#my coming out wasn't even that terrible!! it wasn't good but it wasn't 'still scared as hell six years later' bad!!

[liebelesbe]

I think the reason I'm still so weird about my lesbianism irl is because I came out before I was ready. I told myself I should just "get it over with", but it feels like somebody reached inside of me and pulled out some important organ that to this day feels like an open wound.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You were trying your best to enjoy the countdown to the arrival of the baby, but your emotions were all over the place. Even on your birthday, you couldn't tell if you were excited or anxious. Bradley planned to surprise you with something special, but he got a different kind of surprise instead.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing, injury while pregnant

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. 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.

Your parents' departure after Christmas left you antsy and anxious, and you knew Bradley could tell. All the talk about them potentially moving to California had you on edge, especially since everything was beginning to feel very real now. Your due date was creeping closer and closer, and you were starting to remember one solidly scary fact on an hourly basis now: neither you nor Bradley had any clue how to take care of a baby.

Your husband was so excited, it wasn't like you could feasibly bring up this topic of conversation. Every time you tried, he reminded you that he had watched dozens of Youtube videos. He told you that your parents were always just a call away. He assured you that if he was ever going to be successful at anything, it would be taking care of Rosie.

"I'm ready for the Nugget, Baby Girl," he told you as you got dressed to go out to the Hard Deck on New Year's Eve. He was already wearing the pink shirt you gave him for Christmas. The tiny matching one was tucked away in the closet in the nursery which brought a tear to your eye.

"I know you are," you sniffed, "but I'm still scared." You'd had a headache for the last few days, and food just hadn't sounded appealing to you. Your belly was getting enormous as your third trimester wore on, and everything was tender. "She'll be here so soon."

Bradley looked at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. "Eleven more weeks, but who's counting? Not me," he said, holding up his phone which had a 'Countdown to Rose' background on the screen. When you didn't even smile, he sighed and said, "I know you're nervous, Sweetheart. I get moments where I'm really nervous, too."

You pressed your lips together and tried to hold back the tears. You already knew how much he struggled with coming to terms with becoming a parent when he hadn't had either of his for such a long time. "The whole thing is going to hurt. And then we have to figure out what to do with an actual baby. Like this is going to be way different from nursing Tramp back to health. And I suddenly feel like I'm going to be terrible at this."

He had you in his arms immediately, and you were trying not to get your smeared makeup on his pink shirt. "It might hurt, but I'll be with you the whole time. And then I swear I'll take care of everything right afterwards so you don't have to. I'm planning on taking a few days off from work after Rosie gets here, and you can relax and be an amazing mom while I clean and take care of everything else."

You looked up at him as a tear slid down your cheek. "You're going to cook, Roo?" you asked, finally breaking into a smile.

His eyes went wide, and his lips parted wordlessly. You laughed at the worried look on his face even as you cried a little bit more. "Well, we can figure that part out. Or maybe you can freeze some dinners? I don't think I should be cooking."

"I agree," you hiccuped, wrapping your arms around him awkwardly with your belly in the way.

You were quiet for a bit before Bradley finally asked, "Would you rather stay home tonight?"

Of course you'd rather stay home. Nothing sounded as good as your bed these days. That was where he fucked you until you weren't horny anymore and then let you fall asleep in his arms while he read to you from the Nugget notebook. "No, I want to go out and see everyone," you told him, because you knew he wanted to go out. "We can sleep in tomorrow and do nothing."

He kissed the top of your head and murmured, "It'll be a relaxing week since we're going out for your birthday on Friday night."

"Are we?" you asked, suddenly feeling excited that he always remembered your day and made it special. "Where?"

"Hot sauce restaurant," he whispered. "And maybe a little something extra."

"A cake?" you gasped.

Bradley laughed as he wiped away your tears. "You want a cake? I'll get you a cake, Baby Girl. Anything you want."

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

The Hard Deck was absolutely packed for New Year's Eve, and Bradley was getting worried that someone was going to bump into you. He tried to get you and your bottle of Gatorade tucked safely between his body and Nat's, but there were people shoving through the crowd in every direction.

"I've never seen it this crowded before," you said over the music. You'd just been talking to Jake about three feet away, but Bradley could only pay attention to anyone who looked drunk and unsteady on their feet while he sipped his own beer cautiously.

"Seriously," he replied. "Penny and Jimmy look panicked. That new bartender looks like she's going to cry."

You scanned the room, taking a small step away from him and Nat, and that's when you got bumped. "What the fuck, man?" Bradley shouted to some guy he'd never seen before when you stumbled back against him. "Watch where the fuck you're going."

"I'm fine, Roo," you assured him with your hand on his bicep, but Bradley glared daggers at him until he was out of your vicinity.

"You might be fine, but I want you to be safe and comfortable," he snarled, finally looking down at your pretty face as your straw rested on your lip. "I want you to feel as perfect as you look." Just then someone else bumped you into him, and his fingers curled into a fist.

You reached for his hand and shook it until his fingers uncurled and were laced with yours. "I want to tell you to stop, but you're seriously turning me on right now," you moaned, eyes glued to his face as your pupils grew wide. "Like a lot."

Bradley closed his eyes and took a deep breath as his body reacted to your words and the look you were giving him. His hand came to rest gently on your bump, stroking you through your shirt. You looked incredible right now, and you even tasted and smelled impossibly sweet to him. "It's way too early to leave," he rasped, glancing down your shirt as you took another sip of Gatorade. "But when we do, I promise you'll be well taken care of."

"Mmkay, Daddy," you replied, kissing his neck while Nat made an animated gagging face behind you.

"I was going to ask if either of you wanted to play darts with me, but not if you're going to start doing that all night," she said, but you were already bouncing with excitement. 

"I want to play!" you told her, shoving your drink into Bradley's free hand.

Nat grimaced but said, "Okay, fine. But only because you look happy, and the endorphins are probably good for the baby."

For the next forty-five minutes, Bradley acted as a human fence, trying to block anyone from jostling you while you and his best friends played darts. "You want to play, Roo?" you asked him at one point, holding up three darts in his direction.

"Who's going to guard you and Rosie if I play?" he asked, glaring at a woman who came tripping in your direction.

"She'll be fine," Nat told him, but he just shook his head and let you play. This was actually exhausting. He knew he'd be tired once the baby was born, but he hadn't been anticipating starting his protective duties this early. Soon he'd have his wife and his daughter to look after. Not that he minded. He was already living for it, but he didn't want to mess anything up. Your nerves were evident earlier as your hormones were constantly fluctuating, but he wasn't sure he had an excuse here.

"Are you listening?" you asked, patting his abs with the back of your hand. He could feel your engagement ring through his new shirt which made him smile unexpectedly. "It's almost midnight."

"Oh. Should we head home?" he asked, hoping he could get you out of here unscathed. The bar was getting a little wild now.

"Let's stay for the countdown and then head out. Get me a ginger ale?"

He grunted in response, looking for someone responsible to leave you with while he fought his way to the bar, but Bob was already gone on his deployment. Maria hadn't even come out tonight, and Cam was wasted. Bradley glanced at Jake and Cat who were looking quite cozy off in the corner, and he led you in that direction with his hands on your shoulders. "Stay with them," he told you, clearly interrupting the couple as you tried to dig your feet in.

"Hey, Angel," Jake said with a smirk. He had Cat's lipstick on his face and his arm around her waist, but he didn't seem too upset that Bradley dumped you there.

"Can you look after my wife while I get her something to drink? It's a little rough in here tonight. If anyone touches her, just punch them."

"I don't need a babysitter," you complained, but he kissed your forehead as Jake made room for you to stand against the wall.

"Yes, you do. I'll be right back."

Bradley fought his way up to the bar where everyone was reaching for the plastic champagne flutes that Jimmy was pouring. Penny saw him and immediately got him another beer, but he had to lean in and ask, "Can I get a ginger ale too, Pen?"

She shot him a little smile as she reached for the soda gun and a pint glass, and Bradley turned back to check on your current status. This time next year, you and he would be cozy at home with Rose, and there was nothing that could possibly make him want to be out for the night. A soft smile found his lips as he thought about coaxing his daughter to sleep and holding her against his chest while you and he watched New Year's Rockin' Eve on TV with Tramp on the area rug.

"Hey, handsome, you wanna buy me a drink?"

Bradley let his gaze shift down to the woman next to him, and he shook his head as she reached for his hand. "Absolutely not," he replied immediately, annoyed that someone was making his quest to get this drink and get back to you longer than it needed to be. He handed Penny ten dollars and grabbed your ginger ale before heading toward the back corner where you were waiting for him, safe and sound.

"Seriously, as soon as midnight hits, we're out of here, Sweetheart."

You sipped your soda and said, "Whatever you want."

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

It turned out you and Bradley wanted the same thing. He had you both undressed by the time you got to your bedroom, and then the two of you stumbled into the bathroom, laughing between kisses. He tasted like beer, and his two day old stubble was rough, and you wanted him so badly you were aching for it. But he took the time to light two of the candles you left near the bathtub for when you wanted to take a relaxing bath, his hard cock bobbing as he walked. 

"I'm setting the mood," he whispered with a smile, the scars on his face intriguingly handsome in the candlelight.

"Bradley, I'm always in the mood at the moment," you reminded him. You could probably handle him four times a day right now if he could manage it.

"Just let me try to be romantic," he whined, pressing your butt against the edge of the vanity before spinning you around to face the mirror. "I want to romantically fuck the shit out of you."

Your giggles turned to moans as he guided himself deep into your pussy before stroking your clit with one sure fingertip and bracing his hand on the vanity next to yours. His abs were hard against your back, and his pelvic bones were sharp, digging into your rear end. He pulled out a few inches before thrusting deep once again with a delicious snap of his hips. His eyes looked impossibly dark reflecting in the mirror as he watched your breasts bounce as he repeated that same thrust once again.

"Look at you," he crooned softly, leaning in to kiss the shell of your ear as he fucked you a little faster. "Oh my god."

He dragged his big hand up from your clit to cup your belly softly, kissing along your neck as you already felt yourself pulsing around him. Those rough fingers soon found your nipple, and you gasped, "Bradley," which just seemed to egg him on.

He was sucking on your neck and murmuring sweetly incoherent nothings. "Baby Girl, these tits. Gonna love them. My fucking god. Massive."

Where you just saw stretch marks and oversized body parts, he saw something that made him go feral for you right now. Your boobs were so tender, but there was something about the way he was grabbing at you that made you just want more. His voice was deep as his teeth grazed your skin, fingers kneading into the side of your breast as you clenched around his cock which was once again shoved deep inside your pussy.

"Your nipples look fucking huge," he whined, his hips starting to stutter after each fluid movement. "Do you see this?" he asked, hand sliding up the valley between your breasts to grab your chin and aim your eyes upwards until you were studying yourself. Your lips were parted, and he was right, your breasts did look pretty incredible as the candle light flickered. And somehow your swollen belly looked almost cute as he slammed into you from behind and groaned your name. "I did this to you," he whispered, hand resting over your belly button. "But the rest of it is just how fucking sexy you are. I can't get enough."

When you met his wild gaze in the mirror, you let your head tip back to his shoulder, maintaining eye contact as you started to come. He held you tight to his body as his hips met your butt and his cock stroked you exactly how you needed him to. "Oh fuck," you gasped, legs starting to shake as you got closer.

"Good girl," he crooned next to your ear, his mustache prickling your skin as your eyes closed. He fucked you through your orgasm, voice mingling with yours, and before you know it, you were standing there panting while his cum dripped down your inner thighs.

You were a little dizzy, but he kept a firm hold on you as he kissed and tasted your neck, cheek and shoulder. His fingers were stroking your furled nipples, and your skin was on fire with pleasurable little aftershocks that you didn't want to stop. But you were so tired, you needed to get off your feet.

"Roo."

Maybe it was how you said it, or maybe it was the use of that pet name in general, but he seemed to know exactly what you needed with just that one word. He helped you to the toilet and cleaned up your legs while you used it. He brushed his teeth while you did yours, and then he waited for you to remove your contacts and wash your face before leading you to bed. When he climbed in next to you, he kissed your lips and let you get as comfortable as you could before whispering, "I love you both." You were asleep before he turned off his lamp.

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

Leading up to Friday, Bradley kept trying to sneak off to confirm the plans he made for your birthday. But when he tried to call the lounge in Del Mar first thing in the morning, nobody answered, and if he tried later in the day, there was always an interruption. And that interruption was usually you. On Thursday evening, he finally managed to sneak away to the garage where he planned on working out as soon as he made the phone call.

Once he verified that you were nowhere in sight or within earshot, he had his phone pressed to his ear. When someone answered, he quickly said, "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I just wanted to confirm my rental agreement for the rooftop space for tomorrow night. I have the hour-long private event planned."

"Yes, sir. The space and the DJ are all yours from nine to ten o'clock tomorrow night."

"Great," he replied, head still on a swivel even though he was pretty sure you were doing a load of laundry inside the house. That's when you came strolling into the garage with a snack in your hand, and he quickly ended the call after a muttered thank you. "Hey," he told you as he awkwardly tossed his phone onto the tool bench and picked up one of his dumbbells.

You stood there in one of his old, stretched out tee shirts and a pair of maternity shorts and chewed on an unsalted pretzel. "Who were you talking to?" you asked. He should have known he wasn't going to get away with you not noticing.

"Uh... nobody," he muttered, and you raised one eyebrow in response. He sighed. "I don't want to tell you, because it's a surprise for your birthday tomorrow, okay?"

You smiled and told him, "Okay, Roo. No worries." You bit into another pretzel, and Bradley realized how tired you looked.

"Did you finish eating dinner?"

"No," you replied softly. "I just want a few pretzels. I have like no appetite."

Your next appointment with Dr. Morris was coming up in a week, and he had been wondering if it was bad that you hadn't gained really any weight since before Christmas. Work had been very busy for you the past few days with the arrival of some sort of new scientific equipment that completely baffled him. You were exhausted after one round of sex now, which was definitely a change of pace from a month ago. He almost blushed when he thought about how the two of you spent your first wedding anniversary.

"I think you need to eat something with some substance or protein or something, Sweetheart."

"I can't," you snapped. "Everything else makes me feel awful. You should try being pregnant, Bradley. It kind of sucks."

He didn't know how to respond, because the last thing he wanted to do was piss you off the night before your birthday. "Okay. Well, will you let me know if I can get you anything?"

You nodded as you chewed up another pretzel before yawning. "I came out to watch you get all sweaty for a minute before I head to bed."

"In that case," he said, laying back on his bench, "let me get started, birthday girl."

You were smiling again as he unlocked his barbell and got to work.

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

You woke up on your birthday to the feel of Bradley's hand on your hip and his voice in your ear, slowly coaxing you from your dream. "Happy birthday, Sweetheart." You rolled over and were met with his brown eyes and his messy bed head, and he collected you in his arms. "It's my second favorite day of the year."

His body was warm, and the last thing you wanted to do was go to work today. "Pretty soon it will be your third favorite day of the year," you croaked. When his brow furrowed, you guided his hand to your belly and said, "Don't even try to tell me the Nugget's birthday won't surpass it."

Your husband shook his head. "It'll be a tie," he whispered, kissing your forehead as the baby thumped around. "Hey, Rosie is saying happy birthday, too!"

You moaned softly. "Rosie is hungry but doesn't seem to like any foods right now."

Bradley ran his fingers along your cheek before kissing that spot. "I'm hoping the hot sauce restaurant will hit the spot for you tonight. Plus I have a fun surprise for afterwards."

It was worth a try. Hot sauce was one of the only things that didn't sound disgusting to you at the moment. In fact, Bradley poured you a little bowl of your favorite kind for you to dip your granola bar into while he made some coffee, and you did feel a bit better. Your stomach gurgled as he plopped down onto the piano bench to play the birthday song and sing to you. 

As ridiculous as he looked sitting there in his boxer briefs with his hair still a mess, you knew you could never love someone the way you loved him. He was going to be such a good dad. He already built the playset and had the nursery almost ready. He had a countdown going on his phone. He picked out an outfit for the baby to wear home from the hospital. And he took care of you all the time.

"I love you, Roo," you promised, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing along the gray hairs at his temple. "I can't wait for dinner later."

As soon as you were dressed in your hideous maternity tent, Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found yourself stifling yawn after yawn. You were beginning to doubt that you could make it through work let alone a whole date night, but you didn't want to tell him that. Not when he was playing your favorite songs and holding your hand while he drove. Not when he had his arm draped over your shoulders as he walked you all the way up to your office and kissed you like his life depended on it.

"I love you," he murmured before dropping down to one knee to press a kiss to your bump. "Be extra nice to Mommy today, little Nugget." You could feel her squirm around as she seemed to recognize his voice. "She's got a busy day planned for her birthday."

Then he was back on his feet, zipping his flight suit up fully, and with one last kiss, he was heading toward the elevators.

