure? I don't want to make you feel forced" one of your cute giggles came out "Yes Tom, this was the main reason of my talk" Tom placed a last soft kiss to your lips before slipping your stretchable dress over your head. That look of hunger in his eyes mixed with a bit of innocence and sorry drove you crazy.

When your dress is off completely, he places his tongue onto your nipple, teasing it with delicacy. He moves his mouth back and forth between your breasts, giving special attention to both of them. You gasp harshly when he grazes his teeth lightly over your hard nipples, sucking them with an exhilarating popping sound that slides off of his tongue.

“You’re so sweet,” he whispers. Leading you to the bed Tom turns you over on your back onto it, laying a pillow behind your head for support. “Shit. You’re soaked, huh?” Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him taking your underwear to the side, using his thumb to rub your clit tenderly. You blush hard at the sensation.

"Don't worry love, I will make you feel good"

© 2023 jlepixie.  ─  please do not copy,  repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission. 

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Does absence make the heart grow fonder or more frustrated? You and Bradley aren't quite sure where you stand with each other, and you're both apprehensive about how it will feel to open up communication again. And while it's hard for you to stop blaming yourself, Bradley is becoming aware of all the ways he hasn't done enough.

Warnings: Angst, swearing

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley picked at his dinner for the third night in a row. He sat between Nat and Bob, and both of them clearly knew something was wrong. But Bradley hadn't been able to talk about it. What was he supposed to say, anyway? Admit that he had been acting like sex with his wife was a chore? Tell them that he had made you cry the night you got promoted? Disclose that you had slept on the bathroom floor to get away from him? Announce he was that asshole who got his sperm tested without telling you?

As if that wasn't enough, Bradley could still hear the hurt in your voice when you yelled at him about the test results in the kitchen at home. The memory of it caused him a physical pain in his chest. It was an ache that he knew would be there until you spoke to him again. If you spoke to him again. 

"Pass the salt?" Bob asked softly, and Bradley did it automatically and without any emotion. It wasn't Bob's fault that things went down so badly at home. And it wasn't Nat's fault either. But he could barely look at them or talk to them, and he knew he was going to need to start. Because whatever this mission brought, all of them would be doomed with Bradley in this kind of headspace. 

He cleared his throat and said, "This meatloaf is pretty good."

"It's okay," Nat replied. "Nothing's as good as what your wife makes. Think you can talk her into another dinner party when we get home?"

He could only grunt in response before he had to cover his eyes with one hand. 

"Hey," Nat whispered, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "You're kind of scaring us, Soul Sister. Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Not in the middle of the mess hall, but thanks, Nat."

"Maybe later? We can sit in the lounge and eat all the candy I brought."

Bradley had to close his eyes against the pain he felt over being an inadequate husband. But he loved his best friend, and he knew he'd probably feel better if he confided in her. "I'll think about it."

Just when he started poking at his dinner again, three young aviators sat down on the other side the table, the biggest one directly across from Bradley. "Hey, old timers," he said in an annoying accent that immediately reminded him of Jake. So these must be the young recruits out of Lemoore. The hotshots that all the admirals were talking about. Bradley just wanted to poke at his food and think about his wife. He didn't really feel like babysitting right now. 

"Hi," Bob responded cheerily, and the three of them laughed. Bradley wanted to tell Bob not to engage with them, but it was too late. The big one, who introduced himself as Slayer, was subtly making fun of Bob's glasses, and Bradley's nerves were already too frayed. 

"Hey, Nat, how about we hang out in the lounge now," he said as he stood with his mostly uneaten tray of dinner. Bradley was exhausted, all he wanted was to be able to fix things with you, and training was starting early tomorrow morning. And he needed to get away from these morons as soon as possible. 

