#please charlie come get your man he's falling apart

[creepywitchy]

the fact that babe told charlie he loved him for the first time and he wasn't even there to hear it....oh god P A I N

[wanderingelvis]

Hey I don’t know if your doing requests rn but I had this idea. Maybe like an innocent reader x Elvis and she broke a glass and cut herself on accident and she keeps apologizing because her dad would get mad at her for that and he has to convince her it’s not her fault. Maybe ending in smut? Whatever you wanna do I just thought it was a cool idea

Thank you for the request! I really hope you like it! 🧚

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Word Count: 2,649

Pairing: Late 60s!Elvis x Innocent F!Reader

Warnings: PTSD, mentions of ab*se (verbal and physical)

You were a little ball of sunshine in Elvis' life. A sensitive little ball of sunshine at that. You quite often reminded Elvis of a little puppy dog, just eager and desperate for his love and attention, always looking at him with those big, round eyes of yours, filled with admiration and adoration for the big old man. 

Your love for Elvis didn't come from nowhere though, he equally showered you with affection and love from the moment he first interacted with you. He became enamoured with your playful and soft giggles and your incessant babbling that he found utterly adorable.

Elvis picked up early on that you had some underlying issues. He would notice you flinch at a loud noise or a raised voice, the way you'd instantly stop talking if someone began to speak over you, the way you'd trip over your words when any sort of confrontation would occur. He knew that there must have been something in your past that had created those behaviours and he was right.

You opened up to him about your past and your upbringing early on in your relationship with Elvis after Elvis had asked you about your childhood. You'd told Elvis tentatively, all about the tense and aggressive environment that you grew up in, and even when you'd trip over you words or start to feel anxious when recalling the events, Elvis hushed you, telling you to take your time, everything was okay and that you were his special girl now.

Since then, you'd really gone from strength to strength, you were this little diamond on Elvis' arm, charming everyone just like Elvis did, and together, you really were the new 'it' couple. 

You were so eager to please everyone but most importantly Elvis, that you would wear yourself out, trying so hard to impress him that you'd often end up becoming drowsy at 8pm, nodding off in Elvis' strong hold as he would laugh and chat with the Mafia. 

Elvis didn't mind one bit, he thought there was no cuter sight than you drifting off whilst clinging to him as if he were your security blanket or nighttime teddy bear. Once Elvis was sure that you'd be fully asleep, he'd always excuse himself from whatever was going on to carry you to your shared room and put you into bed, knowing that the worst thing for you would be to fall asleep only to be woken up by someone getting drunk and starting to holler and wake you up and mess up your routine. 

You truly were Elvis' little baby, he treated you like a princess and you truly were head over heels in love with the big, old, rockstar.

The two of you being the social butterflies you were meant that you loved a crowded house, hosting parties for any event, Christmas, Halloween, 4th of July - heck, even if it was a Friday, that would be enough to warrant an extravagant party.

And that's exactly what had happened, a lavish party in December had taken place in Graceland where the Mafia, their wives, a few fans and fellow musicians had all attended in what could only have been described as an 'early Christmas' in Graceland, with endless drinks, cigars, and laughter. 

It was about 3am and everyone had left apart from a few members of the Mafia, Lamar, Sonny, Charlie and Joe, all in the Jungle room relaxing with you nestled into Elvis' side, completely wiped and a little tipsy from the expensive champagne that Elvis had let you drink.

"Why dontchu be a doll n'go n'get us some drinks eh, Y/N? Might wanna make a start on the mess while yer at it?" Charlie laughed, nodding at you. 

You blinked a couple of times and rubbed your eyes, the excitement of the party taking its toll on your little body before you nodded, pushing your body up from where it rested by Elvis. 

"That how you talk to a little girl huh, Charlie? No wonder you're goddamn single," Elvis retorted sharply, with an ever so bitter chuckle at the end of his pointed comment, clearly agitated at some other fella telling you what to do.