After just an hour in the lab, it was evident that the granola bar and hot sauce had not been enough for breakfast. You desperately wanted to sneak back to your office and dig around in your snack reserve in your desk to take the edge off if you could. You were currently waging a war between being hungry and simultaneously appalled by food.

"Are you okay?" Cat asked, nudging your arm with her elbow as Bickel droned on about the equipment that was on loan from Lemoore's engineering department. He was hoping that in the next two months, you and the others would be able to help him build a more streamlined interface for the F/A-18s. It wasn't that you weren't interested, because you were. You just couldn't focus very well at the moment.

"I'm fine," you told Cat who gave you side eye but stood quietly next to you. It would have been beneficial to have taken your birthday off and spent it in bed, but it was too late for that.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Bickel finally stopped talking, but then he called your name. You met his gaze and realized he looked very excited.

"Yes, sir?" you asked him, taking a step forward. You felt awful. Even the sound of your boot squeaking on the floor set your teeth on edge. Your head had begun to pound at some point in the morning, and now it felt like your brain was attacking your skull.

"Come help me test it out," he said, his voice grating on your nerves in a way it never had before.

Your next step was a bit of a stumble, and you tried to reach for the edge of the counter. You were going to throw up. The urge to gag left you reeling, searching for something to hold onto. Cat was calling your name as Bickel's eyes went wide, but when you reached for him, your hand caught on the instrumentation instead. It hurt a lot, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as your knee connecting with the cabinet. You needed someone to reach you before you hit the floor, but you weren't that lucky. You wrapped your arm around your belly the best you could, but as soon as you hit the floor, you were met with blackness.

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

Bradley didn't really need practice dogfighting, but it certainly was fun anyway. Especially when he was up against Jake late in the morning. The taunting was comical and getting more absurd by the minute.

"Hey, Hangman, why don't you hang it up, man. You're done," he said as he shot the other pilot down for the third time in a row.

"Lay an egg, birdman," came the response through his helmet that made him chuckle.

Bradley was just pulling up on his throttle to gain some altitude and go again when he heard Maverick's voice crackle through his helmet. 

"Wheels on the tarmac. Both of you. Rooster first, then Hangman." The tone of his voice left Bradley wondering what was going on. The weather was beautiful, and he was actually enjoying this exercise immensely. In a few hours, he'd be feeding you anything you wanted off the dinner menu at your favorite restaurant before indulging you in your very own, private silent disco.

But as soon as he touched down and started to taxi back toward the hangar, he saw Maverick and Nat running his way. Then he heard her voice through his helmet. "Open your canopy. You need to get out now. Your wife is in the emergency room."

A chill colder than ice shot through his body. Something was wrong with you or the baby, and he hadn't been there to help you. "What?" he gasped, saliva starting to pool at the back of his tongue, making it hard to swallow. "What happened?"

Nat didn't respond, but as soon as his jet came to a stop, she had his ladder ready for him. The rush of fresh air that hit him as his canopy opened did nothing to make him feel better as she shouted for him to climb down. Something happened to one of his girls. He hadn't been there. As soon as he was able to control his body, he climbed down as quickly as he could, skipping the last few rungs. When Nat reached for his hand, he could see the alarmed look in her eyes, and he started crying.

"What happened?" he asked again, but she just pulled her car keys from her pocket while she grasped his hand, and he ran with her to the parking garage.

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

Omg, why am I doing this? I hope Nat can drive fast. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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[anxious-lee]

The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known || Hazbin Tickle Fic ||

A/N: this entire fic was inspired by that one scene where Al threatens Husk in ep 5. it broke my heart to see him so utterly petrified so I wrote this as a hurt/comfort for myself

Warnings: mentions of Alastor's control over Husk, slight NSFW language but it's not actually sexual I just didn't have any synonyms for what I meant lol

Word count: 2,466

-----

When you're an Overlord of Hell, you tend to get pretty comfortable with staying in control.

Because one wrong move can mean the end of the line.

Husk knew that better than most.

And even now, after all that power of his was lost, he still found himself more suited to calling the shots in whatever situation he found himself in. It was just easier that way. If he could remain on top of things, then nothing would go wrong. Mostly.

That feeling of security never lasted long, though, because sooner or later, he was reminded of the terrible choice he made long ago. That he gave away his autonomy to the most psychotic demon in hell.

The way he spoke to him. Like he was so small. And insignificant. Like he existed purely for the bastard's own amusement and nothing else. Any input given was condescended to, patronized, and dehumanized. It formed an ugly little pit in Husk's chest. How little control he had once Alastor stepped into the room. It scared him, in a way that so few things did.

At least he had someone else to talk to who knew how he felt.

Speaking of whom, Angel Dust strutted into the bedroom, sporting a fluffy silk robe.

"Hope I didn't make you wait too long~" he whined seductively.

"Not long at all," the other purred.

The two settled down together in bed, soaking in each other's embrace.

Tonight was all about them, huddled together in hell's moonlight.

Husk remained still as Angel shifted downward until his head fit under Husk's chin, knowing just where to go.

He loved to be pampered, that much was obvious.

It was peaceful for some time before Angel's eyes suddenly blinked open.

"Hey. How come you never want a turn at being the little spoon? I'm not unreasonable, I'm sure we could share," he said coyly.

Husk didn't quite know what to say to that. It wasn't something that needed to be spoken in words. Husk dominated, Angel submitted (in more ways than one). It seemed almost absurd to suggest that Husk would be the one being given affection.

"Nah, I'm good. You look pretty comfy down there, anyway."

Angel, however, wasn't satisfied with that answer. He pulled himself back to get a good look at the cat's face, cocking his own head curiously. Who wouldn't want to be on the receiving end? Even once? It couldn't be understated how warm and protected one could feel in the arms of another. And Husk didn't want that? Did he feel pressured to say that because he knew Angel liked to take that spot?

"Really? You THAT much of a top that you can't play second fiddle once?" said Angel.

"I'm just not a big... "softy-cuddles" kinda guy, as if you already couldn't tell," Husk admitted, gesturing to his overall gruff demeanor.

Angel studied his face.

"Not buying that for a second," he said, punctuating each word with a poke to the chest. "Come on, you're missing out!"

"That's sweet, babe, but I'm-"

"Just five minutes?" Angel pleaded, holding five fingers up in front of him, "Five minutes of me cuddling you for a change. If you decide you hate it, I won't bring it up again. I just... you're always taking care o' me. I want to give some of that back to you, ya'know? You deserve it."

Fuck.

How was he supposed to say no to those puppy eyes?

Besides, it couldn't hurt... right?

"Fine," Husk relented.

"Yay!" His boyfriend cheered.

They rearranged their positions; Husk now farther down the length of the bed and Angel wrapping all three pairs of arms around him like a furry burrito. His knees and head also tucked themselves inward to cradle the cat properly.

It still made Husk a little tense, letting someone handle him so willfully, but the touch was too nice to deny for very long. Thoughts of safety oozed into his brain as his body relaxed against the chest behind him.

"See? Now isn't this nice?" said Angel softly, barely above a whisper, "For a man who supposedly doesn't little-spoon, you've got the moves down pat."

"I'm not making any moves," Husk mumbled, smiling loudly in his voice.

"Well, you're relaxed, aren't ya?"

In a way.

Angel peered down at the bundle of fuzz, taking in how much shorter he was in comparison.

"Awww! I never noticed how cute you were from up here." His hand began petting the top of the kitty's head, smoothing down the hair.

And there was that feeling again. The one that couldn't let Husk enjoy a good thing while he had it. The fear of releasing control.

"I'm not a pet," he grumbled, having no control over the defensiveness in his voice.

Angel, ever oblivious, pressed on. "Oh, but you are to me~. My sweet little Husky~."

Finally, the camel's back broke under that straw.

"Just stop, okay?! I don't-" Husk took a much-needed breath, sitting up, "I know being treated like a toy is your thing, but it's not mine. I don't like being talked to like I'm a pet. Like all I am is your little dancing monkey." It dawned on him just how much of all that was directed at Alastor. The words sunk in like cement in a lake, and he turned his eyes away, unable to look at what he just ruined.

Angel blinked. All of sudden, the moment had soured, and he had no clue why. Was it something he said? Husk said he didn't want to be treated like a toy. Is that how he felt? Like he wasn't valued? That wasn't what he was trying to say at all! It was adoration! Not condescension.

"What...?" Angel breathed.

"Forget it. Just, I'm sorry-"

"No! No, don't apologize," Angel interrupted, choosing his next words carefully, "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. It wasn't what I meant to say. I wasn't tryin' to say you were weak or small. I was... I was trying to tells you that I adore ya. You do so much for me and our friends. You look out for us, and protect us, and listen to our bullshit problems all the time.

"I think so highly of you, Husk. You don't take shit from no one, not even me. You're unafraid to speak your mind. You know how to keep your head when life gets messy. I got nothing but respect for you. That's why I wanted to do all this. That's why I want to pamper you with love and shit. Because you're always so strong, and I wanted to... I don't know... give you the space where you didn't have to be strong. Not with me."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Husk couldn't find the words even if he tried. He had never heard such meaningful things spoken about him. Him, the grouchy barfly. How could he possibly come back from such a beautiful declaration? Especially now with how foolish he felt. It had never occurred to him that accepting affection was an act of good, and not an admission of weakness. That someone could be trusted to hold him in their hands and lift him up rather than drag him down.

Angel could never be Alastor. This was not a hostage situation.

This was a security.

One that he felt that he needed in this moment more than ever.

"Fuck... I'm sorry. I messed up everything and spoiled the mood. I'm still not very good at this whole intimacy stuff," Husk sighed.

"I know, and it's okay. I can teach you," Angel cupped his hand around Husk's cheek.

Husk leaned into the touch. "And uh... thanks. For what you said."

"I meant it."

What did Husk do on Earth to deserve such an Angel?

"Look, if uh. Ahem. If you still wanted to... to do what you were doing before... you know, I won't fight you," Husk stammered, falling quieter with each word.

If that's the only means of permission that Angel can get right now, then he'll take it. He gently eased Husk onto his back once more.

"Good. 'Cause I still have lots more love to give you, sweetcheeks." Angel's iconic smile returned.

Even though Husk basically just admitted he wanted Angel to keep going, his praises were beginning to fluster him. The corners of his lips started to rise, and the only defense he had against them was to turn his face away from the man in front of him.

"You like it when I talk to you like that, huh, baby? Do you hear in my voice how much I'm crazy about you? How I'd do anything for ya? Cause I would~. There's nothing that you don't deserve," Angel said, scratching oh so lightly beneath Husk's chin.

Husk squeezed his eyes shut as he surrendered to his smile and tried to crush Angel's hand with his neck.

"It's true~. Because you're just the cutest little thing alive! Er, unalive, so to speak," the spider said, feeling encouraged by this reaction, and bringing another hand to scritch in the middle of his side.

Before he could stop it, a giggle escaped from Husk's mouth. Mortified, he then clamped his jaw shut, holding any more upcoming laughs in.

"You don't have to pretend for me, baby. It's just us here," said Angel, now bringing all three sets of arms into the mix. One pair was tracing his sides, another scritching either sides of his neck, and the last drumming their fingers torturously over his belly.

The giggles rose back up again, and this time shutting his mouth wasn't keeping them at bay. If he weren't so stubborn, he might've given in by now. But it was just too embarrassing.

Husk clapped his paws over his mouth, and while it did (partially) succeed in quieting his laughter, it didn't do anything to remedy the tickly sensations now all over his torso. He twitched and quivered under the touch, but with Angel hovering over him, it didn't leave much room for reprieve.

"This looks like it really tickles. I'm sure you'd feel better if you let all those laugh out!" Angel encouraged, "Pleeeeeease? For me? For yourself?"

Still, he didn't budge.

"Okay. I didn't wanna have to do this, but you've left me with no otha' options." Angel took one hand that was scratching his chin and took both of Husk's paws in it, holding them above the cat's head.

The effect was gradual.

At first, you couldn't hear a peep. Then, over a matter of seconds, Husk's giggles began to bubble up once more, fighting their way to the surface, and tickling him from the inside out.

It was over. Before long, there was nothing between the loving attacker and the melodic sound he adored so much. It started out deeper and huskier, much like his normal speaking voice, but with each passing moment, it grew higher in pitch; the kind of laugh he reserved only for his softer moments with Angel.

The spider took this as a sign to continue and deepened the pressure of all of his appendages, digging into the jittery muscles.

Husk couldn't even recognize himself anymore. He sounded nothing like the bitter old drunk he normally was. In its place, was a goofy little lovesick fool who laughed like no one in the world could hear him. He guffawed and chortled and cackled with reckless abandon.

"There it itihis! There's that gorgeous laughter!" Said Angel. "For a moment there, I thought you was bout to explode!"

The compliment somehow made everything worse. The helplessness of the situation was still there, the feeling of being small, but it was... different. Like he was small enough to be held in someone's palm and protected from all harm. It felt safe.

Husk's cheeks began to burn red.

Hopefully, Angel would be too distracted to notice.

"Aw baaabe! Are you blushin'?!"

Fuck.

As if on cue, his cheeks burned brighter.

"Am I making you feel flustered~? Does it make it tickle more?"

"WOHOHOULD YOU SHUHUT UHUHUP?!"

"So it does. Hmm," Angel hummed as he started moving his hands faster and faster up and down his body. Up his sides, then down his sides, up his tummy, then down his tummy.

It was maddening.

It was tortuous.

It was wonderful.

If Heaven didn't feel like this, he didn't want it. If salvation didn't give him the same amount of relief and safety and joy that playing with his lover gave, then it wasn't worth it. He'd stay in this inferno of hell forever if it meant he could stay with Angel. Stay in this moment.

The demon in question kept on with his teases.

"Who's the cutest little thing~?" Angel cooed as he noticed Husk jump when he touched the lowest portion of his belly, "Ohoho, looks like someone's ticklish! Coochie coochie coooo~!"

Just when Husk thought he couldn't laugh any harder, he did.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA YOU FUHUHUCKING PRIHIHICK HAHAHA!" Husk snorted.

"Oho my gosh! You sound just like Fat Nuggets!" Angel chortled.

Husk's laughter was beginning to go silent, and started getting wheezier. This, Angel knew, meant it was time to stop.

"Alright, doll, I think you've had enough," Angel said as he released his prisoner.

As the spider removed his hands from his body, Husk started panting and giggling hysterically, still feeling the phantom sensations on his skin.

"Need some help there?" Angel offered, moving his hands back towards the other's belly.

Husk curled away from his hands, "Dohohon't!"

"I'm not gonna tickle ya, I swear! I'm just gonna get the leftover tickles to go away. Okay?"

Husk nodded hesitantly and revealed his stomach to him.

Angel's hands met his fur, and although it did jump at first, the firm pressure and massaging motions rubbed away the remaining tickles, just like he said it would.

"Dahamn. That really works." Husk breathed.

"Right? Now do you feel better?"

"Yeah," Husk sat up as Angel gave him room, "You know, for such a compliant gentleman, you sure do know how to take charge."

Angel swiveled to Husk with his mouth agape. "I can be a boss when I wanna be!"

"Heh. Sure, power bottom."

Angel reached for Husk's right foot (or paw) and skittered one set of fingers over it.

"NonononONONOHOHO! I'M SORRY, I TAKE IT BACK! I tahahake it bahahack! Hehehehe!"

"Uh huh. That's what I thought," Angel stopped and huffed with a wink, nothing but kind love behind his eyes, "So. You ready for bed?"

"After all that laughing? Hell yes I am. I might even sleep through tomorrow." Husk said tiredly.

Angel chuckled, sidling up behind Husk and gently cacooning his arms around him again.

"This okay?"

Husk sighed.

"It's perfect."

-------

Wooh! That was a rollercoaster! 😅 Hope the people that wanted lee!husk enjoyed this fic 🫶

[webslingingslasher]

if trouble needed peter during the breakup do you think she’d still be able to call?

yes. and i will now expand, thank u.

peter stares down at his phone, it's not that he's against answering, it's that he doesn't think you meant to call him. or maybe you're drunk and want to berate him.

either way he'd hear your voice and that would be really nice.

'hello?'

'hey.'

okay, you meant to call him. you don't sound drunk, you sound sad.

'everything okay?'

a slight muffle, you switch ears. 'no, not really. i'm lost.'

'on what?' you breathe out a laugh, peter smiles.

'no, actually lost. i was... i'm sorry, i don't mean to hit you where it hurts but i was out with this guy and he ditched me and i have no fucking idea where i am and my phone's about to die.'

peter's quiet, he's all you have right now.

'you're my only hope, obi-wan.' a cheap shot at help, peter appreciates the effort.