Nat and Bob stood, and followed him to get rid of their trash and trays. "I didn't think you'd actually take me up on my offer so soon. Usually you need a full week to stew in your feelings before you say anything."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I didn't like the way Slayer was talking to Bob. You know he was making fun of you right? He literally said he'd never fly with a WSO in glasses," he said. 

"Oh. Yeah. I know," Bob replied in an even tone. "Doesn't much matter. I don't have to fly with him. I get to fly with Phoenix. And I always pass my eye exams."

Bradley was in a constant state of inner panic right now. He didn't understand how his two friends could be as calm as they were. Nat was listing off all the candy she had brought with her while Bob nodded placidly and told her that Starbursts were his guilty pleasure. Meanwhile Bradley couldn't decide if he wanted to cry or jump into the ocean. When he thought about you back at home in the craftsman with Tramp, it was hard for him to breathe. You were forgiving, patient and caring, but he wasn't so sure he deserved any of those things from you right now. 

The three of them stopped by Nat's bunk to get some of the candy, but after Bob snagged a few Starbursts, he turned away from the lounge.

"You're not coming?" Nat asked. 

"Nah," Bob replied as he unwrapped a candy. "I'll turn in early. Good night."

Bradley just shook his head. Even though he'd be up all night, typing up email drafts to you on his phone without any wi-fi, at least Bob didn't snore. So he could be miserable in his bed with some peace and quiet. 

"Come on," Nat told him, wrapping her smaller hand around the crook of his elbow and guiding him down the dim, gray corridor toward the lounge. "You'll feel better after we talk."

"I don't know," he replied, swallowing past the pain he felt. When he got into the lounge, he flopped down on his back on the narrow couch, leaving a tiny bit of room for Nat to sit next to his head. "I fucked up."

"I'm assuming by just how fucking miserable you look that something happened with your wife?" She opened a package of Twizzlers and handed him a few strands. 

"We were trying to have a baby," he said softly as he spun the silicone ring around on his finger. It felt weird. It looked weird. He didn't really like it. He missed his gold band that he left at home with you. But this one would be safer; that's why he ordered it with all of his deployment supplies from Amazon. And if anything happened to him, you'd at least have his wedding ring. 

"Yeah," Nat replied, shoving some gummy worms into her mouth. "I know. You already told me that. You're glued to your wife most of the time anyway. If you have a baby, you'll be insufferable." 

"I don't know if she'll let me touch her again let alone have sex."

She paused with more worms in her hand and looked down at him. "Bradshaw, what the hell did you do?"

He rubbed his hand over his face and took a deep breath. "I think I put too much pressure on her. On both of us. We've been trying for five cycles, and I know when her period is due and when she's ovulating...and I realize how bad that sounds when I say it out loud. Because yeah...I kept talking about it nonstop at home. I ruined her fucking promotion night, Nat."

"Oh," she whispered. "You made her feel like she only serves one purpose for you."

"Fuck," he moaned, covering his eyes with his bicep, his��Baby Girl paper airplane tattoo pressed to his face. Nat was completely right. In one short sentence, she put all of his wild, rambling thoughts into perspective for him. That was exactly what he had been doing. And when he thought he was being helpful, all he was really doing was reminding you of what wasn't happening. "Nat, I had my sperm tested, and I didn't tell her. She found the paperwork with the results."

She gasped, and he immediately felt a million times worse. He had disappointed his wife, and now his best friend was disgusted with him on your behalf. "Why?" she demanded, tossing the candy bags aside and tugging on him until he was sitting up. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"Fuck, Nat. I thought it would be helpful information to have, you know? If there was something wrong with me, then we could talk to a doctor right away."

"There's nothing wrong with you, is there?" she asked in a monotone voice.

"No," he replied softly, looking at the floor. "And then I didn't want to tell her about it. But she saw the paper, and she blamed herself for everything. Which I somehow knew was exactly what was going to happen. And I should have just fucking told her I was thinking about getting the testing done!"

When he turned to look at his best friend, her eyes looked sad, and her lips were set in a frown. "Oh, Rooster. You're such an idiot."