See, Elvis knew that you craved praise and even more so, you were absolutely desperate to avoid any sort of conflict or trouble, so you'd always do anything that anyone asked of you. Naturally, this could lead to people taking advantage of your sweet state but that's where Elvis was perfect for you. His authoritative and dominant presence meant that people would seldom cross him just to get you to do some task they were too lazy to do. 

Elvis reached over with his cold, ring clad fingers wrapping around your tender wrist, holding you in place. "Uh-uh." Elvis tsked, making you stop in your tracks. "Don't you move baby, Charlie's a big boy, he can get himself a drink if he needs one."

"Oh, no, Elvis it's okay! Really, I don't mind, it's okay!" You said earnestly.

"I know you don't mind darlin', but you're readin' your fun little magazine, no need for you to be bothered hm? Charlie can do it himself just fine." Elvis said, just about managing to shoot Charlie another stern look.

"S'okay! I was gon' get myself a drink anyways! A hot lemon and tea, I think I hurt my throat from how much I was talkin'!" You sleepily giggled, the angelic sound quelling Elvis' frustrations, you were just so heavenly. Elvis equally knew that you'd just be sitting and feeling anxious if he kept you by his side so he released his tender grip on you, tapping his cheek with his finger, indicating he wanted a kiss from you.

You complied docilely, bending down to press a kiss on Elvis cheek, a soft giggle leaving your lips afterwards as you skipped off to the kitchen, leaving Charlie to the wrath of Elvis.

You carefully prepared the tea and got Charlie's favourite drink sorted too - an Old Fashioned, biting down on your lip as you tried to get the measurements just right! 

It wasn't until you were carrying the tray of tea and cocktails that everything fell apart - quite literally. 

The damned carpet corner wasn't properly pinned down, making you trip over your own feet just like Bambi, sending the tray, along with its contents flying and tumbling down onto the pristine carpet, the glass and china shattering  everywhere. 

You gasped and immediately your heart dropped and sheer panic set in. Your clumsiness, whilst adored by Elvis, had not been your fathers favourite trait of yours, with violent punishments incurring whenever you'd make a little mistake and those punishments had had a lasting impact on you. Obviously, this caused your body to go into automatic panic and defence as you knelt down, trying to clear up the glass and china shards before anyone that heard the accident came running through.

As tears began to pool in your eyes, making your vision cloudy and your breathing became erratic with panic and fear of being punished, you didn't even register the shards of glass cutting through the skin on your knees and the palms of your hands. 

You began to create more mess than tidy it as droplets of blood now began to drip onto the carpet as you frantically tried to wipe away your tears, smudging the pretty black eye makeup Elvis had so lovingly put on you for the party. 

That's when you began to hear footsteps and you dared not look up when you heard Elvis' familiar deep Southern voice.

"Baby?" Elvis said lowly, concern lacing his voice that you mistook for disappointment.

"M'sorry, m'sorry, p-please don't be mad, p-please, I didn't m-mean it," You stuttered with a shaky, cracked voice, stopping every couple of words to sniffle as you cowered into yourself like a frightened little puppy, scared of anything that might approach it.

As Elvis' concern grew rapidly, his demeanour softened, knowing that you were now in an extra fragile and sensitive state and you needed to be treated delicately.

So that's how the big man ended up slowly walked over to you, rolling up the sleeves on his silk shirt and crouching down so that he could be on your level - even if he was still towering over you. 

"Ssh baby, s'okay, I'm not mad with you princess." Elvis hushed, reaching out to gently to push away the hair that had fallen in front of your pretty face, making sure to be as tender as he could be as to not startle you as he knew you were frightened of any sudden contact.

You flinched ever so slightly as Elvis touched you, sniffling as you tried to steady your panic, your wet lashes fluttering up to meet Elvis' concerned gaze. 

"Do ya think you can tell me what happened little one?" Elvis asked as his eyes scanned the scene, realising how badly you'd hurt yourself.