'it's- help me, obi-wan kenobi, you're my only hope.'

your turn to smile. 'close enough.'

peter slowly moves around, patting down his pockets to make sure he has everything. 'it's late, trouble. why were you ditched?'

you laugh, but it's not funny. 'you know, it sucks to say that you're the only guy that never threw a temper tantrum when i didn't wanna fuck.'

ouch, a slight sting. it feels better to know it didn't happen, painful to think it could. 'at least i was good at something.'

'well... you weren't terrible at the sex either. you were good enough you scared me from getting it anywhere else, don't know if you can say the same.'

peter closes his eyes when he breathes in, you haven't hooked up with anyone else either. 'if you're asking, no, i haven't hooked up with anyone.'

'i didn't ask.' ah, that's what peter was waiting for. the bait of a question, to turn around and pretend you didn't care what the answer was. peter knows you're just as relieved that he hasn't either.

'where am i going, trouble?' you give him street names, his heart stutters. it's far, it's late, and it's definitely not safe.

'you're outside? nowhere for you to go?'

'when i say ditched, i mean it. if it wasn't so weird i'd ask you to kick his ass.' peter kind of wants you to ask, he'd do it gladly. and half of it wouldn't even be because he left you hanging.

'how much battery do you have left?' a brief pause, you're checking.

'three percent.'

peter hates what he's about to say, but hates the idea of you with a dead phone even more. 'okay, hang up and i'll come find you.' for a second he thinks you did, until you push out the real reason you called him.

'i'm scared.' so you called him, your protector, your safety blanket.

'i'm coming, i promise.' he's already out of the house, walking one half of the way and he'll cut his time in half by swinging the rest. 'ten minutes, maybe less. i might even break out a light jog for you.'

you look around, there's no one. it feels even more eerie, you're still on three percent. 'do i really have to hang up?' leaving out the 'i need to hear your voice to make everything okay.'

'i want you to save what you have, just in case.'

'okay.' it's not, you can feel your chest tighten and the urge to cry. everything sucks and you just really want peter which somehow makes things simultaneously worse and better.

'hey, peter?' you think you'll regret it.

'yeah?'

'can i spend the night?' you count the seconds. two.

'yeah, of course. always. anytime, you know that.'

you smile, he's still your peter. 'thank you. and thanks for coming to save me.'

'it's kind of my job, some even call me a hero.'

'okay, obi-wan.'

'more like spider-man.'

'oh, you're so full of yourself. you wish you were spider-man.'

peter kisses his teeth, 'no, i really am.'

'then spider-man better come save me in five minutes, otherwise what's the point?'

'oh? is that the way i win you back?'

it's not so jokey anymore, in fact peter thinks your phone died. but no, still connected. before he can say that he wasn't thinking and that he's sorry and he was joking you answer him.

'i don't think it would hurt.' 

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Can I see Furina, Navia, Lynette, and Yae Miko dealing with their S/O who wears a mask all the time and never seen your face before? S/O got hurt badly protecting them and they took S/O mask off and see what S/O looks like and help them.

(Genshin Impact) Furina, Navia, and Lynette with a S/O who wears a mask

This is the way. I'd do Yae but my brain is at maximum capacity writing for the three, so remind me to write Yae later!

POTENTIAL POST-ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS FOR THE FONTAINE CHARACTERS UNDER THE CUT!

Furina had become very used to the sight of her S/O's mask.

It was reminiscent of a theatre mask, fittingly enough. The holes for the eyes were completely black, and there was no expression for the mouth.

No one could identify what S/O was feeling, other than determining it by voice alone.

Many people found it suspicious, but she wasn't one to judge.

Especially since Furina herself wore a metaphorical mask for the past few centuries.

And besides, there were far more suspicious people in Tevyat than the one person just covering their face.

Furina had grown to love S/O since they did the same for her. They cared for the person underneath the facade, and Furina did the same.

During their travels, they had come under attack by rogue Meka and were caught off guard.

Although Furina cannot not die, S/O very much could, and had gotten terribly injured during the skirmish.

===

(Furina) "S/O!"

Furina quickly dispatched the last Meka with her vision, a burst of Hydro sending it tumbling into the waters below in pieces.

S/O had finished off their attackers with a sword bisecting the machine. However, they were breathing heavily and leaning against a nearby rock, sliding down.

The mask betrayed nothing of what they felt, but she could tell they were hurt.

Panic began to set in Furina's head, quickly scrambling to help. Her eyes glowed a bright blue before a familiar appeared next to S/O, healing the worst of their injuries.

(Furina) "S/O, are you okay?!"

Her usual bravado was absent though it was slowly starting to come back when she saw their breathing begin to steady itself.

(S/O) "Could....be worse, thanks."

Furina's hand placed itself onto her chest, breathing a deep sigh of relief.

(Furina) "Thank goodness! Come now, we shall get ourselves some rest and-"

A red stream trickled down S/O's face, coming from underneath the mask and catching her attention.

(Furina) "Your head! Allow me to-"

Furina's hand stopped itself as it quickly reached for their mask. She had never seen S/O without it, and she wasn't sure if they wanted to be seen with it off.

Silently answering her, S/O's hand gently reached up to her arm, and nodding.

(S/O) "Not a word of this to anyone."

Furina gave them a weary smile.

(Furina) "It depends on how handsome/pretty you are, S/O."

Hearing their pained chuckle, Furina slowly took off the mask and saw their face for the first time. She couldn't help but stare for a few seconds before moving to clean the blood from their head.

It scared her so much to see them hurt, but it was also comforting to see them give her a reassuring smile back, and to see those eyes staring back into hers for the first time.

(S/O) "...D-Don't just stare at me like that, Furina."

(Furina) "How could I not? You look incredible, simply marvelous!"

(S/O) "Even with blood gushing out of me?"

(Furina) "Hah, especially so. It makes you look rather dashing."

S/O could tell she was joking, as her hands were still gripping tightly onto theirs from worry.

(S/O) "Once I actually look presentable and not beat up, you can stare all you like."

(Furina) "I will hold you to that. Now, let's get you cleaned up!"

Furina not so subtly stared at S/O on the way back, smiling back when S/O noticed her and broke off eye contact. How cute!

Navia did raise an eyebrow at S/O upon first meeting, but she quickly became accustomed to it.

It's not like she dressed all that subtly herself after all.

And besides, what matters the most about a person is what's on the inside!

And to Navia, S/O was one of the most trustworthy people you could meet, weird mask aside.

She did not pry on their reason for wearing it, only wanting to ask when the time seemed right.

But that time came quicker than she thought after a dangerous encounter with bandits.

===

(Navia) "Feeling lucky?!-"

Her umbrella gun's blast blew away the ground the bandits were standing on, sending them flying back.

After seeing them retreat after dealing with the remaining ruffians, she smirked in satisfaction.

(Navia) "Serves you punks right, now get out of here! Hah! S/O, did you-"

Turning back to brag about her skills to S/O, she suddenly noticed that they weren't responding, and worst of all, they were on the ground with red on their hands.

Navia stopped breathing for a split second before nearly sprinting over to them, quickly lifting them up.

(Navia) "No! No no no, please, no!"

(S/O) "...N-Navia-"

(Navia) "Please, stay with me! I can't lose you too!"

Navia's hand brushed against the side of their head, her eyes welling up with tears as her heart raced.

S/O's hands wiped away the tears from her face before speaking up.

(S/O) "I'll live. They just grazed me. Promise."

(Navia) "Y-You...You better...!"

S/O slowly reached for their mask and took it off to look Navia in the eye. A small amount of blood came from their lips, but they thankfully displayed no signs of bleeding out.

Navia stared wide eyed at the sight of their face, taking it in. This was the first time she had ever seen them with it off, and this was not the time she was expecting to.

(S/O) "S-See? Heh, perfectly fine...OW!"

Navia suddenly grabbed their face, squishing it repeatedly with one hand as she rubbed off the blood with her thumb.

(Navia) "Why...Why in the world did you not take that off sooner?! You're simply breathtaking!"

(S/O) "Becushyewd'dewdis!" (Because you'd do this!)

They could not form the sentence correctly with how Navia's hands were squishing their cheeks together, as if she were squeezing a ball.

S/O gently grabbed Navia's wrist and lifted it off their face, chuckling lightly.

(S/O) "Not that I don't mind your hand on me, but can you at least do so without feeling me up like a toy?"

(Navia) "A-Ah, my apologies! You're hurt as well, so we need to get you to a doctor!"

Throughout the trip, S/O caught Navia taking several glances to examine their face.

Lynette had kept her eye on S/O the moment she heard rumors about a masked individual going around Fontaine.

She had learned to watch out for any signs of danger in a person, especially if it concerned herself or Lyney.

What had shocked her the most was that S/O had displayed no reason to distrust them, other than the mask.

In fact, they were one of the most trusting people she had met, looking into any information about them, nothing about their past was particularly alarming.

So that meant their reasons for wearing the mask was less to conceal an identity and more personal.

The two had gotten to know each other after S/O was found taking care of a few stray cats around the city, both of them quietly enjoying their time.

After that, it became a lunch or two, and a few conversations here and there.

Eventually, it blossomed into something more as the two spent time, neither of them fully revealing everything about their past.

S/O didn't pry, so Lynette didn't either. At least not after she got to know the person behind the mask.

But after S/O had saved her from rather vicious wildlife...

===

S/O and Lynette took a moment to breathe, escaping to higher ground from the creatures attacking them.

(Lynette) "That was too close. S/O, thanks for-"

Her ears turned sideways as she realized there was blood falling from S/O's head.

(Lynette) "You're bleeding! Sit down!"

(S/O) "O-Ow...No need to tell me twice."

S/O almost collapsed before Lynette caught them, slowly making them lean against a nearby rock as she grabbed their mask.

She took it off without thinking and was stunned by seeing their face for the first time.

Her ears immediately straightened up as the words got caught in her throat. Lynette almost forgot what she was doing until seeing the blood trickle down.

S/O made no motion to stop her, only giving her a small smile that made her heart race even faster. After cleaning the injury on their head, she averted her gaze.

(Lynette) "...Sorry. I should have asked first."

(S/O) "You were worried, so you acted. If anything, I'm flattered."

Hearing their voice so clearly was messing with her head. To finally connect their soothing voice to a face was almost unnatural to her. Part of her was convinced that she'd never actually see it, at least not this soon.

(S/O) "You told me quite a bit about yourself and Lyney already, I think it's about time I returned the favor, anyway."

Lynette returned their smile, albeit hers was not as big.

(Lynette) "I suppose that's a fair trade."

She was finally able to look them in the eye for a few seconds before putting the mask back into their hands.

(Lynette) "...You should have that mask off more often."

(S/O) "I'll do that if you promise me you'll do the same...As long as it's only the two of us."

Her ears twitched for a brief moment, processing what they were asking.

She sincerely doubted at this point they were the type to blabber about anything they were told, something she was thankful for.

And if she got to see the true them, maybe that wasn't the most outrageous demand they could make.

Lynette had seen worse deals, anyway.

(Lynette) "Only for the two of us."

S/O responded by holding her hand tightly, and she responded in kind.

(Lynette) "First, we need to get back to the city. I've had enough outdoors for today."

(S/O) "Heh, agreed."

On the way back, Lynette could not keep her eyes off their face and felt a tad disappointed watching them put it back on as they reached civilization again.

[thestarrynightslover]

Whatever Comes

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,147

Warnings: A lot of angst. Mentions of blood, life-threatening injuries, hit-and-run, fracture wounds, and miscarriage.

Summary: Doctor (y/n) (y/l/n) and Jay Halstead are secretly dating when there is a terrible accident involving (y/n) and a lot comes to light.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way, or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Okay, so this is my first fic in a long while and I don't think it's all that good but I had to restart somewhere, so I hope you like it anyway!

(y/n) = (your name) (y/l/n) = (your last name) (y/n/n) = (your nickname)

| masterlist |

You had just gotten out of your car across the street from the side of Med and, as you were making your way through the bit of road that led to the hospital, a car comes into the driveway — screeching tires, in full speed — and runs you over long before you could even see anything and, there, in the matter of a few seconds, everything goes black and you’re left bleeding out in the street.

Almost an hour later, after you had regained consciousness and had begun dragging yourself, very slowly, towards the hospital, Will and Ethan, about to go inside Med, spot you and run your way eager to help you out — even if they hadn’t known it was you at first.

“Oh man, it’s Dr. (y/n) (y/l/n)!” Ethan exclaimed.

“(y/n), can you hear me?!?” You sort of heard Will ask through your dizziness haze.

“Wow, you’re actually shorter this up close than I had imagined at first.” You attempted a joke with your friend, momentarily gaining some clarity.

Ignoring you, Will just asked no one specifically, “oh Lord, how long has she been bleeding out here?”

Decisive as always, you heard as Dr. Choi commanded, “I don’t know but, come on, Will, let’s carry her to the ED!”

As soon as your friends get inside the hospital with you, everybody stays in shock for a moment until Maggie yells: "get her in treatment 4, now!"

Following her lead, Will and Ethan get started on treating you, who has a few broken ribs, and free fluid in your belly besides from a punctured spleen. Having done their best in the ED, they decide to send your upstairs for surgery with Crocket.

Once you're going to surgery, Miss Goodwin tells Maggie and the doctors to call PD and specifically ask for Intelligence, since you were friends with the unit. As the cops get there, one stands out: Jay Halstead. He's frantic, devastated-looking, just completely lost, and desperate to hear more news about your condition. No one really understands why he is reacting like that, but all of them do share the fear of losing a great friend. Voight's giving out assignments to the team, so Jay knows that that's when he needs to speak up.

"Um, sarge?" All eyes are on him. "If you and the team don't mind running one man short today... I was hoping that I could, um, stay here with- with her?" Hank just stares at him, unlike everyone else — who are shocked — the older man's focus is on his detective's eyes, on the way he was so distraught from the moment they got the call about (y/l/n). That was the behavior, the look, of a terrified man. And, as everyone there knew, Jay Halstead — the freaking war vet — wasn't one to get scared easily. "(y/n) and I-"

"It's fine. No need to explain. You should stay here, Jay. Let us know, in case anything changes. And we'll catch the son of a bitch." He said firmly, making Jay feel as appreciative as ever, and, also, sending an implicit message to all the other members of the unit, one that said: we work this with all we got right now, for (y/n), and for Jay, no questions asked.

After the officers left the hospital, there was still a big commotion from everyone who stayed, because it was one of their own up there in the or. But, surpassing everyone else's, was Will's surprise by how distraught Jay looked, especially considering how his little brother wanted to stay at the hospital, instead of going to find who hurt you. So he comes to confront the detective about it. "So... You and (y/n) are a thing?" Will asked, trying to understand. Since Jay just nodded his head, he decided to push a little further: "And... Were you ever planning to tell me? What the hell, man?"

"Will, I-"

"She's one of my best friends, Jay! Not to mention the fact that I'm the doctor who oversees her work here!"

"Will you put it down?" Jay pleaded with his brother, motioning him to a more reserved corner of the waiting room. "I know, okay? I know. And I'm sorry if it upsets you, man, I really am. But this could've blown her career. That's why we hadn't told you yet." It was clear that Will didn't exactly like his brother's explanation, but he knew it was true.

"Just... How long?"

"Um, about six months?"

"Six months?!" The doctor yelled in shock, then repeated it in a lower tone. "But, six months?"

"Yeah, I know it's a lot of time keeping you in the dark, Will. But, trust me, we weren't thrilled about it. And we were hoping to tell you soon. I swear." Jay said, and his brother could, once again, see it was the truth.

"So, that means that when you started seeing each other she was still finishing med school?"

"Yeah, that's right. Which was, like, the main reason for us to keep it under wraps. An intern dating the attending doctor's little brother? Wouldn't look good."

"That's true..." At that point, Will took another look at his brother. Jay looked so worried and scared, even while trying to hide it. "So, uh, you guys are serious?" That question got a little smile out of the detective.

"Yes, we are. I know that it is new for you... But, I love her, Will. I really do." He took a moment to breathe, not being able to hold back some tears this time. “And, I can’t lose her. I just can’t.”

“Jay…” Will started saying but didn’t quite know how to continue. What could he possibly say to comfort his brother right now? “We just… We just gotta stay hopeful, okay? (y/n) is a really tough person and Dr. Marcel is a great surgeon, you know it. She is gonna pull through.”

A lot of disquieting hours later Crocket finally comes out of the surgery, just to be met by a very worried hospital staff and an on-edge Jay Halstead.

"Where is sh- How is she? Is (y/n) okay? Can I see her?" The detective hovers, not even taking a breath.

"Wow! Uh, you gotta calm down a little, buddy."

"Don't give me that crap! Just- just tell me how she is!" Jay shouts again, not giving a damn about what anyone was thinking. You were the only thing on his mind right now.