"I know that!" he snapped back. "I don't need you to say it!"

"Yes, you do," she replied calmly. "You need me to say it. You should have come to me with this weeks ago. Next time you have a dumbass thought, like how you're going to jerk off into a cup and not tell your wife about it, you come talk to me. We'll sort it out."

"I don't know how to fix this. We could barely even look at each other when I left." He closed his eyes and added, "And now I'm here, and she's there."

"What's more important to you? Having a child or loving your wife?"

Whether or not Nat really needed to hear what his answer to that question was, the words made him so physically sick, he had to stand up and walk around the room. "If she's not happy, then nothing else matters," he managed around the tightness in his throat. "It's not worth it. Nothing else is worth it if she's not happy with me."

"Then I think you need to start with that and work from there," Nat told him, standing and wrapping him in a hug.

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

You skipped work on Monday. You didn't call in. You didn't tell anyone. You just didn't go. You just stayed in bed most of the day with Bradley's wedding ring and a sinking feeling in your heart. Your parents called you on Monday night, probably to see how you were doing without Bradley at home, but you couldn't answer their call. And you weren't honestly sure if things were better or worse without him here. All you knew was you didn't want to go back to work, because you couldn't stop crying. 

But on Tuesday morning, you felt more angry than sad, and that seemed to be the motivation you needed to take a shower. You vigorously scrubbed at your Rooster tattoo until the skin felt fresh and raw. Then you dressed in your uniform and headed out. You hadn't eaten anything since before Bradley left, but it didn't matter. 

You couldn't even decide if you wanted to talk to him or not. He could call you tomorrow, or it could be weeks before you heard from him. But you kept your phone on you just like you always did when he was away. The sickening feeling of what if washed over you. What if something happened, and they needed to reach you. What if Bradley was injured again. What if you never got a chance to talk to him again.

As you made your way to your lab, you already had tears in your eyes. By shutting each other out, you and your husband had only made things worse. You had to stop thinking about him. He probably wasn't even thinking about you at all. His goodbye speech was echoing in your mind, and you could just picture his ring on your nightstand. 

"Fuck," you croaked as you sat down in your usual seat. You thought you were alone, but then you heard Cat's voice behind you.

"Something wrong?"

"No," you muttered, wiping at your eyes. "I'm fine." You didn't even bother to turn and face her, but a second later, she was pulling her chair closer to you than she normally sat. Great. "I told you I was fine."

"Yeah," she replied casually. "And I heard you. But you're terrible at lying. You're too nice to be able to pull it off. Where were you yesterday?"

You stared straight ahead and took a few deep breaths. You weren't feeling particularly nice these days, and you weren't too fond of the way Cat had been treating Jake. Your heart rate was up. The desire to hurt someone, to make them feel miserable like you did, was pulsing through your body. 

"You know what, Cat?" you asked, turning in your seat to face her. You got to watch her neutral expression melt away as you said, "Maybe we should cut the shit."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, very subtly moving away from you. That should have been you cue to cool yourself down, but you just couldn't. 

"I'm talking about the way you're treating Jake like he's trash. Did you make out with him in secret again yesterday? Turn him down for another date?"

"I can't go out with him," she snapped back. "I can't have him around Jeremiah. He's exactly like what I left behind in Maryland."

"You like him!" you nearly shouted. 

"Of course I do," she replied, dark eyes flashing. "But not seriously. He'd be a terrible fit for me now. He's a womanizer. I know he's your friend, but why can't you see that?"

"He wants to change! And he'd probably just adore Jeremiah!" you insisted with narrowed eyes. "For some unknown reason, he really likes you, even though you and your Uncle Hondo are putting him through the fucking ringer!"

Your fists were clenched, and it felt so good to be upset about something other than your relationship with Bradley. But you watched Cat's expression turn to panic. 

"You know about Hondo?" she asked softly. 