Your eyes widened as you began to recall what happened. "I-I-, um, I, tried to get the, get the drinks and I got um, um, tripped over, by the carpet, I didn't mean it, I didn't m-mean it, I p-promise!" You said shakily, panic beginning to set in again which Elvis picked up on immediately.

"Uh uh baby, you're gettin' yerself all worked up aren't ya?" Elvis soothed, and you nodded, your chest still erratically rising and falling as you hiccupped through tears. You nodded feverishly, your shaky hand wiping away snot and tears. 

"M'sorry! It was just an accident, I promise, I'll c-clean it all up, I p-promise." You whimpered.

"I know it was an accident baby, we all have accidents don't we hm?" Elvis cooed, trying to soothe you and calm you down. "Accidents happen, it's okay honey, I ain't mad, I ain't mad at all." Elvis tried to reassure as you trembled opposite him, your hands still in a bloodied mess along with your knees.

Elvis knew that your sudden panicky and frightened little state was the result of your father, beating you and verbally abusing you at any possible chance he had, particularly when an incident like this would happen. He knew that you'd revert back to the child-like state that you'd first experienced the abuse in, but he knew it was now his job and responsibility to look after you and take care of you and make you feel better and feel loved.

"I d-didn't mean it, p-promise." You mewled softly, growing calmer but still tender and frightened. 

Elvis nodded understandingly, holding eye contact with you, wanting to make it absolutely clear to you that you weren't in any trouble and nothing was bad was going to happen to you whilst you were in his care. 

"I know you didn't sweet girl. You were just doin' yer best weren't you honey? You did nothin' wrong, you were busy bein' a good girl and gettin' Charlie a drink for him." Elvis praised, knowing you needed it. "What happened to yer hands n'knees little one?" Elvis asked, pointing to your injuries.

You hadn't even acknowledged that you were hurt or bleeding, your mind far too occupied with fear. Your eyes widened cutely as you blinked a few times, realising how bad your hands really were as you held them up in front of you. Elvis watched you, his attempt to get your mind to stop panicking was working.

"I, um, I hurt them," You said quietly, your voice trailing off as you studied your hands. "They hurt." You whimpered slightly, the realisation of what had happened setting in, as well as the pain. 

"They look sore don't they honey?" Elvis observed and you nodded, successfully distracted from the internalised fear that had consumed you. "I think we need to get you cleaned up little one, make you feel all good n'better? What do you think princess?" Elvis asked calmly.

Again, you nodded, your habit of becoming ever-so-slightly more non-verbal kicking in when you were upset and scared and overstimulated. "Okay..." You replied, with the small word being all you could muster.

"Okay." Elvis repeated in confirmation with a reassuring nod. "Now, I'm gon' help you up little 'un, then I'm gon' get the fellas outta here, they've had enough partyin' for one night, then we're gon' get you cleaned up and into our nice big, warm, bed, how does that sound Y/N?" Elvis said to you gently. 

You swallowed a lump in your throat as your damp eyelashes fluttered and you scanned the mess around you on the floor. "B-But I need to clean up my mess." You stuttered.

"Oh little one, no, no this will all get cleaned by the staff who are comin' to sort out the mess from the party 'kay? Your only job is to let me clean you up and feel better, okay little girl?" Elvis said with a raised eyebrow as you sniffled and reached out for him, desperately craving physically affection from him. "Careful pretty girl, I don't wanna hurt yer pretty little hands now, do I? M'gon pick you up from your elbows, okay?" Elvis told you, standing back up before leaning down and slowly hauling you up from under your arms, making sure as to not cause you any more harm.

Once you were up, Elvis quickly dashed to the Jungle room to get rid of the remaining guys, explaining the situation to them before they all told Elvis that they hoped you were okay. They all thought of you as a little gem of a girl and they all had a soft spot for you. They were also protective of you, perhaps not as much as Elvis was, but they all knew you were a sweet girl and they all sincerely hoped you'd feel better as quickly as possible.