"Alright. But try to keep breathing, okay?" To that, the other man didn't even bother to answer. "Okay, um, it was a very complicated surgery, I had to do a lot of cleaning and moving around to get to the worst parts and-"

"Can you please just cut to the part where you tell me if she's okay? No offense, but you can fill me in on the details later." Jay stated nervously. It wasn't just that he wanted to know what was the result of all those hours in the or, but, also, because Jay knew he wouldn't understand half of what Connor was saying, even with the simplified language. You would. But not him.

"Right. Okay. She's, um, she's okay for now. We'll need to monitor her on an hourly basis, though." By that point, the surgeon could already see the relief on both Halsteads' faces, so he went on. "We controlled the bleeding, but, with all the blood loss," he stopped to take another look at the detective, "I'm afraid," another pause, because, sure he had delivered this kind of news before, but this time it was a lot harder, because those people were his friends. And, what they had just lost, he had just lost too, in a way, "we couldn't save the baby."

"The baby?" This time he got an answer from both brothers.

"Uh, uh... You, uh, you didn't know she was pregnant?" Crocket asked, kind of already guessing the answer while sharing a look with Will.

"Oh my God..." It was all the youngest Halstead managed to let out. Seeing how his brother was unable to react any further, Will decided to step up and ask the tough questions.

"So, um,  if everything goes well from now on, you think that (y/n/n) will make a full recovery?"

"Ahhh, yes, actually. She was in great health, so, after making it through, uh, through the night, she shouldn't have any major issues." At that point, Marcel himself was trying to be as objective and as doctorish as possible, in order not to make things worse for the man who had just heard that he lost a child he didn't even have a chance to wait for.

"So, is it, um- is it possible that she didn't know about the pregnancy yet?" But, damn it, Will just kept asking all the impossible questions.

"Uh... It is, actually. Very possible." Hearing that, the detective immediately glued his eyes on him. "We estimate that the fetus was about seven weeks. It's very common that women on birth control haven't found out about it at that point." As neither Halstead said anything, Marcel continued, "well, she's up in the ICU now and in and out of consciousness but, if you want, you can see her for a few minutes."

Hearing that, the detective came out of his haze and said: "Yeah, I wanna see her!"

A few hours later, as Will Halstead gathered his things after finishing his shift, he decided to go check on you but got surprised when he realized that his brother was still there, in the waiting room. "Jay, what are you still doing here?"

"I'm waiting," he said simply.

"Jay." Will called again, "you can't do this, you need to go home, get some sleep, eat…"

"I'm not leaving her alone."

"She's not gonna be alone, Jay." Not getting any response, Will decided to lead with something else. "You know, Voight called Goodwin and said that they're hitting a lot of walls in the (y/l/n) investigation…" Measuring his brother's reaction, Will continued: "Maybe they'd have better luck working with the whole team…"

"Yeah, you're probably right. Tomorrow I'll tell Voight that I want in on the investigation." Jay said, not making any sign of wanting to leave.

"Jay, you can't work tomorrow after staying here the whole night!" Seeing his little brother still not intending to leave, he threatened, "if you don't go home right now, I'll call Voight myself and tell him that you're in no shape to work-"

"Oh, c'mon! You're gonna do that!"

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," Will said, looking as serious as they get. "Look, Jay, you know she's in good hands here. And, whatever happens, you'll be the first to know, I've made sure of it."

"But-"

"But nothing, Jay! It's time to go, come on!" Will pressed so much that Jay resigned himself to do as his brother told him.

For almost a week, you stayed in the ICU. For almost a week, Jay Halstead passed by Med on his way to work and on his way home from work.

Once you were moved to a room, Jay started feeling like he could finally breathe again, even though there was now the baby that someone had still to tell you. And, after chatting with Will and Crockett, Jay had already decided he was gonna be the one to deliver the news to you. So, one day, after Intelligence had already caught the drug dealers that were running away when they hit you, Jay asked Voight for the afternoon off to take you home from the hospital.

When you were at your place, you asked Jay what was going on: "Hey, you didn't say a word on the way here, is anything besides the fact that I just spent almost two weeks in the hospital and that everyone found out about us wrong?"

"Let's sit down for a minute, babe."

The minute he said that, you knew there was something really wrong.

"Okay, you're scaring me…" You said while sitting down on the couch.

"I just- I have something important to tell you," and, like that, Jay proceeded to tell you the worst thing you ever heard. It's not like you'd been planning on becoming a mother or anything like that anytime soon but it was still a possibility that was brutally taken away… You and Jay cried together for the first time and, consoling each other, you felt your relationship growing stronger. 

So much so that after some time you could start talking about the future that both of you foresaw with one another and, even though nothing was completely decided, there was one thing you knew for sure: as long as you were together, you could face anything.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

What if Tommy had a box? A little box, maybe a shoe box or maybe even a cigar box, of things of his mother's. He talks about how terrible his father was, but what if his mother left? What if she left and didn't feel safe enough to take Tommy with her? Or that she didn't feel like she could support him? Or that she was broken and the only way to survive was to leave, even if she had to break her own heart and leave Tommy behind?

And Tommy has a box of her.

She's out there somewhere. Tommy hasn't looked her up. He's scared to. He has his father's name. He knows what his father was like. He doesn't want to find her if there's a possibility that seeing him might bring back all that trauma for her. He doesn't want to find her in case someone catches wind of where she is; if his father somehow finds where she is because he went in search of her.

But he has this box.

It's not a big box. As I said before, maybe a shoebox or an old cigar box. It has her name on it.

And when Buck finds it in Tommy's closet while helping Tommy clean his house, he gets curious and asks Tommy about it.

And.

And Tommy sees that box.

And he smiles.

And he sits down on his bed. And he pats the space next to him. And Evan sits there with the box and hands it to Tommy. And Tommy tells Evan fondly, "This is all that I have left of my mom."

And he opens the box. Maybe he pulls off the lid. Maybe he unlatches the top. But he opens it and what he has is basically nothing.

It was whatever he could save from his father when his dad trashed, burned, and dumped anything that had to do with Tommy's mother. It was a photo or two of his mother when they were young - maybe a small Tommy, a little big for his age even then, posing on a peer with a mother who looked like him.

Same chestnut brown curly hair, if a little golden from the sun, if a little longer. Same blue eyes. Same tall build. Even some of the angles of the face reflect in Tommy's. Same crinkle-nosed smile, even. Hugging Tommy as they laughed together.

Another photo was of them hiking somewhere. His mother helping a little, chunky toddler Tommy walk over a small stream.

There were little notes - "I love you" and "Have a good day" and "Miss you, Tomcat". Things Evan had only seen in other people's lunches - little lunch notes.

There was some sort of decoder ring from a cereal that Buck couldn't place, and Tommy confessed he didn't really remember why the ring was in there, but he knew it was important.

There was a lighter - the one his mother used despite the fact that his mom kept telling Tommy she was going to quit, she swore she would.

And there was a bigger note.

A goodbye.

I wish I could take you. I wish I was braver. I wish I was stronger. I love you, Tomcat. One day, I'll come get you. I want to. Be a good boy for me.

Mama

Tommy was maybe five when she left. She never came back. Tommy didn't feel like he held up to that standard of "Good Boy" while she was gone - he found himself increasingly becoming what he hated out of survival in that home with his father. At work in the army. At the station with Gerrard.

Tommy wasn't sure he felt up to that standard even now.

But his mom had been a coward.

She had left him.

And he still loved her.

So, maybe she'd still love him despite needing to unlearn a lot of terrible things; needing to work on himself to get back to being someone he liked; someone he felt proud of, even if that pride felt fleeting most of the time.

Buck doesn't ask Tommy if he wants to reach out to her. He sees this strange reflection of a box and talks about the baby boxes his sister has and Daniel has, but he doesn't. Not with his parents, at least. His baby box is the postcards he sent to his sister for seven, eight years.

And he couldn't send them to her at her house for fear of Doug finding them and tossing them out.

And he didn't interact with her much outside of that despite wanting to talk to her every day because he didn't want Doug to find out and hurt her.

But he was at least able to send her those cards.

And they both sit there.

With the box full of sparse memories.

With the heaviness of love still so vividly alive even without much contact, if any.

And maybe Evan puts a hand on Tommy's shoulder and pulls him close.

And maybe Tommy rests his head on Evan's shoulder.

And maybe Evan leans his head on Tommy's.

And Evan tells Tommy that he hopes it's safe for her to reach out someday.

And Tommy says he hopes so too.

[vixenobrian]

Seeing Ghosts

This is the first fic I've written here, so I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

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

"Bradley honey, I'm home!"

No answer.

I sighed, setting down the groceries on the island countertop. I knew he was home, the Bronco sitting in the driveway was a clear indication of that, but I also knew why I had received radio silence.

"How was Mav?" I asked, almost scared of the answer myself.

"Mav's fine hun." Bradley retorted. He must have been upstairs in the bedroom, hiding away from me. I understood how hard this must have been on him, but not seeing my husband run down the stairs and greet me with a kiss when I walked through the door still kind of hurt my feelings. Still, I knew how important his space was after his visits.

"How are you bubs?" I called back. Nothing.

Mav had been in and out of the hospital for months now, more and more parts of his body slowly giving way. For a man who wasn't supposed to live past his 30s, everyone was certainly surprised to see it was in fact old age that did him in. Recently though, it was his brain that was going, and this seemed to be the hardest on everyone.

Bradley had been struggling, badly. Between his parents and Ice, Mav was the only one he had left, and to see him slowly slipping away, losing both his body and mind at the same time? Bradley had barely been able to stand it. Each night he would come home after visiting, crawl into bed, and simply lay his head on my chest and cry. I really wasn't sure what else to do at this point, other than be there for him.

I sighed, grabbing the fancy bottle of wine I picked up from the grocery store, before heading upstairs. We both needed a pick me up, and what better way than a good wine, and a home-cooked meal.

"Roos, darling," I called, slightly pushing open the door to our bedroom. I vaguely caught a glimpse of his figure, but I pushed right past it, wanting to grab the things I knew he needed and was probably avoiding. When he got like this, he tended to neglect his medicine, and I knew if I took a glance at him, I would have too. I grabbed the bottle off of the bathroom counter, seeing it right next to his spread-out shaving kit. I pushed back into the bedroom, finally looking him in the eyes.

"Roos, I have a- oh God!"

Rooster sat on the edge of the bed, his big broad shoulders slumped over in defeat. I could tell he had been crying by the dark red circles around his eyes, but none of this is what concerned me. Above Rooster's top lip laid no mustache, something he had worn with pride for years. He always considered it his best feature and took meticulous care in grooming it. I had never even seen him without it. I knew something had to have been terribly wrong.

I sat down the wine on the dresser, my excitement fleeting with the bottle, before reaching for his face. I brought my legs over him, straddling his lap, before taking his face into both of my heads. Immediately, I began to wipe his tears, while simultaneously peppering kisses to his cheeks.

"Roos, honey, what happened?"

"He called me Nick again."

My heart sank, pulling him fully into my embrace. I felt tears start to fall from my own eyes and the boy beneath me began to sob, shaking in my embrace. His hands clenched the back of my shirt, as I attempted to comfort him in his sorrows.

"Bradley, I am so sorry," I said. I felt guilty. I felt anger toward Maverick, even though I knew none of it was his fault. Still, he had hurt Bradley, my Bradley, and the anger that came with that radiated through me. I took a deep breath, trying to push these emotions down.

"I just want him to see me" He whimpered into my shoulder. My hand found the nape of his neck, slowly playing with his hair there. It was his comfort spot, and I felt him slowly relax into me, letting all of his body weight fall freely as if we were being combined into one. I let him lay here for a few minutes, switching between playing with his hair and rubbing his back, before slowly backing away, and once again taking his face into my hands.

"Bradley, honey, I am so sorry that happened to you, but I need you to know, no matter what happens, Maverick loves you so much sweet boy," I comforted, "and on top of that, I love you so much. So no matter what, you are loved, Bradley."

He pulled me in the back of my neck, planting a sweet kiss right on my lips. The lack of hair felt foreign to me and caught me off guard. I pulled away, still holding his face in my hands, when I noticed his cheeks turning a color red.

"So, how bad is it?" He asked genuinely, causing me to chuckle.

"You are still the most handsome man in the world Bradshaw," I told him genuinely, "but how long before it grows back?"

[marieracingteam]

The fear of a Lilybug – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | series

word count: 2763

summary: The story behind Lance's bike accident.

Vacations are for relaxing and sunbathing and being at home with the family. Vacations should never be for being scare and alone in a hospital. Lucky for her, she was never those things for a long time when her family was there.

Right now, nevertheless, Lily was scare and alone, she was inconsolable. Sobs so strong that left her shaking and aching.

One nurse was holding her as they waited for someone to come get her and her kind words were falling on deaf ears.

“I want to go with my mom! I want to see Lancey!” she screamed again. 

The waiting room was almost completely empty as they waited for her mom to come out again. However, her little screams filled all the space. The echo of the silence that followed making her scream louder.

Her mom had been going in and out of the emergency room, her heart torn between her daughter and her injured fiancee. While she was inside, a nurse had been kind enough to stay outside with the little girl. But Lily wasn't happy with that arrangement anymore.

“I am right here, baby” her mom said, running out of the emergency room, probably having heard her cries from inside.

“I want to see Lancey!” she cried again, even if she was in her mom's arms now.

She had been scared and nervous since the moment of the accident that afternoon, even more so when Lance started bleeding and complaining of severe pain.

And if that were not enough, since they arrived at the hospital she could no longer see the man and barely see her mother either.

“Lancey is inside, baby. The doctor is taking good care of him” her mom explained as best as she could. 

Her little legs trashed around at that answer. Her mother then stopped stroking the girl's hair to hug her tighter, preventing her from escaping from her arms.

They still did not know much about the extent of the man's damage, and although it was not dangerous, it was damage that he could not afford so soon before the start of the season.

It was obvious that his wrists were bad, but they still didn't know if he would need surgery on them. Furthermore, the man was in so much pain that they had to put him on a lot of medication. Between all that and the people who kept coming in and out of the room, the woman thought that the best thing for the girl was not to have to see any of that.

Now, seeing her, she didn’t know if that was the right thing to do. 

Neither one of them expected that day, a day that should have been one of relaxation before they went back home from their vacation, to ended up like it had, as a terrible, horrible, long day.

Stupid bike, she thought, and maybe even stupid Lance for wanting to teach Lily how to ride one in the sloping and bumpy street instead of on their patio, where grass would have save their fall.

“I have to go inside for a bit again, baby. But I will come back very soon” the woman said seeing her phone ring. “Lawrence is flying here and in a little while you will be able to see Lance. It's all right, baby, we just have to wait a little longer. Why don’t you sleep for a little?”.

The girl tried not to fall asleep. Even if she was completely exhausted. If it weren't for her nerves, Lily would have already fallen asleep hours ago.

It had been a long day. They had spent the entire morning at the beach and Lance had tired her out by constantly throwing her into the water whenever she asked. Then, when they were supposed to lay down to rest, she asked her mother to help her read her new book. Finally, when they should have been getting ready for an early dinner, Lance had suggested renting some bikes and teaching the girl a little on her last day of vacation.

However, no matter how much she fought against sleep, it finally overtook her, making her fall asleep in a hard, cold plastic chair.

When Lily next woke up, she was sleeping in a very well known arms. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know who he was. She could recognize him by the strong smell of his cologne and the always gentle touch of his hands in her hair.

“Good morning, princess Lily” the man said before she opened her eyes.

“Good morning, king Flower” she said back snuggling in the man's arms.

However, the happy feeling blossoming in her tummy died when she finally saw where she was. Still in the waiting room of a hospital in a country she barely knew.

“Lancey!” she cried sadly. Tears quickly coming back to her eyes when she remembered the man she loved deeply falling just before her eyes.

“Sh, Lily, don't cry” Lawrence said, hugging her closer to his chest.

When she really looked at him, Lily found out her Flower didn't look like the king he always was. His suit was wrinkled and half put and his hair was disheveled. He had dark shadows under his eyes and looked a little tired and a little sad.

Just like Lily felt.

“Lance is fine, Lily. He just needed a little fixing, but now it is done. We will see him very soon” he promised.

Just beside them, her mom slept in a ugly chair like hers with her head resting on Lawrence's shoulder. Even while sleepy, Lily could see her frowning as she held her fiance's phone in her hand.

When Lawrence moved to hold Lily's body better, she unconsciously touched the phone's screen, letting Lily see the picture Lance had as a screensaver. She had seen it before a lot of times on his phone and she could remember that day vividly. It was taken on her last day of kindergarten while she was wearing a costume like her teacher had asked them.

Lance has found it and bought it last minute –even if she already has a few ready to be worn. It was a complete winner when Lily saw the red fabric with black dots.

He had insisted on taking a lot of pictures of that day as her mom did. Her on the stage, her with her new diploma, her doing her little dance… His favorite, however, was the one they had taken at home before they left, with her in her mom's arms wearing her Lilybug’s costume before becoming a “big girl ready for school” like she had claimed.