You laughed darkly. "Are you referring to the fact that he's your uncle? Or that he's been giving Jake extra push ups and laps around the hangars as extra punishments for weeks now?"

Her lips parted, and she looked like she was going to be sick. "He saw us. He must have."

"Yeah, no shit. I saw you, too, remember? You're not doing a very good job of hiding the fact that you think Jake is good enough for you to lead him on physically but not good enough to have dinner with him."

"Uncle Bernie is trying to scare Jake away. Because Jake is exactly like Chris, and he doesn't want me to get hurt again. I didn't know-" she started, but you cut her off. 

"Well now you do. And if you truly don't give a flying fuck about Jake, then let him rot out there on the tarmac, doing a million extra push ups every day instead of eating lunch. But if you care about him even a little bit, please stop leading him on. Just tell him you're not going to date him once and for all, and tell Hondo to knock it off!"

Cat turned toward her computer and went silent for the rest of the morning. Which was fine with you. There was a lot to catch up on since you skipped work yesterday. There was no point in going to lunch since Bradley was gone. And if you did go, you'd just end up arguing with Jake. So instead you pretended to do some work while you thought about how many things needed to change between you and Bradley until you made yourself nauseous. 

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

"Before we get started today, I'd like to just take a moment to point out that our fresh recruits from Lemoore have been doing an excellent job both in the air and in the classroom," Admiral Dean announced to the room full of aviators. Bradley rolled his eyes as Slayer and his buddies sat up a little straighter. "You're really earning the spotlight," he told them before continuing with some of the mission details. 

Admiral Dean had been showing favoritism to the group from Lemoore all week, and Bradley cringed knowing he had seven more weeks of this to go. He didn't want to be here. His mind kept wandering back to San Diego. Back to you. 

After a week away, he didn't even know where you and he stood. He felt numb. Desensitized. Almost like nothing could hurt him or fix him except you. Were you sleeping and eating well? Were you worried about him? Was there any way you could forgive him for the way he'd behaved and the things he'd said? Did you even want to?

It was a good thing he already had these mission parameters memorized; two teams would be working in tandem to eliminate a communications tower and a newly constructed military base. He knew it by heart, and now all he could think about was what he wanted to tell you if you accepted a call from him. He'd been talking to Nat all week, and it was clear to Bradley now that you should be his top priority. Not a baby, not having sex to try to get pregnant. Just you. 

But there was so much he wanted to say to you, and he was afraid he was going to stumble over his words and just make things worse. It could be another week or two before he was allowed access to an iPad anyway. He'd put his name in to try to get chosen for an early FaceTime slot, but there were no guarantees. 

"Bradshaw, Trace, Floyd," barked Admiral Dean. "Get out to your aircrafts to run some practice formations. And try to keep up with the rest."

"Yes, sir," Bradley managed to say with a perfect salute when really all we wanted to do was flip this guy the bird and then hijack an iPad for the rest of the day. 

"You look so distracted," Nat whispered as they exited the classroom. 

"I just need to talk to her," he replied softly. "If I can just have a real conversation with her and tell her how I feel, I think I'll be able to focus."

She nodded. "I know. I already told you that if I get selected first, you can trade time slots with me."

He just nodded, because the tightness in his throat made him more than a little nervous for how he was about to perform in the air for Admiral Dean and the other officers. Once they were all out on deck, the sun was way too hot, and Bradley could feel the sweat trickling down his back. He handed his helmet to Nat for a second so he could remove his silicone ring and wipe the sweat from his hand. 

"Whoa, wait. Are you two old timers married to each other?" asked Slayer's large and annoying buddy. From the font emblazoned across his helmet, his call sign was Charmer. Oh, the irony.

"No, dumbass," Nat replied coolly. "Flying together would be disallowed according to the misconduct handbook."

Charmer looked confused by her words, and Bradley wanted to laugh. But now Slayer was referring to Bob as "four eyes" which made him want to punch something.