Elvis then carried you up the stairs and straight to your bathroom, setting you on the bathroom counter where your legs dangled and your cheeks were sticky with dried tears and smudged eyeliner. 

Elvis spent the next couple of hours cleaning you, carefully getting rid of any glass that was stuck in your skin and applying cream and ointment onto your wounds, pressing a comforting kiss to your forehead every time you winced from the anti-septic. 

"Hurts." You cried as you recoiled every time Elvis applied anti-septic onto your body somewhere. 

"I know it does baby, I know it does, but you're bein' such a brave girl f'me, aren't you? That's right, bein' so brave f'me, m'so proud of you." Elvis cooed. "But this is going to make you better so you gotta keep bein' a brave girl for me, just a little bit more medicine and then we'll go to bed little one." Elvis assured.

Sweet nothings and words of comfort and praise kept coming from Elvis as he continued to clean you up, change you out of your sweet little pink party dress, put your pyjamas on for you and get you all cuddled up into bed. 

Exhaustion consumed you, overwhelming you and making your whole body feel heavy as you sank into the big, plush bed that you and Elvis shared. 

You glanced up at Elvis who settled in next to you, your big eyes gazing up at him. "Promise I didn't mean it, promise I'm sorry." You mumbled feebly.

Elvis sighed, looking down at you as he cupped your face with his large hand that had so delicately looked after you all evening. "I know baby, you ain't got nothin' t'be sorry about princess. There ain't no need to be worried little one, yer with me now baby, I ain't ever gon' be mad atchu, okay? Now, you need to rest, you're overwhelmed baby, but m'gon be right here when you wake up and m'gon make you pancakes for bein' such a good girl f'me tonight." Elvis smiled, watching as a sleepy smile crept onto your face.

"Love you." You lazily hummed before you closed your eyes.

Elvis didn't sleep until he knew you were sleeping soundly, his little sunshine.

[mousy-nona]

Chronicles of Cursed Cat Alastor

One day, the hotel woke up to see Alastor’s perpetual “on air” sign had been turned off. His room was empty, his coffee ice cold. 

And in the middle of the lobby was a cat. Or what seemed to be the approximate shape and size of a cat, but with the strangest, most evil face any of them had ever seen. It grinned up at them and wagged its little stump of a tail, which made Charlie melt into a puddle of happy tears.

“Isn’t he adorable?” She squealed.

And that was that. The cat joined their weird little family – and Lucifer secretly resolved to get his daughter to an eye doctor. Stat. 

—-----------------

“Charlie, are you sure about this one? There’s something weird about that cat.” Lucifer eyed the red thing warily. “It’s looking at Keekee like it wants to eat it!” 

“Don’t be silly! Mr. Montgomery is probably trying to be her friend!” She frowned. “It’s so strange. Keekee’s never been this skittish around other cats before.” 

A thin line of drool was falling from the edge of Mr. Montgomery’s mouth. When he noticed Lucifer watching, he sucked it back up and graced him with a freakish, utterly too human grin.  

—-----------------

Lucifer’s wedding anniversary hit him like a truck. That is, he didn’t handle it very well. He got up, fully intending to make a show of his utterly fantastic mood – haha, look how great I feel! Your mother didn’t crush my heart and set it on fire with a flamethrower after all! – but found it was all too much of a bother, and sat promptly back down. He laid his head on his desk. Just a few more minutes. Then I’ll leave. 

He didn’t even notice Mr. Montgomery had waltzed in until the abomination jumped up onto his desk. The cat loomed over him, his razor teeth inches from Lucifer’s nose. 

“Can I help you?” He sniffled. Couldn’t a man mourn the end of his marriage in peace? 

Mr. Montgomery tilted his head with a sickening crack, his neck nearly bending into a right angle as he studied Lucifer’s red eyes, the mountain of used tissues accumulating by the desk, the ring he was clutching in his hand.