Lance had made that picture his screensaver that day and it hadn't changed since then.

“Baby” her mom called her as soon as she woke up, opening her arms for her when she saw the girl awake too.

Since her seventh birthday, Lily had seen that it started to took her mom more effort to pick her up. She was a big girl now anyway, so she understood it. Her mom, however, not so much. She tried holding her still anyway she could, just to convince herself that her baby was still a baby.

“Where is Lancey?” she asked when Lawrence help her into her mom's lap.

“He is with the doctor” her mother explained, stopping to yawn behind her hand “The doctor took him to fix his hands. He will have to wear casts for a few and we will have to help him around the house, but he is very well. He is now waking up, but he was looking forward to seeing you.”

“I am sorry” she said for what could be the thousand time “I am so sorry, mommy”

“It wasn't your fault, baby. And Lance is fine. That street was very steep. We should have gotten off the bikes earlier. It wasn't your fault Lance fell.”

If there was any fault in all that, it was Lance's and the driver knew it. He shouldn't have insisted on wanting to teach the girl so suddenly, much less on streets they didn't know. When Lily finally was able to stay on the bike without the training wheels, the straight street they were practicing on turned into a downhill without the girl knowing how to stop. Lance had obviously lunged to stop her, succeeding before realizing he couldn't stop them both.

Before the medicine kicked in, Lance had been blaming himself for the fall the entire time. He had been lucky to be able to release the girl's bike in time, thus stopping her without having to take the girl to the ground with him.

Now he had not only jeopardized his season, but he had ruined the experience for the girl, scaring her and putting her in danger, like he had sworn never to do.

“Can I see him now?” she begged her mother.

“Very soon, baby. Any minute the doctor will come out for us and we will go and see him” she explained before looking at her father in law.

Lawrence had flown as soon as she called him, leaving everything behind. His mother was doing the same, but her flight would take longer to arrive

 Luckily, the operation had been simple. The best surgeon in the country had performed an initial reconstruction operation and in a few days an athlete specialist would see him again to see what else they could do to ensure the best and quickest recovery.

His return to Formula 1, however, was not a concern for any of them. Although they understood that it was for Lance.

The doctor didn't come for them until almost half an hour later. The anesthesia had worn off enough for the driver to be awake and asking about his family. Still, Lawrence went through first to make sure nothing in the room would frighten the girl, including the man resting inside her.

“Lancey!” the girl shouts, running to the bed when she finally saw him, stopping just before she could touch it. Her mother had warned her that she should not touch the man until he told her to and that she had to be very careful not to hurt him, since he had hurt himself a lot.

Lily already knew the hospitals after her accident and she had always been very good at following what her mother told her, so it was not difficult for her to be obedient.

“My Lily” the man murmured. He still felt tired from the anesthesia and his mouth was so dry that it was difficult for him to speak, even so, none of that stopped him from calling the girl.

He wanted to open his arms to hug her, but his remaining anesthesia prevented him from lifting them.

“How are you, love?” asked her mother when they reached the man's bed.

“Sleepy,” he confessed “but so happy to see my girls”.

“I missed you” Lily whispered.

“So did I, Lilybug. So did I.” he mumbured back, his head falling again in his pillowcase “I'm so sorry I scared you, I'm sorry I didn't…”.

“Shh. It’s ok” her mom stopped him “Do not worry, love. Rest a little longer, we'll be here when you wake up”.

Lance tried to nod, but at that point his eyes closed. “Sleep well, Lancey”.

Lawrence stroked the girl's hair from behind her back, but his gaze was fixed on his son.

“Do you want to sleep a little longer too, baby?” her mother asked.

“Can I draw a picture for when Lancey wakes up?” the girl proposed instead.

“Sure. I'm going to get you something to paint” the man said running out of the room.

The girl's mother stared at the door with a frown still on her face. Lily could immediately see that she was worried like when Lance got into the fast car.

Nevertheless, she shoke the emotion out and send a half smile to the girl before sitting on the couch next to Lance's bed, helping the girl onto her lap.

When Lawrence returned with everything he could find in the gift shop, the girl's mother was asleep again, tired from all the hours spent waiting for the doctors.

Without waking her up, the man helped the girl draw something next to Lance's bed, although he wasn't as focused as he always was. His gaze kept turning to the man.

“Flower, Lancey is fine. My mom says he just needs a little love and some medicine to get well” the girl tried to console him when she saw the sad look on his eyes.

“I know, sweet girl. Sometimes we parents can't help but worry, even when we know everything will be okay.”

“Like when Lancey was so worried when mom and I had the car accident?” the girl asked without taking her eyes off her drawing.

“Yeah, the same. We parents are overprotective of our children like that" the man explained.

When Lily looked up from her drawing, she saw Lawrence looking at Lance again. He was brushing his hair away from his forehead with his fingers just to kiss that place a few times before continuing the combing of his hair.

Lance used to do that to her too when she pretended to be asleep on the couch so he would carry her to bed.

However, he never looked so sad doing so.

Lily asked herself if maybe her Flower was sad because he neither could pick Lance up, like it happened to her mommy.

When she was sick, her mother always wanted to hold her in her arms, even when she could infect her. However, Lance was already too big for his father to be able to hold him in his arms, although that didn't stop him from wanting to do it anyway.

Looking at him, Lily wondered if the day would come when she, too, would be too big for her mother or her Lancey to hold her. It was already starting to cost her mother.

Growing up wasn't so cool, she guessed.

Lance woke up a few hours later. His mother had already arrived and she kept tucking the man in, inevitably waking him up.

“Hello,” the driver murmured when he woke up. All eyes in the room were on him. “You were right, honey, I should have shaved.”

With a smile, the woman helped Lily onto the couch so she could see the man better. “You're very handsome still” she replied, stroking the small beard he had grown while on vacation.

“Yes, you should shave. It is prickly” Lily said.

Lance laughed, immediately complaining about the pain it caused him.

“Then I guess you don't want to kiss me, right? Because I'm very sick and I would really like it” the man pleaded jokingly. His mother scolded him right away, but he had already performed his little trick and the girl was filling his cheeks with kisses.

“You shouldn't have come, I'm fine.” Lance said smiling now at his parents.

“How could we not come, my boy?” his mother answered, tucking him in again. “Your sister is waiting to find out if you have to stay a little longer or not to see if she comes directly here or to Canada.”

“I don't know. With the beginning of the season so close… The surgeon told me that if everything went well I could start recovery…”

“Don't think about the season now, Lance” his father pleaded. “No one but you cares. And you have nothing to worry about. The important thing is that you are well.”

“And you will be. The doctor said so. And I made you a drawing so that you can get better faster” said the girl, interrupting the adults from a very boring conversation.

“Then I'm sure I'll be ready for the season” Lance said, raising his cheek as much as he could so that the girl could kiss it again.

And when the first race of the season arrived and Lance crossed the finish line, before getting out of the car he touched his chest lovingly, where he had hidden the drawing Lily had made in that hospital room. He didn't know if the drawing had brought him luck or not, but knowing that he had so many people supporting him had certainly helped, especially when the finish line seemed further and further away at times.

His father was right, he had nothing to worry about, especially as long as he had them with him.

[villainscharm]

BLOOD AND BONES | davos blackwood

CHAPTER : TWO

MASTERLIST — ONE

paring : davos blackwood x f! original character

summary : davos and celia were faced with an undesirable offer — a difficult decision between their own pride and duties — and a midnight encounter that led to a deep conversation and something more.

a/n : (smut next chapter!)

english is not my first language. all characters are of age unless stated otherwise.

words count : 3.7k

warnings : arrange marriage. light smut (mdni). angry makeout session. implied masturbation. original house/characters. dark theme. mention of death. implied vampire history. religious theme implied.

Morning came and Davos didn't even know. He wasn't sure if it was because of the station of the castle that was hidden amongst the tall trees or the dark curtains that covered the large windows in his chamber. He heard a servant knock upon his doors, alerting him of the breakfast. Quickly, Davos dressed himself properly before exiting his chambers, following the servant along the empty hall.

“Good morning, lord Davos,” greeted Celia. Her tone meant courtesy but her expressions meant unwelcoming. “I take it as you slept well? Since you've just arrived.” Davos' eyes shot her a quick glare, an attempt to warn her of his annoyance, especially this morning. “I couldn't tell when the sun rose. You have a terrible station, my lady,“ Davos replied after sitting down on the opposite side of Celia — only Celia, her brother was nowhere to be found.

“You're giving me advice on architecture now, Davos?” Celia returned his glare, no longer addressing him as lord anymore. Her fork stabbed deep into the meat on her plate. Surprisingly earning an anger out of her pleased Davos as he continued eating with a grin on his face. When he said nothing in response, Celia continued her mumble. “I'm sure Raventree Hall must be astonishing.”

Since the encounter, Davos almost forgot Celia and he were not different in age. Her behavior seemed mature at first, he ventured it was only a facade she put on in front of new people in order to protect herself and her family. Davos learnt that house Lairwyn had lost their late lord and lady when their two heirs were very young, making the responsibility forced upon themselves.

“It is indeed astonishing, lady Celia,” Davos finally responded. “You should see it yourself,” with that Celia’s gaze shot to him instantly, a small curve flashed on the corner of her lips, “If I didn’t know any better I would take it as you’re inviting me to your home, Davos.”

“And do you?” Davos asked, his tone matched her sarcasm. Celia’s eyebrows perked up, urging him to finish his question. “Know better,” his voice low, some might take it as calming but Celia in fact knew better as it was dangerous. With a smirk on her lips, she replied. “Of course I do. After all, I’ve been living for a hundred years,” her tone was mischievous as well as her dark eyes. Celia was aware of what Davos thought of her, she knew of what he had heard about her house and their reputation. Every bloody person in the seven kingdoms knew. She could feel it in her bones ever since their eyes met at the hall of Bloodstone. But she did not care for it. If anything it made her feel above even more.

Davos’ face dropped slightly at her sentence but he took it as her jesting, still he did not trust her so. But before he could respond, the doors of the dining hall opened, presenting the lord of Bloodstone in his usual black attires.

“Do not scare our guest like that, Celia. It is not ladylike,” spoked Carlos as he took his spot at the head of the table. There was no food in front of him, only a goblet of wine already filled. Davos tried not to be too curious about it, maybe the lord of Bloodstone already broke his fast.

“I've come to consider your terms, lord Davos. Our queen’s terms,” Carlos began, turning Celia and Davos’ attention to himself. “I’ve sent words to her grace this morning. We will pledge our loyalty to her only under one condition,” fingers trailing at the rim of his cup, Carlos could see the curiosity on his sister’s face as they had not discussed this together beforehand. But she made sure to ask about it after the dining was done, just in case Carlos had other plans hidden. “Hopefully her grace is kind enough to oblige.”

“What have you done!” Celia stormed into the library room of Bloodstone, where she sure knew her brother was at. There she found Carlos sitting behind the table, reading some book as if he wasn’t bothered by her presence. A loud thud followed behind as Celia’s fists landed on top of the wooden surface. “I asked you a question, Carlos,” the formality was gone, Celia’s voice filled with burning anger as her brother remained no answer.

It had been a fortnight since the arrival of the queen’s letter — since Rhaenyra sent men from house Blackwood to persuade them into joining her side. After Davos left, Celia tried to have a conversation with her brother about the conditions he had sent for their queen. But it seemed Carlos wasn’t very interested in sharing his plans with her as he kept avoiding his answer. Today Celia finally found out, after old lord Orwyn had accidentally slipped out.

Carlos finally looked up at his sister. His face was blank with expressions and Celia almost didn’t recognise her brother. He wouldn’t do this to her really, would he? “I asked queen Rhaenyra for an offer of marriage to you,” his voice was so calm it was almost scary. Celia’s eyes filled with tears from both wrath and disappointment. Though this matter was expected of her. “You’re aware of what people think of us, Celia. If you expect us to wait for someone to come to our castle and ask for your hand, you are not a very clever Lairwyn,” His voice was sharp, painful but true. Celia was very much aware that no lord in the realm would ever come to Bloodstone and ask for her hand. Even if she was the last woman in the world.

It pained Carlos as well, as a brother he felt terrible for not discussing this with her beforehand, asking of her comfortability. But as the lord of Bloodstone he must act strenuous, earnestly. His voice was softer this time when he explained. “I asked the queen to send word to many houses, to see if any  had responded to the offer. Because we know no one will ever come to our alliance on their own.” For a moment silence filled the air, Celia was struggling to not shed anymore tears and trying to compose herself. Finally she was calm again, a sniff before her voice query. "Has there been any replied?" she huffed out, taking the seat opposite from her brother. Carlos flashed her a smirk before he replied.

"Yes, there has been one."

“Are you mad, uncle?”

Davos' voice shouted, cutting through the air of Raventree Hall. He stood in front of his uncle Samwell, his face red with anger and betrayed. This morning after Davos finished sparring in the training yard, he was summoned to the hall by his uncle. The lord of Raventree Hall was informing his nephew of some good news. One, the queen appreciated the devotation he had done for her fortnight ago, giving her one more noble house on her side. And two, of the betrothal of him and the lady of Bloodstone herself.

“Careful now boy, it is an honour the queen granted us,” Samwell warned sternly, trying to make his hot-headed nephew understand. “It was a request from house Lairwyn. Lord Carlos asked the queen for a marriage offer, her ravens went all across the realm to find her a suitable husband.”

“And so you think it is me?” Davos huffed angrily. He was aware of his duty he needed to perform to his house. Marriage was not always an option for him to decide, but at least he had hoped to choose the bride by himself.

“I've come to consideration with the lord Carlos himself,” Samwell added. And confusion washed over Davos' face instantly. He saw Carlos and had a discussion with him. Davos wasn't even sure if Celia herself was in on it. “You have seen her, she is a beautiful young lady with a good family name.” Beautiful, yes but deadly as well. “Good family name? Have you forgotten what we call them?” Davos' voice was harsh. For he knew Davos grew up with dark rumours of them. The myths and legends of infamous house Lairwyn and their traitorous behavior against their gods.

“It will go against everything we stood for,” Davos tried to reason with his uncle, referring to their religion. House Blackwood had placed their faith with the Old Gods for hundreds of years. An alliance with those who stood on the opposite might not benefit them. “House Lairwyn shares the same faith as ours. Many do not know of it because they were too busy despising them.”

Strangely, it was true. Davos came to an understanding. His house never hated the Lairwyns, if anything they were only afraid of them. Still, it did not change the fact that he would be wed to Celia — the woman with a poisonous tongue.

“As your uncle and the head of house Blackwood, you will do your duty as I command,” and with that Davos was defeated. There was no way out but to accept it. It wasn't like Davos disliked Celia or couldn't stand her. But because he felt like this arrangement would lead them to nothing but a long life of an unhappy marriage. And he would hate to be the reason for it.

After learning of her arranged betrothal to the young lord from house Blackwood, Celia couldn't sleep. Although she and Carlos had come to an understanding of the situation, Celia always knew she had to wed a lord. If not by her choosing then her brother's, he was the lord of Bloodstone after all. Being betrothed to someone who she didn't choose wasn't so bad, but the fact that her betrothed being Davos Blackwood was worse. Of all men in the seven kingdoms, the house that replied to the queen's letter was house Blackwood. Celia didn't hold any grudges towards them or anything. She just found Davos to be somewhat pretentious. His boldness and devotation was nothing to be disliked, as was his good look.

There was no denying of Davos Blackwood’s attractiveness. With his tall and lean posture, the way he carried himself with such proudness. His dark curls and his pretty eyes. If they had met under other circumstances, Celia might have liked him.

Mayhaps, totally.

Hours had passed and Celia’s mind went everywhere but to sleep, insomnia crept up onto her with too much thoughts, so she decided to take her horse to the woods to find comfort amongst darkness.

Celia dropped her feet to the ground when she arrived at her usual spot in the woods, under the largest, tallest tree in her estate. As she was caressing the back of her horse she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. She turned herself around quickly, a dagger in her hand and her eyes fearlessly staring into the dark figure behind the tree. Eventually the figure stepped into the light of moon, revealing himself.

“Davos,” her voice spat, but a relief as she realized it wasn’t someone or something else. “It is late for a lady to be wandering about?” Davos’ tone was a mix of question and statement. Celia couldn’t care if he was asking her out of curiosity or worry, either way she did not want to know. She let out an annoyed sigh before stepping closer to the lord in front. “Were you following me?” her voice stern and her eyes bore deep into his dark ones. Davos didn’t look away, he scoffed in response. “How could I ever know that you’re here?” Despite his annoyance, deep down Davos couldn’t help but worry for her. It wasn’t just any other time, it was midnight. And the sky was as black as her hair, if it hadn’t been for the moonlight, Davos was sure they wouldn’t be able to see each other as of now.