"How can I guarantee that you can see correctly in the air?" Slayer asked him. "I shouldn't even have to fly with you at all."

"Oh," Bob said with a good natured chuckle. "My corrective lenses make it possible for me to see just perfectly. I passed my eye exams last month."

But Slayer just snickered. "The only thing worse than flying with a guy who can't see is flying with a woman." 

Bradley was about to take his helmet back from Nat when he felt his hands curl into fists. Suddenly it seemed like he had nothing to lose by leveling these assholes. 

"You need to learn some fucking manners and put some respect on her name," Bradley growled closing in on Slayer.

But the other man didn't back down at all. "I'm sure Phoenix here can't fly for shit, but at least she's alright to look at. I'll bet your wife is a dog, old man."

That was it. Bradley was actually going to be dishonorably discharged from the navy for fistfighting another officer. But just as Bob managed to kind of wedge his arms between their bodies, Admiral Dean started calling for everyone to get in their aircrafts. 

"Woof woof," Slayer called with a laugh as he strutted away. He sounded like a fucking child. He essentially was a fucking child. But Bradley still had to fight the desire to pound his face in.

"You need to relax," Nat hissed. "Dean already has it out for us, and you'll just make it worse."

"I know," Bradley growled, putting his helmet on. "But he insulted both of you."

"Bob and I are used to it, Rooster. You need to tuck your feelings way down deep inside until later tonight. I'll get out more candy and can you lay on the couch in the lounge and mope. But now is not the time!"

His friend was absolutely right. He needed to chill. So Bradley tried to clear his mind of all extraneous material, keeping only the mission details and his perfect wife at the forefront.

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

On Saturday evening, you managed to call your parents back. They sounded concerned when you lied and told them that you had a migraine and you were going to try to catch up on sleep for the rest of the weekend. You tried to engage in conversation for a few minutes more, but as soon as your mom mentioned future grandkids, you had to end the call. 

The throbbing pain in your heart just wouldn't go away. You missed Bradley. It hurt to breathe as you curled up in bed wearing your husband's UVA shirt with Tramp next to you. 

Jake kept texting you constantly, trying to see where you were. He tried calling a few times today, but you were ignoring him pretty successfully. Maybe you could just take some melatonin and pass out until tomorrow afternoon. 

As you climbed out of bed to dig around in your nightstand, a thought occurred to you. Had Bradley left you anything this time? You'd been too consumed by your wayward thoughts to even register that maybe there was something in here for you. When you opened the drawer, you sank all the way down onto your knees on the floor. 

There was a pretty, professionally bound album with one of your wedding photos on the cover. You and Bradley on the beach. He was looking at you like he couldn't believe you were real, and his fingers were resting gently on the side of your neck. 

You had to squeeze your eyes closed against the tears, because you could remember that moment perfectly. You could almost feel the weight of his hands on your body and hear his voice. When you reached into the drawer to remove the album, a tiny paper airplane that was tucked in the corner fell out of it.

Thanks for the memories, Baby Girl.

You couldn't stop crying. There were photos from when you were dating and the day he bought the craftsman. There were photos of Tramp and some from the Hard Deck. There was one of you at the beach just before a crashing wave soaked you through your clothing. There were some with your parents and some at Goose and Carole's gravesite. And he had chosen the most beautiful wedding and honeymoon photos as well. Everything was in order, and they were all perfect. And each one had a handwritten sentence or two underneath.

I can't believe how beautiful you are.

How did I get this lucky?

Let's stay together forever. That's all I want.

You are my perfect wife.

You were laying flat on the floor, staring at the ceiling with tears leaking from your eyes when you heard your doorbell ring. "Fuck," you gasped as you sobbed. Tramp launched himself off the bed and ran through the living room barking up a storm. 