Stretching leisurely (in the exact same way he learned from Keekee, Lucifer noted), Mr. Montgomery strolled over to a picture of Lilith he had on his desk – and smacked it off. He stared at him the entire time, as if daring him to do something about it.

“Are you…are you power playing me right now?” 

“Meow,” Mr. Montgomery sneered. 

“That’s it, you little freak! Come to Daddy!”

When Charlie got home, she found Lucifer with his six wings fully spread and the hotel half destroyed by angelic bolts, panting and wheezing as he tore a couch apart. 

“Dad, what are you doing?” 

He whirled around, his eyes wild as he zapped a vaguely cat-shaped shadow into oblivion. “It’s that monster! That cat! I can hear him in the walls!”

“Isn’t he behind you…?” Vaggie asked.

And he was. Mr. Montgomery was sitting on a shelf over the reception, licking his paw and yawning. 

Lucifer deflated. “Ah. I guess he is.”

“Dad, isn’t today…?” Charlie trailed off, blushing a little.

“Oh! Right. Yes, it is,” Lucifer said. He’d been so busy chasing Mr. Montgomery around, he’d completely forgotten about his anniversary. 

“Are you doing okay?”

He sighed and pulled her into a hug. “Yes, I’m fine. I was a little sad at first, but then I got distracted.”

“Burning down the hotel?” Vaggie asked. Mr. Montgomery meowed and started purring, looking as pleased as a cat that had gotten the cream.

—-----------------

“That cat is trying to kill me!” Lucifer roared, pointing at the wholly unrepentant Mr. Montgomery.

The accused murderer jumped onto Charlie’s lap and started kneading her lap. Everyone let out a collective awww! Charlie nearly teared up, and Angel Dust snapped a picture for his Voxstagram. Even Vaggie, the sole voice of reason, was making what the kids called heart eyes at the monster. 

Lucifer nearly tore out his hair in frustration. “He’s tricking you, don’t you see? That cat has it out for me! This is the third time he’s tried to kick rat poison into my food!” 

“Don’t be silly, Dad! He’s just a cat. Cats knock stuff over all the time!” 

“Rat poison? Three times?” 

Charlie looked around, frowning. “Who keeps putting rat poison on the shelves?” 

No one fessed up. Mr. Montgomery let out a loud purr and fixed Lucifer with the most hair-raising, devilishly smug grin Lucifer had ever seen. 

“Did no one see that? Seriously, did no one else see that?”

—-----------------

A few weeks passed before someone finally broached the question that was on everyone’s mind.

“Has anyone seen Alastor?” Charlie tapped her nose with her pencil, frowning a bit. “It’s strange for him to be gone this long.” 

“Oh, oh! I’ve seen him!” Niffty raised her hand and waved it frantically. “He’s right over there!”

Everyone turned – but all they saw was a furry red blob warming himself near the fire. 

“Niffty, doll, have you been sniffing the toilet cleaner again?” Angel Dust asked gently.

“Nooo, silly. The cat is Alastor!” Niffty chirped, clapping her little hands with delight. Mr. Montgomery – no, scratch that – Alastor blinked his left eye, then his right eye, and smiled blandly up at all of them.

“But…but…how?” Angel Dust stuttered.

She shrugged, her shoulders going all the way up to her ears. “Dunno. He’s got a few weird friends who like to play tricks on him. Isn’t it great? He showed up all fluffy and cuddly! Perfect for hugs!” 

Alastor the Cat looked remotely nervous for the first time since he’d appeared. 

“How do we turn him back?” Lucifer demanded. He would rather die than admit it, but he sort-of-kind-of missed the sadistic demon that made his life Hell. It was getting kind of boring without him around. 

“Dunno! Ask him!”

Once again, they all turned to the cat, who opened his mouth – “Meeeeow.”

[genderfluid-insomniac]

"Why are you stealing my ducks?!"/// Lucifer Morningstar x reader

A/N: I had an idea and ran with it. I know someone out there isn't pleased with the lack of ducks in the market.