Now, under the soft moonlight Davos could truly see her for the first time. He had never been this close or even alone with Celia. His stay at Bloodstone fortnight ago was only an overnight stay, he didn’t get to spend much time with her. Only if he knew they would be betrothed sometime after, he would have had to try to get to know her. Under the pale moonlight, Davos could see the redness under her eyes. It could’ve been a sign of her sleepless night or maybe that was just how the Lairwyns were built, he bet it was the latter.

“Why are you out here at this time?” his voice was soft and Celia could actually see the worry on his face. He was so handsome, she didn’t even want to admit it but here he was, standing in front of her under the very same tree that gave her comfort, his eyes studying her expressions as he waited for an answer.

“I could not sleep. I suppose you know why,” Celia raised her brows at him for reference while her hand put the dagger back into the sheath on her belt. Davos only nodded in return, his face dropped for he was aware of the reason for their sleepless night. He could see that she was displeased as much as himself. He felt guilty of it. While Celia stepped back before sitting down, leaning her back against the large tree, she invited Davos to take a spot next to her, which he did obediently. They both sat in an uncomfortable silence for sometime before Davos finally spoke up.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything, Davos. We’re to be wed after all,” her voice was bland as well as her face, it sounded bitter — she refused to hold eye contact with her betrothed when she spoke of the matter. She thought it would be better that way.

“My uncle told me that your house is in need of a successor, why must it be you and not your brother?” He was the lord of Bloodstone. Davos thought but did not utter aloud. Celia took a moment to find a proper way to answer, as well as wondering about it herself why it must be her.

“My brother cannot proceed heirs,” she finally answered, her face looking down at her subtly fidgeting hands. “It was a curse I think. Most Lairwyns were born with a curse. But Carlos’ happened twice,” Celia could feel Davos’ gaze on her, he was listening intensely, paying more attention than she would have expected. “Carlos was married two years ago before tragedy took her away,” Davos watched as her eyes saddened, though she tried to remain unbothered. “He loved her so much, he tried everything to take her back.”

And by everything Celia meant it. Every possible way there was to reincarnate his loved one back. Davos wasn’t the type who believed in magic even though he was raised under a family that believed so. But he didn’t argue, he just sat there and listened to his betrothed opening her heart for him.

“Somehow the consequences of bargaining with death had taken every bit of Carlos away — all he held dear. At one point I thought my brother had gone mad. He spoke of a strange horse that looked like it was nothing but bones in our yard, which I have never seen in my entire life. But it was our ancestor's beliefs that the strange horse would only appear to those who had witnessed death.”

Davos listened closely, never dared to interrupt her as he waited for her to finish. He never judged her. And Celia appreciated that he never asked her of their earned reputations, for she did not know how he should react. But Davos has concluded it himself. Lairwyn's myths were only a lore. They did not drink or eat human hearts as they were said to be. Neither were they cruel.

“That day you told your brother we’ve already met, what did you mean?” Davos asked, recalling back to their very first meeting at Bloodstone. “You don’t remember?” Celia turned to face him with a smirk on her lips, she tilted her head slightly, her gaze scanning for his expression. “I was on your horse, before he shook me off.” And Davos suddenly remembered. “You were th—”

“The bat, yes and no, I could only see through his eyes, that's all.” Celia elaborated with a shrug as if it was normal to do so. She could see the confusion in his face before he uttered his confusion out. “You’re a warg?” He had heard of it before, a lore his maester taught when he was young. But never expected to come across them in his lifetime.

“I wouldn’t say that. Bats are our ancient beliefs — hence the sigil — we imitate their ways of living. Therefore they are a part of our soul.” Celia’s explanation had enlightened Davos’ knowledge of the unknowns in this world. What one thought they knew, might not be entirely true.

“I know this arrangement does not please either of us,” Celia started after a quick moment of silence. “But I do hope you know that I have no part in this. It was my brother’s idea. I had no intention to trap or torment you to my name,” her eyes were low as she explained, trying to make the young lord understand that this wasn’t her choice as well. And Davos did in fact understand, he just couldn’t understand why she’d think he blamed her for it.

“I didn’t have a choice either. My uncle only agreed to this alliance because he thought of what your house is holding could strengthen my house,” Davos admitted shamefully. Not only would he take away her happiness and freedom, he also felt terrible that Celia was nothing but a pawn to his house. Surely her house would gain benefits from this alliance as well, but would it be worthy of their despair?

“What my house is holding,” Celia repeated with a scoff, though she wasn’t actually upset with Davos, she was just pitied herself. “Whatever anyone claimed that my house was, was not entirely true,” she turned her head to face Davos once again while she confessed. Davos’ brows immediately frowned in confusion after hearing her words. He said nothing but wait for her to elaborate.

“My ancestors did possess a kind of darkness. They did engage in nefarious customs. And they did feast on people’s blood and hearts. Anything to keep their lives longer than it should be.”

Davos felt his throat go dry, but he tried not to judge her. It wasn’t her fault — it wasn’t her. His dark eyes searched for hers while she tried to avoid him. “Some of us inherited some sort of ability as well as curses, and… some of us weren’t their direct offsprings,” she felt shameful, and expected disgust on Davos’ face. But when she finally met his gaze, she found nothing but sympathy. He felt sorry for Celia, the damage her ancestors had done affected their family line until now.

“Not direct offsprings?“ Davos repeated with curiosity, almost too scared to ask her of it. But eventually Celia told him. “There were those with the same curse as Carlos, and their desperation urged them to do unforgivable things in order to keep the bloodline,” Celia’s gaze dropped to the ground, she considered herself briey before adding, “Carlos and I are one of those,” she gulped, her mouth tasted bitter as she spoke, “that’s why death took our parents away as a payment of their doing.”

She felt Davos’ gaze burn through her, so slowly she turned to meet him, piteous overflowing in her prideful chest — she felt weak.  “I am everything you despise. Everything that would haunt and damn your name,” her voice shook pathetically.

“You take me for a craven, Celia? I have my responsibility and I will noy abandon my duty only because your background offends me,” Davos argued, his tone almost spatting with the feeling of being insulted. Dishonest wasn’t in Blackwood's nature, especially Davos’.

He didn’t remember when his hand went to grip on Celia’s wrist harshly just as of now, but the lady didn’t seem to be in any harm. Almost like she was immune to the tightness of his grip. When he realized, he didn’t let go of her. A silence filled the air as their gaze locked into each other. Before their little spaces between their faces were crushed by an angry hot kiss.

The kiss was harsh and desperate, they couldn’t remember who kissed who first, it didn't matter as it happened now. While Celia’s hand went to pull on the collar of Davos’ tunic to urge him closer, Davos was fighting for dominance as their tongues danced and he eventually won. The next thing they knew was Celia’s settling herself on Davos’ lap, one of her hands found itself in his dark curls while the other placed upon his chest, feeling his heart beated with excitement.

“Gonna rip that out?” Davos muttered with a chuckle, earning a yank in his hair from Celia’s hand.

“Testing me, Davos?”

“I wouldn’t dare, my lady,” a shit-eating grin flashed on his lips, before moving closer to plant open-mouthed kisses to her neck. “This won’t change anything— I still wouldn’t enjoy being your wife,” Celia managed through her panting that was caused by Davos’ burning kisses. Once again, she heard him chuckle into her neck.

“We’ll see about that, my lady,” He said before pulling himself back from the crook of her neck. When his gaze found Celia’s, he could tell that she wasn’t pleased at his interruption, but her pride wouldn’t let her argue. “It’s past midnight now, it'd be best if you go back to the comfort of your shelter.”

Davos explained — with a faint smug on his face — and Celia internally cursed him, as well as herself for letting her emotions get in the way. Abruptly, she stood up from his lap and climbed onto the back of her horse. She didn’t even bid him a goodnight as she left.

As soon as she was back at Bloodstone, beneath the soft of her duvet, she tried to force herself to sleep but the image of Davos and his hot fucking kisses clouded her mind, as she had no other solution but to fill the void he had left and find relief with her own hands.

taglist : @deltamoon666

[alcorian-cycle]

So, I just want to say something real quick about Wilbur Soot and the expectation fans have of all his friends to come out and immediately make statements and drop him. I particularly want to talk about Tommy because i see parallels between his relationship with Wilbur and my relationship with an adult who made me feel responsible for his wellbeing. I am not saying that their relationship is like this, just that based on what we've seen it could be, and we should be prepared to be empathetic and understanding to Tommy in case it is like this.

So some background. Starting at 13 or 14, I had a friend in his thirties who made me feel responsible for his mental health. I won't go into great detail, but I was constantly reassuring him and trying to keep him from killing himself, which was something he gave me multiple scares about. He would disappear and not respond to messages for days or weeks after posting suicide notes on his tumblr... but he was fine every time, just stepping away. Still, it scared me every time, and I felt like I hadn't been doing a good enough job helping him be happy.

I was friends with him from 13 to 16 and I felt responsible not just for his happiness, but his life.

It was so difficult to end that friendship that it took him blocking me multiple times before i could accept that he wasn't my responsibility anymore.

I defended him, let him get away with shit, let him have way more power over my life and beliefs and relationships than he should have. Because i was so toxically attached to him and believed what he told me, I seriously hurt my best friend in the whole world and I will never be able to fully express how sorry I am for it.

I'm saying this because there is evidence that Wilbur and Tommy's relationship contains similar dynamics. Wilbur has said that he relies on Tommy for his mental health. They met when Tommy was, what, 15? That's not healthy. Wilbur is an adult. I've also heard that Tommy has had to talk Wilbur down from suicide. This is extremely similar to what I experienced, and as much as it discomforts me to be seriously speculating about two ccs' relationship off-camera, I can't help but see the strong similarities to my story.

And Shelby's story corroborates this kind of behavior from Wilbur. She also was made to feel like Wilbur relied on her. For Shelby it was about his living situation--she felt like he needed her to take care of him, like he was too traumatized or depressed to take care of his own house and affairs, and if she stopped doing it it just wouldn't get done. And because she is a kind person, she didn't want to leave him like that.

This kind of behavior traps the victim in a relationship with the abuser by making them feel guilty if they try to leave or even distance themselves. It makes the victim feel like they cant hurt or go against the abuser in any way, for fear of blood on their hands, literal or metaphorical. It drives you to defend them, to try to stay by their side even as they prove themselves a terrible person.

So if Tommy isn't immediate and decisive in dropping Wilbur, I think we should be understanding. In these sorts of manipulative relationships, its really hard to speak badly of the abuser, and its hard to accept when others say they're abusive. That's an aspect of the abuse.

It took me until I was 13 to even be consciously aware of my mom doing this to me, and I only became aware of that "friend" doing it when I hadn't spoken to him in years.

This is the sort of thing that is VERY difficult to process and navigate and I think we should give Tommy, and other people close to Wilbur, some grace in navigating it. They should still drop him, but I think we should let them take some time because dropping an abuser who acts like this is very difficult, and they make it so on purpose.

[agerefandomstuff]

Hey, i rq'ed the cg sam hcs, and i loved them!!!! I was wondering if you could do some more cg sam hcs, but for a babyspace little! Have a fantastic day <3

I had writers block for a while so I’m very sorry for getting to this so terribly late. As an apology here’s an entire no-beta Baby!Reader Cg!Sam fic;

Word count: 2248

Title: Finding Comfort in your Role

(I don’t know I might change that title)

The boys come back to the hotel and find you regressed.

Although you’d been regressing around Sam for a while now, it was always in short bursts and he personally had yet to start prepping you beforehand or help you out of anything after. You’d always done that part on your own since this was all brand new to him and it made you both more comfortable if you handled changing into different clothes and diapers until a bit later in his soft launch caregiver trial.

However when the boys came back from their hunt today, you were sat on the motel floor, half undressed, chewing on the remote with that innocent fuzzy look in your eyes Sam was beginning to find familiar. He knew you'd talked about unintentionally regressing before but he still assumed it wasn't like a… demon possession or something. It didn't just suddenly happen, catching you off guard, did it? Surely you always felt it coming on..?

While he had a ton of his own questions rattling around in his head–along with all of Dean’s mildly rude ones–he didn't have any good immediate answers. But researching couldn't be his number one priority. That was you. And also getting that nasty remote out of your mouth. Even though no one other than his brother had touched it since they’d been here, they didn't exactly have a reputation of checking into the cleanest of places. But even if they did, who knew what was on Dean’s hands?

“Hey baby…” Sam dropped his bag of equipment on the floor and rushed over to you, gently tugging the remote from your hands and out of your mouth while you were luckily distracted by the excitement of seeing him come back. Tossing it up on the bed and away from your eager little hands, he uses his strength to his advantage by scooping you up under the armpits and setting you on his hip with a continued coo. “Oooh up.. there you go…Hi, baby.. Hi.. What happened?” He asks in a deceptively light and playful tone, not wanting to potentially scare you by talking in the same overly gruff tone Dean did when he was confused with concern. You didn't respond in any real words, only giggles and confusing garbled babbles.

Dean finally follows Sam inside, locking the door behind him and setting their weapon bags away in the closet where you wouldn't be able to get to them as easily if you suddenly decided Sam’s appearance was no longer interesting and fun to make noises at.

“Hm? Can you tell me what happened, pumpkin?” Sam asks again, hoping maybe since you had responded–as childish and incomprehensible was it was–that perhaps you might miraculously get a real word out of your lips to give him a hint of what caused you to regress. That plan is quickly given up on along with his attempts to put your jacket back on.

While briefly glancing around for your missing sock he finds his duffle bag of clothes strewn about the floor. no doubt something you had gotten into.“Oh… that's…I see you found.. my clothes.. instead of your own…” he tugs your jacket off your arm and lays it beside the wet remote while he calls out to his brother who was already making his way over, “Um.. Dean? Could you grab–”

“On it.” Dean answered, knowing his little brother well enough to already be looking for your bag, having the same thought that you must have been looking for something earlier.

As he searched you’d began to play with Sam’s hair, tugging on it slightly then giggling when he would try to gently pry your hand away with quiet complaints of pain.

Finding your bag slipped down between the wall and the side of the bed, Sam comes over to search for the supplies he assumed you had been searching for with a rapidly regressing mind. He was hoping there would be something inside you could occupy your busy little hands or mouth with that might save his poor scalp from more pain as you continued to tug on his hair.

“So are you going to answer any of my questions about what's going on or at least give me an idea of what I might be looking for?” Dean asked, helping pull things out from the bag since Sam was struggling to do so while holding you and trying to fight your surprisingly persistent hands. Now Dean has no issue going through someone else's belongings if it's necessary… (or if it’s fun), but he really wasn't sure what he was supposed to be getting out of your bag. He could guess it was something you owned that would relate to whatever… relationship you and his little brother had but…he had been purposely trying to keep himself a bit in the dark on that one so he needed a little direction for his search.

“Um..” Sam started out, unsure himself of what exactly it was that you might bring or if you had even brought anything at all. “A… pacifier? Or maybe those… key– the plastic key things? The chewing things?”

“Teethers?” Dean asked while he attempted to decipher his brother’s inexperience while tugging out more clothes and a whole lot of nothing else and–teethers? Pacifiers? What? Sure he made the guess, it was his first thought! And it made sense with the context clues and the way you had been chewing on the remote and how your fingers are now in your mouth—! Man. He doesn't get this. But whatever, that doesn't matter. He's just gotta help Sammy because boy does he look like a fish out of water.

“Yeah! Teethers! They keep dirty remotes out of mouths and little baby fingers away from adult teeth. Don't they, baby?” Still trying to keep his voice light and gentle and half talking to you more than Dean, Sam begins tugging your fingers away from your mouth. Shushing your whines as said fingers catch on teeth that just didn't seem to understand that they could fix the issue by simply opening up your mouth a bit wider—

“There isn't anything in here for that. Are you sure you packed it?”

“Packed it? I only packed my bag!”

“Why wouldn't you pack a baby’s bag, idiot?”

“It was an adult’s bag at the time, not a baby’s, so I wasn't asked to, asshole!” Sam argues back, starting to rock and bounce you in an effort to distract you from your hand and their bickering. “So no I didn't pack any teethers or stuffed animals or diapers or—”

Dean’s head whipped up and his stomach dropped to the floor as they both seemed to come to the same realization. Frozen in place they had to pry their gazes away from each other’s to you as if expecting to find that you’d had an accident that very moment. Their eyes slowly, in comedic sibling tandem, drag down your frame resting on his hip.

You didn't.. look.. wet…? At least… not this moment you didn’t.

“Are…they.. necessary..?” Dean asks slow and hesitant, unsure if he was even allowed to ask or know about that kind of information about you. After all, he wanted to stay in the dark about some things! Out of respect! And because he really didn't need to know everything about his brother’s relationship– the same way Sammy didn't need to know everything about his!