They would go away. Whoever it was would just leave when nobody opened the door. But then the pounding started. "Angel! It's me! I see your car in the driveway."

You didn't want to talk to Jake right now. You didn't want to talk to anyone right now. You just wanted to look at the album of photos from your husband and wonder what he meant by Thanks for the memories, Baby Girl.

"I brought my spare key from Rooster, and I'm about to use it," he called through the door. Even Tramp's barks had turned to a pathetic whimper by this point, so you just got yourself up off the floor. 

You almost made it to the door by the time Jake was opening it. And then he took one look at you, softly closed it behind him, and wrapped his arms around you. 

"Oh, Angel," he crooned as you sobbed and shook against him. "What the hell happened?"

"Everything," you cried, burying your face in his shirt. "I don't know."

Carefully and very slowly, he guided you toward the couch as he told you that it would all be okay. But you didn't believe him. And when he suggested you sit down while he got you something to drink, you shook your head.

"Okay," he whispered, keeping his arms tight around you, holding you in the middle of the living room. You had no idea how long it took until you were able to stand on your own again, but when you finally pulled your face away from his shoulder and met his eyes, he looked very concerned. 

You just sniffed and wiped at your tears as he kissed your forehead. "You ready to tell me what's wrong?" he asked, and you just shrugged in response. You knew that as soon as you started talking, you'd be sobbing again. "You ready for some tea and a snack?"

This time you nodded and plopped down onto the couch with Tramp at your feet. You could hear Jake opening and closing the kitchen cupboards, looking for mugs and tea bags. But it felt nice to have someone in your house with you, so you curled up against the throw pillow and took some deep breaths. When he set down some cheese and crackers next to a mug of hot tea, you realized you hadn't eaten all day. Your stomach growled with hunger, and then you thought you might be sick. 

He sat next to you and blew on his own mug of tea. "Figured you hadn't eaten dinner," he mused, petting Tramp on the head. 

"I haven't eaten all day," you whispered, reaching for your own mug. 

Jake gave you an appraising look. "I think it's time to tell me what's wrong."

You tried to sip your tea, but it was too hot. "You already know I can't seem to get pregnant," you said with an awkward shrug. "It's the only thing Bradley wants, and I can't get it right."

"Angel. That's not the only thing he wants," Jake insisted, but your eyes were blurry with tears again. 

"Just because he'd never admit to it doesn't mean it's not true," you whispered.

"He'd never admit to it, because it's not true. Jesus, do you hear yourself? Trying to talk in circles to reach an incorrect conclusion?" he asked, shaking his head. "Bradley would walk through fire for you. He would tame a lion, or defy the laws of physics or some shit."

You snorted in spite of yourself. But then you admitted to Jake that Bradley had gotten his sperm tested behind your back. And you told him the things he had said recently that made you cry yourself to sleep.

"He's just stupid," Jake insisted. "Doesn't mean he loves you less because you're not pregnant. Yet. Just give it a few more months. And it sounds like you both want the exact same thing, and you both want to find a way to blame yourself so the other one can be let off the hook."

"Huh." You hadn't really thought about it that way. The self blame crept in every day for you. But maybe that was part of the reason why Bradley gave a sperm sample. Blaming yourself was easier than blaming the person you loved. 

Then Jake asked, "Did you skip lunch all week? I saved you a seat every day. I saw Maria, and I asked if you'd been eating with her." 

You looked at him and knew you couldn't lie. "I haven't really had an appetite since Bradley left."

"Have you been avoiding the dining hall because of me?" 

Maybe you had been a little bit. You didn't want to go down there knowing you wouldn't see Bradley, not with the way you left things. But you felt like things with Jake were a little off kilter too. "I don't know. Maybe."

He sat in silence for a minute before reaching for the plate of cheese and crackers and holding it out to you. With a sigh you took some of the food and started to nibble on it. 

"What's going on with you and Cat?"

"Nothing."

You rolled your eyes and bit into the cracker. "I've heard that before."