First off it was your day off and you were simply trying to find more rubber ducks to give to the kids at the daycare you ran for hellborns and sinners. Strangely enough, it was fairly financially stable with parents and minorly tolerable sinners dropping off kids (either their own adopted or otherwise) until the end of the day when you would lock up the place.

Because this was a daycare and you carried the cash back with you to your apartment there wasn’t any reason for anyone to break into or ruin the daycare. Even if they did their parents or guardians grew to be very protective of the place and you for honestly keeping their child safe. You were told by some others that one of the parents wouldn’t hesitate to protect their child by any means necessary and they refused to tell you which one strangely enough.

You had a feeling though of who it was since one of your favorite kids was an adorable blonde demon with bright red eyes who seemed to light up everyone around her. Unfortunately, she rarely was dropped off. But when she was her dad usually picked her up who you knew (via his daughter Charlie telling you he was the “best dad and inventor ever”) and you’d get to see the heartwarming scene of him catching her as she jumped to him and resting his forehead against hers.

He was quite handsome too and his devotion to his daughter never failed to put a smile on your face, often finding one of you staring at the other with a smile only to get caught. You never got his name but his theatrical apple-themed clothing stuck with you but you didn’t see him since his daughter had grown up.

Opening the door to the familiar sight of the toy store, you walked to the front to see the owner looking bored as they swiped through their phone until they saw you and lit up. “Hey! You here to see if I have any more rubber ducks in stock?” You looked hopeful for a second until they looked nervously at you and slid a clipboard over to you which had the clear stamp of “OUT OF STOCK” on the duck column. Groaning and letting your head fall tiredly onto the counter. Your day is now ruined as you’d planned to organize them in the daycare to let the kids go home with them as a gift after the disaster of this year’s extermination.

You heard the bell to the store ring signaling that someone else was now here and didn’t care since you were still upset about this being the 4 or 5 times in weeks that you’d tried to get at least 10 or 15 rubber ducks. The person walked up beside you and seemed to be very happy and a bit nervous by the way he rocked back and forth on his heels. They must have spotted you looking distraught because they tentatively poked your head. “You okay there? You seem kinda down.”

As you lifted your head you locked eyes with a very familiar man who you knew, the same white suit and pants with the decorative top hat and matching apple cane. Both of you had the same second of silence before saying “You!” and got interrupted by the owner coming back with 5 boxes labeled “RUBBER DUCKS” in Sharpie on a trolly. The man turned to the owner for a second after he gave you a timid smile and thanked them, signing his name at the bottom of the receipt and startling you at what his name was.

Lucifer Morningstar. Meaning the little girl Charlie was Charlie Morningstar….the princess of Hell. You were going to address your heartbeat picking up however seeing the boxes flipped a switch in your brain and looked between the king and the boxes of rubber ducks. “You- You motherfucker! You’re the one who’s been buying out their entire stock of ducks!” You said frustratedly and stalked up to him, poking a finger into his chest. Even if he was the King of Hell why would he need that many ducks?

Lucifer wore a tentative expression when you realized who he was until you angrily poked him in the chest and accused him of purposely screwing with you over. It wasn’t his fault that he ran out of ducks and duplicating them wasn’t good since the mechanics never fused with his magic well. He didn’t even know you came here and had seen you since Charlie had gone to daycare. Getting embarrassed when you asked about why he needed that many rubber ducks.

“I- I fail to see how that’s your business!” He spouted as he tried to put off an intimidating aura but it failed miserably seeing as how you just raised an eyebrow at him. The atmosphere quickly became calmer as he let out a sigh and mumbled something under his breath. You couldn’t hear him and leaned closer to hear him. “What did you say?” You asked very confused at the sudden change of attitude.