“Uh..” Sam clears his throat, trying to remember if you'd ever used them around him before or perhaps mentioned whether you had a history with it or not… but all he knew is you wore them sometimes. That was a part of your before and after prep that he didn't have a hand in yet. He hadn't been given the rundown! No tutorial! But also.. he hadn't ever really asked about it. He was going to… eventually… It's just.. there were so many things he was getting used to with this and he was getting a bit overwhelmed with researching it—because who knew there were so many subgenres and conflicting information– and h-he just hadn't gotten to it all yet…

He looked back up at Dean, visibly tense and uncomfortable. “I dont… know…”

Eventually, after some bickering, Sam sent Dean to the store to pick up diapers. And whatever other supplies he would inevitably decide were “ultimately necessary for a baby’s survival.” Regardless of whether they actually were or if he was just grabbing stuff. But he couldn't complain too much since out of the two of them Dean did unarguably have more experience with kids. From raising his younger brother, to briefly having a family, and even the shapeshifter baby, his knowledge was one Sam was going to have to just appreciate and learn from. When he wasn't able to get direct understandable feedback from you anyway—the actual baby in question. Little coos and babbles didn't exactly help let him know if he should let you sit on his brother’s bed or his while he waited for Dean to come back with padding.

Leaning on the side of caution, he chose to lay you down on a towel he laid over Dean’s bed, something he's sure he’ll get an earful about later if you do pee.. but it would be better than if it was his bed. In the few moments he left you alone on the bed to grab one of his shirts off the floor, you’d mysteriously managed to make your second sock disappear into the wind and you’d tugged your current shirt over your head in an attempt to… suffocate yourself or something? He could only guess the reason. As he helped take off your shirt restraint he couldn't help but keep thinking; How were you doing that? You were so quick with it, it's like he couldn't take his eyes off you without another clothing issue arising.

Hopefully that would change after he changed your clothes. After folding your shirt and tucking it away in your bag he fights your squirming legs and ferocious little feet to get your pants off so he can check for any potential damage. Once you were down to your luckily dry underwear he helped you sit up, only to struggle getting your arms into the sleeves of his shirt. Considering you weren’t doing a whole lot of actual fighting against him, this task was surprisingly difficult for Sam.

With great effort he finally managed to slip his shirt over your head and down your torso. You flopped back on the bed, attempting to take a foot with you and whining when you couldn't bring it all the way to your mouth. The action made him laugh and lightened his mood since while you seemed to not be very aware of everything at the moment, not taking in how stressful everything was with the boys’ bickering, not having any supplies available, him not knowing specific and kind of necessary details, he was. He was taking in it all.

You weren't in the headspace to worry about any of that. You were too little. He was the one who had to worry about it and take care of it. He got to handle it. He was taking on the issues that… honestly? Really weren't even that big of a deal. A missing sock and getting your hair pulled by a baby were just things parents dealt with... and.. that's… what he was there for. Wasn't it..? It’s what you needed from him. To worry about things you were too small for and take care of them until you were able to again. And really.. no one’s lives were at stake right now. This wasn't a life or death or a monster hunt. It was just caring for you. Baby you.

Smiling down softly at you, you dropped your foot as you seemed to feel how he was looking at you differently. It was less worry and unease. He wasn't still deciding if he was uncomfortable with the situation or like he was afraid he might not be following the rules of a game right. He was simply content… content with enjoying your contentment. Even if you weren't in the headspace to soak in that information with as much acknowledgement as you would a different time, you could still feel the atmosphere change which left a growing smile on your face. Sam huffed out another small laugh seeing such a cute little look coming from you and couldn't resist leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

It had finally clicked in his mind what kind of caregiver he was.

“Little angel..” he whispers softly, petting a big hand over your belly then combing your hair with his fingers to be a little less messy. “I got you. We’ll get you padded up and play a bit then we’ll set you up to take a nap. Since.. daddy can only guess the last time you slept well.”

He was yours.

He was your parent when you needed it.

He was there to take care of you and handle the little issues he could. Missing socks included.

The next few minutes waiting for Dean to come back were mostly quiet, only soft giggles combined with Sam’s little sweet words as he cooed at you as you played with anything he would let you. Which ended up being mainly his fingers and shirt sleeves… but he also let you play with his hair as long as you didn't tug too much.

[wyvernest]

Miguel vs very angry reader? Miguel is usually the one who is grumpy and broody but for a change has to deal with his usually cheery lover being unbelievably Moody and angry!

lo siento, mi alma

pairing: miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader

warnings: angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending, miguel kinda being a dick

summary: coming to miguel for comfort leads to a fight, his duty coming right between you

Usually, you would feel so happy and excited about visiting Miguel at HQ. You'd find yourself smiling so stupidly on the way there, surprised with your reflection in a nearby skyscraper, instantly reminded that you're so in love with him. 

But today wasn't one of those days.

Today, your monthly hormonal storm has decided to mess with your mood and patience in a way you weren't looking forward to. Usually, you'd feel more clingy and emotional, yearning to be close to your boyfriend, to be held by him, to cry in his arms because you were out of your favourite snacks. 

But then again, today remains odd among the usual habits.

Today, you felt anger boil in your throat, ready to burst at the slightest inconvenience. And plenty have already tested it. Miles scared the crap out of you by swinging an inch from hitting you, right before scurrying away with an echoed "Hello!" that rang so stridently in your ears. Peter also intercepted your wish-to-be-hidden trip to HQ, unsolicitedly informing you about the last thing Mayday ate, how cute she looked, and how she's been learning to use her webs with more agility. You held back your bubbling nerves, deep down knowing he only meant well.

Finally inside Miguel's extensive laboratories, you look up to spot the platform he usually inhabited empty. 

Great. Fucking hell.

And because expecting something good to happen and then having it snatched from you like a chocolate from a toddler makes you unfathomably angry, you feel hot tears sting your eyes.

You had wanted the comfort of his embrace so bad. It was the only thing that could've soothed your mood. So you found a flat surface to sit on and wait, probably one of the many machines and equipment he spent his whole time creating and testing instead of giving you the attention and love you craved so much, you thought.

It wasn't long before a long, sharp, red blade cut through the fabric of space, followed by the familiar silhouette of your beloved boyfriend. His mask dissolved away, revealing a terribly tired face, hair messed up and cheekbone slightly mauve with a forming bruise. 

He sensed you in the room, not bothering to offer you anything more than a turn of his head in your direction to meet your eyes before sprinting to his platform. Layla also glitched into the room, relaxed as usual. 

You squint, making out "canon divergence RESOLVED" on one of his screens, some hope blooming in your heart at the thought that maybe now he'd have time for you. But before you can inhale to speak, he opens up another portal.

You can't believe it. He didn't even speak to you, like you aren't his heart and soul, as he had told you so many times. 

So you snap.

"Miguel!" You shout, quick and harsh, wanting him to feel a fraction of the frustration that's gutting you right now.

He doesn't flinch.

"I'm busy. Wait for me at home." He speaks with authority and the confidence of a man who knows it wouldn't take much to make you listen to him.

You feel your pulse quicken, heart stuttering with anger and bewilderment.

"That's how much my emotions matter to you?" You shout up to him after a second of weighing his words. "That's the support and consideration I get?" Your voice cracks and you hate that he now knows how affected you are.

"I'm not even a fucking priority at this point. I'm at the bottom of the list."

"I can't deal with this right now. I still have the damage the last anomaly has done to deal with." He raises his voice at you, the words vibrating through the laboratory.

"So I'm on hold until Miguel O'Hara is fucking available? Will you also notify me so that I can present myself back to HQ, sir?" Your tone is dripping venom, sarcasm and sour tears threatening to burst into streams down your cheeks. You do, consider, in the back of your mind, that you're exaggerating. But the way he dismissed you is not an easy thing to get over. No greetings, no emotion, no nothing.

Just "I'm busy.".

No excitement to see you after a mission.

How are you any different than any other spider-person bothering him then? Where is the love he has for you when he's working?

He grinds his jaws together, not wanting to say something he doesn't mean, that he'll regret later. He knows you're particularly sensitive today, but he can't allow himself to soften right in the middle of a job. It's not how he works. He gets distracted.

"I said go home, cariño." He doesn't even face you as he speaks, as if you're a child throwing a tantrum.

You feel small. Irrelevant. He isn't even touched.

"Oh I will." You yell through a sob, your pain arrowing right through his chest.

"Only not to your home." 

You storm out without looking behind. Your ego soared and anger kept rising to your senses. 

You knew you wouldn't break up, or even move out. You just wanted him to feel something. 

You wanted to see him want you. To see him make the slightest gesture towards wanting to keep you by his side.

But the doors closed shut behind you, and you found yourself walking slower, just to give him some time to run after you.

He didn't.

You did your best to hide your teary eyes and runny nose, not wanting to deal with any unwanted attention, any questions, anyone knowing that you and Miguel just had a fight.

You didn't want anyone else's attention but his, and it killed you to acknowledge that.

You got home, finally breaking into tears. You let yourself fall face down into his pillow, still seeking the comfort he never gave you. The smell of him, the imagined, simulated warmth of his embrace.

He had a duty, you know he did. You just wanted to be more than a chore to him. You wondered if this relationship really was for you, head spiralling into the hormones, stress, and wrath. 

You, a needy, extremely loving girlfriend, with a man like him, with a full time job that entire universes depended on. You loved him, you really did. But you loved yourself too. 

The train of thought drifted towards sympathy as the flames of rage ran cold within you. Maybe you were too hard on him. Maybe he really did have urgent things to tend to, and was just trying to keep cool. He hasn't always been the best at showing emotions. 

You whine softly into the pillow, the scent of him flooding your already fluttering heart.

You don't know how much time has passed. You felt your tears dry on your cheeks and your eyes puffy. A creak of the bedroom door makes your heart beat right out of your chest, yet you attempt to stay calm. Heavy footsteps near you, before you see his shadow engulf your shape on the white mattress. 

He hesitates, looking at your quivering body, knowing he should haven't arrived earlier.

If only he could.

Your brows shoot up in surprise at the sight of a bouquet of roses he places on the bed next to you, but you don't get to think of what to say as he kneels at the edge, encircling your waist in his arms, placing his head on your shoulder, close to your own.

"Lo siento mucho, mi alma. Forgive me."

You snivel, humming a fragment of his name. He shuffles closer, seeing no retreat from you. He brings his lips to your stained cheeks, pecking over the salty traces. 

You instinctively shift into his warm embrace, chasing the comfort and touch you had wanted all day. 

"I'm sorry," you begin, "I shouldn't have-"

"Shh, no need" he stops you, pressing a sweet kiss shy of your lips. "No need, mi vida."

His arms tighten their hold around you as he pulls you to his chest. You grab at his biceps, pulling him on the bed. 

"The roses-" He whispers, hurriedly.

"Miguel!" You whine, entrapping his waist with your legs. He complies without another word; suit on, flowers still on the white sheets. With his massive body wrapped around you, finally content, you drift into a sweet slumber.

"Lo siento."

His voice rings low and quiet in your ears as you fall asleep, head on his chest.

translations: Lo siento mucho, mi alma - I'm terribly sorry, (my soul)

a/n: before yall beat my ass for the angst this is the best depiction of miguel x reader x anger issues from both that came to my mind, really hope you like it😭

[watchingblsnowandforever]

We Are Ep.14: Part 1/3

Hello!!! =D

Welcome back to my crack posts!

Part 2, Part 3

Ep 14 ruined me, just so y'all know. I'm honestly scared for what the next episode will do to me. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Warning: long, long post 😊😅 (also divided into three parts this time because I wanted to screenshot the whole damn thing, but this is next best)

I did not expect Q to be the one to stand up for Phum, but I wasn't really surprised after the last ep. Previously, he'd be the first one to go up in arms, but he's starting to understand maybe everything isn't that straightforward, and despite his friends meddling in his own relationship, he wants to leave Peem alone.

Conclusion: he's a very good friend.

Of course. I should've known something like this would come up 😭

Of course they've taken baths together.

I love this friendship so much.

You again. 😶 I swear to the gods, this guy will give me high blood pressure or something. Please please just leave Peem, alone. Learn to take a 'no' and mantain social distancing.

Peem... you're too kind for your own good. (I get it though)

You have no right to say that, especially without knowing the full story. But I'm feeling kind, so you're still a (mostly) decent human to me. Try not to ruin that impression. And never, ever again say anything to my babie Phum. Ever.

Oh my gods my heart broke for Tan 🥺 Here he was, probably never having dated after he fell for Fang, so knowing that Fang had dated even after whatever they went through must be so painful to him.

FANG KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT'S WRONG AND HOW TO FIX IT.

Just like we see Tan waving away Fang's insecurities every time, Fang does the very same for Tan.

I love them. <33

🥺🫶🏼

They're both so whipped-

Fai: I didn't see anything 👀😗 (we all know she's fangirling so hard inside)

Fai is me, I am Fai.

No but, Phum, are you sure Peem staring at you for a long time won't make your heart race?

Whipped. They're both so goddamn whipped. *sighs fondly*

The horns I'm dying 😭😂

Phum wasn't even surprised 😭👍🏼

Okay, not the best impromptu band performance/concert I've seen, but this is Thai BL, and they need some music and at least like 10 scenes with some band to pass whatever standard of approval, so I'll let it slide. Also, I'm terribly fond of these idiots. <3

HANDS.

They're besties for a reason hehe

You're asking the question, but are you ready for the answer?

I have already gone crazy over this too many times, I really don't have the energy anymore.

Peem is definitely winning Best Non-Confession Confession of the Year Award.

Are we still talking about the painting, or...?

Honestly though, when he was saying this I got actual flashbacks of Phum kicking the ball into his painting and how their relationship developed from there till where they are right now.

HE-

He named it "Happy" because it's all the things that make him happy. 😶

I had to pause here to take a deep breath so I didn't break out in tears two eps in a row.

WHAT IS THIS SERIES DOING TO ME.

Also, taken together, they are a story in 3 pics.

I'm just gonna go sob in the corner.

When faced with that smile and that "na, Peem, na" how could he ever deny Phum anything 😭

Textbook definition of a blushing boy who just became boyfriends with his crush the boy he loves. <3

No, he thinks he's a babygirl and rightfully so.

THIS HUG. That's it. That's all I have to say. I have no words for how this made me feel, and will make me feel for the rest of the forseeable future.

I end Part 1 here. Part 2 and 3 will be out tomorrow (because they are quite a bit long and I have Thoughts about them that I need to write in detail)!

If you've gotten this far, thank you so much for reading!! 😊

Here, have a taco 🌮

[cordeliawhohung]

Liquid Smooth [2]

main masterlist | series masterlist

bodyguard!Gaz x fem!model!Reader

he's just doing his job

warnings: break in, cursing, mentions of guns (in a video game), fluff, slight mutual pining? gaz is a fucking gentleman and i'm sobbing. lots of inaccuracies of sorts i'm sure. half awake while editing, apologize for any mistakes.

wc: 3k

Living in a gated community made you feel pretentious, but with someone of your popularity, it was the only place that made you feel safe. With top notch security, and state of the art surveillance, you never once doubted not only your safety, but your privacy. Still, every house for sale was too big and with too many amenities. Big pools, private theaters, and large game rooms were only fun when you had someone to share them with.

And as every tabloid, social media platform, and on occasion your own manager, liked to remind you; you were utterly alone.

Which was the whole idea, wasn't it? If you came home to your large, empty house feeling completely lonely, then the gated community did its job right. You were alone, and that was good.

Until you weren't.

It happened in the dead of night. An ear aching siren sounded sometime shortly after three in the morning, and though the source of the siren was on the bottom floor of the house, you could hear it clear as day from your room on the second floor. It stirred you out of your sleep, and the moment you realized the siren was from your security system, you felt your stomach plummet through the floor.

You sat straight up in bed like the undead rising from their grave, and your hand flew to the nightstand where your phone buzzed. The app that your alarm was connected to was so kindly informing you that there was a potential intruder in your home, as if the intermittent woops of the alarm wasn't informing enough. Though, the system had already contacted the police on your behalf at least.

But that still left you with one problem. You were no longer alone. Suddenly the distance from the entrance of your home to your room felt much too close. Terrified someone would come waltzing in, you hopped out of bed and ran as quietly as you could to lock the small turn lock on your doorknob. The siren still wailed, and you noticed your heart beat with a terrible thunder in your chest.

You were alone, and you really, really, didn't want to be.

Before you knew it, your fingers were tapping away on your phone and you had it pressed against your ear while you listened to the ring as it attempted to connect you. Each ring felt longer than the last, and it wasn't until you stepped away from the door that you realized your knees were shaking.

"Hello?" It was Kyle's voice, and you had never been so happy to hear it in your entire life. There was a certain tone to it that felt like gravel that told you your phone call had just woken him up.

"Hey," you greeted, struggling to get the word out.

Hey? There was an intruder in your home and that was the only word you managed to choke out? Not a help me? But you didn't even have the mental capacity to chastise yourself with everything going on.