He lounged back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. "I really like her. There's something about the way she looks and her smile and her voice. I don't know. But she told me a few days ago to just stop asking her out. So I did. And I've barely seen her since."

You felt like maybe this was your fault. You also felt like maybe this is what Jake actually needed. "Is Hondo still riding you?"

"Nah," Jake sighed before he drank more of his tea. "He backed off. Kind of miss it though. Make me feel like I was getting somewhere, you know?" he asked with a tiny smirk. "It's hard to get under that man's skin. But I guess making out with his niece will do the trick."

You laughed, and then you realized you had eaten most of the cheese and crackers. And then you finished your tea while Jake took Tramp out for a little walk for you. 

Once he was gone, you texted Maria and Cam about potentially going to brunch tomorrow morning. Then you sat in bed and took your time with the photo book from Bradley. Every page made you smile or feel like crying because you missed him. 

When you tried to put his wedding band on your thumb, it was still too big. So you unclasped the chain holding the charms he gave you, and you added it there. Then you took your melatonin and went to sleep.

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

Bradley was in line for dinner on Monday after a day of being roasted by Admiral Dean when he heard his name. "Bradshaw." He turned to see a man heading his way. "There's a free slot with an iPad if you want it."

"Now?" he asked, tossing his tray down and stepping out of line. 

"Yes. Your name was at the top of the list."

"Okay," he said, heart racing as he headed for the room onboard the aircraft carrier where he could finally talk to you. He was nervous. There were a million things he wanted to say, and he wished he had written them down. But it didn't matter. He was going to get to see your face. He could finally tell you the truth about how he had been feeling and how he was going to make things up to you. And he'd beg you to be honest with him, too. 

"Thanks," he muttered as he took the offered iPad and found an empty seat. He could hear other officers talking and laughing with their loved ones, and he smiled as he entered your phone number. The first thing out of his mouth was going to be how much he loved you. The second thing was going to be that the two of you would figure everything out when you were together again.

But Bradley counted each time your phone rang unanswered. Three... Four... Five.

You always answered when he called. Every single time. You answered when you were at work. You answered in the middle of the night. You answered when you were taking Tramp for a walk. 

Six... Seven.

And then the line went dead. You had ignored his call. 

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

He bought that ring weeks ago. And I don't even know when he managed to sneak the gift into the drawer. And I don't know how they can fix this. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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[laurbiek]

as promised... something!

....::::**•°✾°•**::::........::::**•°✾°•**::::.... ....::::**•°✾°•**::::....

She hears the distinctive sound of the WhatsApp video call. Its weird when they're in different countries, the mode of communication changes time and time again to avoid crazy roaming charges. She's used to being able to call him quick using the regular phone app, to see if he wanted her to pick up dinner or to ask him nicely if he would switch her laundry out for her.

It's weird to start over on another app, it almost feels like they're starting another relationship. It feels so different. The inside jokes and frequent questions about the HBO password are nowhere to be found, in it's place is an empty blank page, waiting hopefully to be filled with the same.

She picks up her phone from the edge of the bed and swipes to answer the call. She looks at the time when she does, 10:04, almost five minutes late for their scheduled call.

At least that has stayed the same.

The slight hum of the highway plays in the background, and there Andrew sits. He looks tired, but not over consumed. It's a good kind of tired, like the kind you get after a good, but long day. More of a content-tired. His hair is in the messiest bun possible, obvious that he needed it out of the way and had lost all ability to care. He's got his glasses on, and Y/N remembers when he Facetimed her from the eye doctor to see if they looked good before he ordered them.

She internally thinks that they still do.

"Hey love", he finally speaks between bites of a sandwich. She looks down at the table the phone is propped on, and sees the distinctive red and white wrappings.

"Are you kidding, you went to Wawa without me..."