He blushed noticeably and ran a hand down his face, confessing something he hoped he’d never have to tell others. “I need them to invent more ducks.” Refusing to look at you, Lucifer wished he could just teleport back to his workshop but that would mean abandoning the person he never thought he’d have the opportunity to talk to again. The person who seemed to make his heart speed up and matched your reaction to seeing him. You smiled and let out a small chuckle, seeing how this wasn’t too surprising since you’d been told by his daughter that he was the “best dad and inventor ever”.

You put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft look. “I should’ve guessed. Your daughter always said her day was the “best dad and inventor ever”. It’s nice to see you again Lucifer.” You outstretched your hand and saw him smile in turn, taking your hand and shaking it firmly. He ran a hand through his blonde hair which had gotten disheveled during his “pitiful” confession and fixed his hat. “It’s nice to see you too! I missed- I mean I wished I had gotten in touch with you sooner!” He said before nearly slipping up and flushing at your unchanging beautiful appearance. It’d been so long since he’d seen you.

What you said registered to him and it seemed like you hadn’t forgotten about him either which was a good sign for him. Lucifer blushed remembering how Charlie always had a habit of bluntly saying things which sometimes backfired like it situations like these when he wanted to seem charming and alluring to someone he liked. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and letting out a short laugh. “Yeah, she’s always been very kind and honest to people. Which isn’t a bad fault at all! Just uh- in hell it’s normally not the greatest quality to have but she’s done so well with her hotel.” He explained and unconsciously started smiling as he talked about his daughter which warmed your heart completely.

You were still a bit frustrated with being bought out of rubber ducks but this excursion went better than you’d possibly imagined. His smile mirrored yours as he realized he’d started to realize he was rambling. “Sorry I-” You interrupted him and stopped his hand waving by putting yours on his. “No! No. I think it’s really touching hearing how much you love Charlie and I’m glad we got to see each other even if it was by accident.” You said. He was teetering on asking you out or at least saying “Can we meet again?” because he wasn’t going to leave it to chance to see you again. He would force himself if he had to. He moved his cane between his hands and knowing he’d be here all day if he waited.

“Do you want to go out- I mean see each other again? Maybe meet up somewhere.” Lucifer spit out what he’d wanted to say and took a deep breath, sighing out most of his nerves. “It would be nice to catch up after all these years. I’ve missed you.” He smiled and ignored the obvious shock and excitement of the owner standing beside them. You were equally shocked for a second before flushing at the implication of everything and nodded. “I’d love to. Just name the time and place. Preferably not during my work and I’m sure you can roughly remember the daycare’s hours. Unfortunately, I still need to find rubber ducks for the kids.” You spoke with a grin and laughed.

The devil was so happy you agreed but panicked briefly when you said you still had to find rubber ducks. However, hearing they were for the kids gave him an idea. “I think I can kill both birds with a hammer. I have more ducks back at my place, probably too many, many of them would be great for the kids if you wanted to take a look. Probably the non-fire-breathing ones should stay with me though.” He brightly suggested and then turned to the boxes currently full of ducks, suddenly getting another idea which he could also show off how creative he was while spending time with you.