"What's that sound? Everything alright?" he asked. You hadn't even answered him and you could already hear some sort of shuffling on his side of the line.

"Oh, well, uhm, the alarm at my house got tripped, so that's like the siren or... yeah, but the police are on their way. I'm sorry, I just, I don't know, I got scared? I think and I just- did I mention the police are already coming?" you said, stumbling over the words.

There was a slight pause on Kyle's side of the call, as if he was contemplating something, before the shuffling on his end continued. Though, you noticed whatever sounds that bled through the speaker seemed quicker.

"Are you safe?" he asked, his voice more alert.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm in, uh, my room and I've, you know, locked the door," you said. Your eyes still glanced around the room, as if you weren't sure that the burglar, murderer, whoever they were, hadn't snuck into the room unnoticed.

"Stay put," Kyle ordered, "and stay on the phone with me, yeah? I'll be there in ten. Cops better beat me there."

Just like he had instructed, you stayed on the line with him. There wasn't much talking to be done, as you were terrified to make any noise lest you led someone undesirable straight to your bedroom door. Every now and then, Kyle would check in and ask how you were doing, to which you'd mumble something or hum just to confirm you weren't keeled over on the floor.

"Almost there, love. You're gonna be alright," he assured you.

The cops did show up before him, but only by a few minutes. You heard the siren finally silence, and the house fell into quietness. Kyle spoke with the officers on scene for a few minutes, but their conversation was much too muffled for you to hear. Either way, the adrenaline was still pooled in your system, and you had to keep wiping the sweat off of the palm of your hands.

"Where's your room?" he asked, voice cutting clearly through the speaker on your phone.

"Up the stairs. Third door on the right," you told him.

"Which stairs?" Kyle asked after a pause.

A laugh left you, and you weren't sure if it was because of his question or your nerves. "Right, uhm, the one on the left."

Not even a minute passed before there was a soft knock on your door. Hanging up the call, you fumbled with the lock on your door before swinging it open. Kyle stood in the hallway as he shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. Worry was etched deeply into his face as his eyes did a quick look over you as if worried you still might have gotten hurt.

He couldn't even get a single word out before a slight grunt left him. Your arms wrapped around his torso in a tight hug, and you buried the side of your face into his chest. He smelled warm, like something spiced and woody. That warmth only extended further as his arms enveloped you, returning your hug.

"It's alright, I got you," he muttered quietly while resting his chin on the top of your head.

After a quick inspection of your home, it was determined that the only real damage done was to the large window in your living room. The beautiful floor to ceiling glass that you liked to gaze out of in the mornings laid in a shattered mess on the floor. Someone had grabbed a rock from your garden and threw it in what was most likely an attempt to enter your home to rob you. While you didn't think anything was missing, you couldn't be sure until you did inventory. Otherwise, the intruder most likely left as soon as the alarm sounded, damaging nothing more than a window and your sleep.

"Fucking hell," you muttered.

You stood a good few feet away from the broken window, taking care not to step on any of the glass shards. A soft breeze drifted through the living room, cooling your exposed skin. Some cops mulled around as they messed with your security system and gathered any bits of evidence they could. It was a huge relief to realize things were fine, yet you still felt a little gutted. There was something dehumanizing about having your home broken into.

"Sorry you had to go through all this tonight," Kyle said as he stood next to you. "I'm glad things weren't worse."

"Me too," you agreed before you let out a strained chuckle. "To think all this commotion over a broken window. Seems a little silly."

"Well, it's a big window," he teased.

His comment got another chuckle out of you, but this time it was more real, more comfortable. You glanced up at him, but his eyes were focused on something outside. Assessing anything that the cops might have missed, no doubt.

"Do you feel safe staying here?" he suddenly asked. "I imagine it'll take them awhile to clean everything up. Might not have a window for a bit."

You bit the bottom of your lip as you glanced back to the empty void that laid just beyond your house. The shape of your garden was vague and dark in the dim moonlight, and you couldn't even make out the pool to the left. The gated community was mostly cut off from the public, which meant it wasn't like someone would come strolling by and see that you were down a window. Still...

"I'll probably get a hotel or something," you said as you waved your hand like it was no big deal.

"Seriously?" Kyle challenged.

"What, it's not like I'm a stranger to hotels with all the traveling I do for work," you brushed off.

"No, I understand that, but love, it's nearing four in the morning." He paused for a moment to wet his lips before turning his full attention to you. "Could stay at my place, if you'd like."

That was... not what you were expecting out of his mouth. For a moment, you wanted to fight him on it. Staying over at his place was certainly crossing a boundary of some sort. He was your bodyguard, you hired him. But really, he had a point. By the time you fully settled into the hotel, if they would even take you at such an odd hour, you'd be lucky if it was only six in the morning. You'd be wasting time and energy for nothing.

But still...

"Are you sure?" you said, uncertain. "I don't want to intrude, or anything. And don't offer because you feel bad for me or anything, either."

"Hey..." Kyle said while softly reaching his hand to rest on your shoulder. His touch was so warm. Everything about him was warm, from his voice to his scent. You felt your throat grow tight as that familiar feeling of endearment flooded your system. "I'm offering because you've had a shit night, and it's my job to take care of you."

Something told you to resist. It wasn't a bad idea, and you knew it was more realistic than trying to get a hotel. Yet there was something gnawing at you, telling you it wasn't a good idea. It wasn't that you couldn't trust him, but maybe you couldn't trust yourself. Not with the way you found yourself feeling about him after your wardrobe malfunction a few weeks back.

And yet, half an hour later, you found yourself in Kyle's bed. Alone, of course, because he had been nothing but a gentleman to you. Insisted that you slept in his room rather than take the couch, and you quickly found out that arguing with him was futile when it came to how he treated you. He even changed the bedding for you, and though you wouldn't admit it, you were a little bummed about that; not being able to breathe in the scent of him as you fell asleep.

God, you needed to get a grip.

Between the crazy events of that night, and the fact that you were in Kyle's bed, you couldn't sleep. You laid on your back, staring at the vague and darkened features of his bedroom. It was so clean, and not just clean but neat. He was a very organized man. Perhaps he had his military experience to thank for that.

With your restlessness eventually getting the best of you, you slowly slipped out of bed where you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders. With quiet steps, you cracked the door open before slinking off towards the living room where you surprisingly found Kyle awake.

Dull and quiet sounds of gunshots sounded from the TV, which had the volume turned so low it was nearly muted. A controller sat in his hands where he pressed various buttons. You watched him from the hallway for a moment as you took sight of his furrowed brows. Eventually, he let out a quiet sigh before mumbling, "fuckin' pixel peek."

"I thought you'd be asleep," you spoke up softly, making yourself known.

Kyle didn't seem at all surprised to see you standing in the hallway, and he greeted you with a tired smile. The yellow glow of the standing lamp bathed him in a golden light. Fuck, he could have been a model.

"I imagined you'd have a hard time falling asleep after everything. Figured I'd stay awake. Just in case," he explained.

Ignoring the way your heart fluttered at his words, you laughed instead at how predictable you were. Or maybe he was just good at reading people. Either way, he scooted over some on the couch before patting the spot next to him.

"Here. You've earned yourself front row seats to watch me get my ass kicked in this game."

You should have turned around and marched your happy ass back down the hallway and into bed, but you gave into his request (and your secret desire to be closer to him) and took the spot next to him. The TV showed what appeared to be a character selection of sorts. Multiple characters laid out in perfect squares across the screen where he danced the cursor back and forth between a few.

"Pick one," he said, leaning back into the couch.

"Your character?" you asked.

"They're called operators, actually."

You rolled your eyes. "Uhm, Jackal."

As you suggested, Kyle selected the operator, who seemed to be a man with a weird looking half helmet. You thought his chin strap made him look dorky, but judging by his icon, he seemed awfully confident in himself.

"What game is this?" you asked as he equipped his load out.

"Siege," he answered. "Straight shit at it, but it gives me something to do."

You hummed as you watched him load into the game. It was a first person shooter, and judging by all the military tactical stuff, it was certainly army related. Which seemed awfully fitting, actually.

As he waited to load in, Kyle let out a soft yawn before reaching his hands above his head in a stretch. You were about to poke fun at him for being tired, but your words quickly got caught in your throat as you caught sight of the way his shirt pulled up. The toned skin of his stomach peeked in a thin line, and you found your eyes wandering to places they shouldn't.

"What's the goal of the game?" you asked instead. He finally loaded in, and he lowered his arms, saving you from having to look at the eye catching sight of his body.

"Well, we're attacking, so our goal is to go in and diffuse the bomb that the defenders placed somewhere in this house and-"

Kyle was cut off mid sentence when several shots sounded and his operator flopped over on the ground with an over exaggerated groan. He laughed but it quickly turned into a groan as he rested the controller in his lap and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Suppose that's what I get for playing Jackal," he muttered.

"I hope you're a better soldier in real life than you are in this game," you teased.

"No, see, that's not fair," Kyle defended with a grin. "Most terrorists don't spawn peek, and I never magically spawn ten meters away from the target."

You giggled as you settled further into the couch. Your legs were curled up against your side, and you found yourself sinking low enough so that your head rested against the arm rest. You looked akin to a cat. For a couch only one person used, it sure was a comfortable one.

For the rest of the round, the two of you were stuck watching his teammates attempt to locate this bomb. Though you didn't ask for it, Kyle gave you a play by play of everything going on, which you didn't mind at all. Honestly, there was something comforting about his voice and the softness to it. Maybe you were just getting too attached.

"In real life, we'd never take an approach like this," he explained. "In a situation like this, I'd honestly take it from the roofs. Death from above, type thing. And- ouch. Glad I don't have to watch out for Kapkan traps in real life. Now we're in overtime. What operator should I...?"

Kyle's sleepy rambling fell silent as he turned to look at you. Wrapped up in the blanket he gave you, your head rested comfortably against the arm rest as you slouched to the side, eyes closed. Your soft and even breaths caused your shoulders to rise and fall, and a small smile appeared on his lips as he watched you for a short moment.

Disregarding his game, Kyle carefully stood from the couch, not wanting to wake you, and turned his console and TV off. Just in case you woke up, he kept the lamp on, but dimmed it before sitting back on his side of the couch. Even though you were fast asleep, he still refused to sleep in a bed while you were on the couch.

A heavy sigh left him as he propped the side of his head on his hand, glancing at your sleeping form one more time before his own eyes fluttered shut. You took up two thirds of the couch, but that was alright with him. He'd slept on worse. And your comfort was his priority, anyway.

It was his job, after all.

"Sweet dreams, love."

[apomaro-mellow]

Matchmaking Harringtons 4

Eddie was gone for Steve. Absolutely gone for him. Steve had come by, his gleaming car sitting right outside Eddie's trailer.

"I was thinking about you", was all he said.

And honestly, how could Eddie not kiss him? After pulling him inside and shutting the door (with Steve's own body) he kissed him with a fervor unmatched by anyone else Steve had dated before. Eddie's passion was the kind Steve had dreamed of this exact thing when he realized he was into men. He loved being pushed against things. He loved the feel of Eddie pinning him down.

He loved now, how Eddie was grabbing him by the thighs and hoisting him up. Steve steadied himself by wrapping his legs around his waist and arms around his neck. He wasn't even sure where Eddie was taking him but he'd go anywhere in this man's arms.

Steve felt himself being set on a hard surface and knew he was on the kitchen counter. But whatever else was going on melted away as Eddie nibbled on his lips. Steve's hands got lost in his hair and he dove in deep to suck on his tongue. Eddie let out the sweetest whimper and pawed at Steve legs.

Every sound he wrung out of Eddie made him feel so powerful. Like he could ask him to commit murder and Eddie would only say 'right away'.

This man was a dream come true. Except for when he was pulling away.

"We gotta-we gotta stop, Stevie."

"Why?", Steve asked, not even ashamed of how whiny his voice came out. This wasn't the first time Eddie had done this. Just when things were getting to the good part, Eddie put a pause on things.

"Because I'm about to lose control."

Steve couldn't help but pout. He removed his hands from those dark curls and instead gripped Eddie's shirt. "What if I want you to lose control? What are you afraid of?"

Steve expected any number of responses. Afraid of falling too deep, of scaring him away, of being too much, of what society might think. But instead, after a long pause, Eddie said this:

"Your parents."

Well that was one way to lose a boner.

"My...my what?"

"Your mom. And your dad."

"What do they have to do with this?"

"They um-", Eddie's mouth snapped shut as he realized Steve might not even know the smallest of involvements that his parents had in all this.

"They what?"

"They're the ones who gave out your house's number so I could call you. Remember when we first met at my job?"

"Yeah?", Steve rose a brow.

"Before I rang you up, your dad uh, well he uh, vouched for you."

"I can't believe this!", Steve got off the counter. "My dad told you to talk to me?"

Eddie nodded and now Steve was running through that first interaction in his mind. He had felt terribly awkward as Eddie had laid on the thick flirtation. He'd thought Eddie had just been making fun of him somehow. So he'd been shocked to receive his call. Steve hadn't even questioned how he'd gotten the number.

"Did they tell you to ask me out too? Did they...", Steve's brow furrowed as he thought about his boyfriend and parents having secret conversations. "Did they tell you to not have sex with me?"

"They didn't tell me to ask you out", Eddie said holding his hands up. "They only told me that if I did, you'd probably say yes. And I have NOT discussed anything sexual with them, Jesus Christ Almighty."

Steve started to pace around the living room. Because that meant Eddie was still talking to them about some things.

"Is that why you took me out to Le Petit's? Because they told you to?"

Eddie let out a groan. "That was the worst. I should've never listened to them that time." He sat on the couch and put his head in his hands.

Steve sat next to him. "Eds. Tell me everything."

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

Jonas sat across from his wife in a cafe. Both of them had some coffee. They'd come to terms with the fact that they had been giving Eddie conflicting advice.

"I thought the whole point of this was to get Steve on the straight and narrow." Jonas cleared his throat. "So to speak."

"Yes", Diane agreed. "But it seems we're on different pages of what that means. Do you not like Eddie?"

"I like him. He's just not, well he doesn't look ready to settle down, is all."

"Steve is nineteen. He shouldn't be settling down."

"But he should be getting ready to."

"Jonas, you and I didn't get married until we were in our twenties."

"After dating in high school", Jonas reminded her.

"This is Steve's first boyfriend", Diane whispered the last word.

"But not his first relationship. I like Eddie, I think he can do right by Steve. But-"

"But his image isn't clean enough? Goodness, you sound just like my father. Remember when he didn't want me dating some dirty greaser?"

"I cleaned up my image for you."

"You still use more hair products than my father ever did, still read motorcycle magazines, and I highly doubt he would have ever entertained the notion of me romancing a woman."

"So am I like your father or not?", Jonas asked.

"We need to let Steve find his own way. He already looks more serious with Eddie than any of those girls he dated. Maybe they will get married. Maybe they won't."

Jonas let out a sigh. Even he had to admit Steve looked happier. Maybe it was just a nice summer romance, maybe it'd be a forever thing. But they had to let Steve and Eddie figure it out.

"Hm, not that I think of it, I'm not even sure what a gay wedding would look like. Would they both wear tuxes?"

"Well, I'm sure they'd-", Diane paused as she thought about it. "You know, I don't know. But if anyone should wear a dress, it's Steve. He's got the figure for it."

"Hold the phone, the gays can't even get married", Jonas said like a great epiphany.

Diane's eyes got wide as she realized it too. In the chaos of finding their son a boyfriend and trying to set them up properly, they had forgotten the true politics of their situation at large.

"Jonas, can't you speak to someone?"

"The highest person I know is Don at the bank. What about you? Who's that gal who's always in the salon with you?"

"Mary Ellen, that's right! She's on the city council. How hard do you think it would be to get a bill started?"

Jonas swirled his cup around. "I'm sure it can't be too hard. Lobbying's going to put a dent in our savings though."

"Well, Steve's not going off to college yet, his fund can help foot that bill", Diane said with a wave of her hand. "Eddie can consider it his dowry."

"I thought we weren't rushing them into marriage?", Jonas grinned.

"No.... but maybe we should invite Eddie to dinner in the meantime."

Later on, when the two of them returned home, their son's car was the only one in the driveway, yet they could tell he wasn't alone the moment they entered the house.

"Steve! We're home!", Diane called out. She shared a knowing look with her husband when they heard a shuffling upstairs and what sounded like someone falling.

Jonas was the one who went up the stairs and opened the door to Steve's room.

Steve was lying innocently on his bed, reading a sports magazine. "Dad, you of all people should know that you can't walk into a dude's room without knocking."

"Oh I know plenty", Jonas said. "Would Eddie like to stay for dinner? We're having salmon."

Eddie stuck a thumbs up from under the bed. "Sure thing, Mr. H."

Part 6

Tag Team

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