"I'm sorry! The band voted before we left Philly! I told them you'd be mad but they don't seem to care about my marriage so... I had to"

"This is a betrayal, of the highest degree. I can't picture a world where I can forgive you"

"If I could ship one across the Atlantic to you, you know I would"

There is a few beats of silence, they both know that statement means more than just a sandwich.

She finally breaks,

"How are you holding up?"

"Eh, not bad. I've not been this tired in a while but I'll get used to it soon. I've done it before."

"It's quiet in the bus, where is everyone else?"

"Sleeping"

"So everyone else is sleeping and you stayed up to call me?

He takes another bite of his sandwich before answering simply,

"Yeah."

She stares at him through the phone as he keeps eating like he doesn't understand the niceness of his actions, it's just second nature to him.

"Thank you," she says, voice full of genuine earnestness.

He doesn't respond to that, instead, he switches to another topic. He doesn't feel like he needs thanks for his actions, he would rather thank her for being around to call him.

"How are you at home, everything good?"

"Yeah, there was a dead bird in the yard yesterday, Elwood found it while we were playing, he almost picked it up but I got to him before he did. That's honestly the most exciting thing that's happened here since you left."

"But that's the joy of the country isn't it, that nothing ever happens?"

"Yeah. But I would rather do nothing with you than do nothing alone"

There's a long stretch of silence between them before Andy notices a tear fall down Y/N's cheek. There are no other signs of her sadness, no shaking shoulders or audible sounds. Just a few gentle tears that he would've missed if he wasn't so utterly enraptured by her face on the five-inch screen. His heart breaks.

"Hey hey, it's ok love, it's just a bit longer. I'll be home for a break in a few weeks. "

"I know. It's just really hard."

He doesn't know what to say to that at first. He wants to hammer on about how she knew what she was getting into, and this was an inevitability. But he knew she knew that. Him repeating it isn't going to make either of them feel any better. The next part of him yearned to just get on a plane and be at home, but that wasn't fair to anyone. Not his bandmates, not the concertgoers, and not Andy who loved what he did more than anything.

All he could say was

"I know."

You imagine the separation being hard but no one really prepares you for it. You can't prepare for it. It's the pain of losing a routine and a lover all at once. It's the frustration of needing help, of needing someone to take something off your plate and having someone willing to, but that someone is 1000 miles away. Literally.

She's crying a little harder now, still silent, with the tears increasing in frequency and size. He says again,

"I know. I know how hard it is cause I feel it too. You know what I miss the most right now?"

"What?"

"I miss the things that you do that piss me off. The annoying stuff. I miss how you always steal bites of my food."

She can't help but laugh at that. He keeps talking,

"I miss how cold your feet are and how you're always trying to shove them under me to warm them. And how often you leave dirty clothes on the floor."

She joins in this time,

"I miss your hair clogging the shower drain. And how you use every possible dish when you cook."

"See, doesn't it hurt a little less knowing that you don't have to unclog the shower for a while?"

"Yeah, and I'm sure you sleep easier without my cold feet poking you."

Theres another small pause, but this one is not as sad as the rest of them. This one feels like two people comfortable with each other, just basking in the silence, feeling no pressure.

"It sucks love, it really does. But it gets easier. And there are less shitty days. And it's not for forever."

"Ok, it's shitty, but I've felt shittier. And it's not for forever."

"Yeah."

"OK," she says, wiping her eyes a bit to try to show a bit of a braver face, "this is getting kind of bummer-ish, talk to me a bit about tour stuff"

For the rest of the call, he prattled on about various events and hijinks at his shows, on the road, and in between. About halfway through the story, he realized that she had fallen asleep and for some reason, he finished the story before hanging up. Possibly hoping that she would wake back up, but mostly enjoying the domestic feeling of talking to her. He eventually hung up, settling with the fact that she was indeed asleep for real. A few hours and a timezone later after he woke up from his own nap, he noticed a WhatsApp message again,

I forgot the HBO password again...