“If you want we could make the ducks for the kids together since you know them and I can tinker with mechanics to make them do cool things!” Starting to become noticeably excited about the entire thing and how well this entire conversation was going compared to others. To everyone in the room, his actions were adorable, and unspokenly wouldn’t leave this room ever. You stopped him mid-sentence and laughed to grab his quick-moving hands. “I’d love to, Lucifer. It’d be more than happy to. How about we meet up at your daughter's hotel? The Hazbin Hotel right?” You asked and got an enthusiastic nod, bittersweetly parting ways and agreeing to meet up your next free day.

~~~~

Bonus:

To say Charlie was excited to see you again when Lucifer, who was living in the hotel himself, reintroduced you to her was an understatement. The princess had stars in her eyes when she saw you and you didn’t have any time to speak because she tackle-hugged you to the ground much to everyone but Lucifer’s surprise. She started crying happily and refusing to let you go, luckily you ended up getting helped by her father who chuckled and rubbed her head. You were asked to explain why you had reduced Charlie to tears and incoherent babbles of “I’m so happy to see them”. Your “hangout” with Lucifer went better than expected and both of you agreed to go on an official date. Needless to say everyone grew fond of seeing you around more often for several reasons.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The Widow Timestamp: I Love You

Summary: Sam tells Y/N that he loves her for the first time. This is basically PWP.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Jared Padalecki Character for @j3bingo 

Warnings: flirting, kissing, smut, fingering, hand job, p in v.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: My first journey into Sam smut… please be kind 😅 Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up with The Widow here!

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SAM’S POV

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says as he answers his phone.

“Sammy, you better not bail on me tonight,” Dean grumbles, getting straight to the point as always.

“I’ll be there,” he responds. Honestly, the week he’s had at work, meeting his dad and brother at a bar on a Friday night is the last thing he wants or needs right now. A night lounging in sweats, eating Chinese food, and watching a movie he didn’t need to use too much brain power for, is what he really wants to be doing.

“Good. Just checking. Can only get you away from the office if it’s for your girl these days, so…” Dean said.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckles. “Sorry about that. She, uh…” he trails off with a chuckle, lost in thoughts of his girlfriend.

“I know, Sammy,” Dean says, and Sam can hear the smile in his older brother’s voice. “She can’t come, right?” he checks. 

“No, it’s her friend’s birthday, so they’re having a girls night,” Sam says, sounding slightly less enthusiastic than he meant to. 

“What’s the matter? Y/N got you so pussy whipped already that you can’t stand the thought of being away from her for one night?” Dean laughs, and Sam chuckles along with him.

His brother isn’t completely wrong. He and Y/N have been dating for almost three months and are blissfully in the honeymoon period of their relationship, where they can’t get enough of each other or bear to be apart for too long.

“No, it’s… I’m just tired, is all. It’s been a long week at the office. And it’s the firm’s family day tomorrow, so I’ll see Y/N then, anyway.”

“That’s right. She’s meeting all the big guns for the first time! Are you nervous?” Dean asks, and Sam sighs loudly.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t be. I mean, who cares if they like her, right? Because I do, and that’s all that matters. It’s just… if I want to make partner one day, things like stable relationships and who your other half is seems to have a say in it,” Sam admits.

“They’re gonna love her, man. I think it’d be hard for anyone not to fall in love with her,” Dean reassures him. “You found a good one, Sammy. Hold onto her.”

“I know, I will.”

Despite his earlier reluctance to spend the night in a bar with his dad and brother, Sam is having a great time. With work and Y/N, it’d been a while since he’s spent this much time with them, making him feel a little guilty.

Sam’s worries about his dad and Dean teasing him about ‘his girl’ are quickly dampened when his dad asks if things are serious between them. Both men had smiled and clapped him on the back at his confirmation that it was and that he was confident she was it for him. The only slightly teasing remark so far has been from his dad.

“Better start saving for a ring, son,” John chuckles.

With both men grinning at him like idiots, Sam feels a hand slide across his shoulders. “I’m flattered, but I have a girlfriend,” he says without turning around.

“No, I’m flattered,” Y/N responds, and he smiles before turning to face his girlfriend. “And very reassured.”

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here? I thought girls’ night was across town?” Sam asks as he stands to kiss her.

“Well,” Y/N huffs with a roll of her eyes. “It was, and we were having a great time, but Charlie dragged us all the way over here because she found out the girl she’s crushing on works here. And, you know, can’t say no to the birthday girl!”

“Well, can’t say I’m not happy about that,” Sam chuckles, placing his arm around her shoulders. “You look beautiful, baby.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and glances down his body before she speaks again. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear plaid before. I like it. It’s a good look on you,” she stretches up on her tiptoes to kiss him again.

“Noted,” Sam chuckles, and Y/N giggles.

“Alright, I’ve had enough of this lovey-dovey bullcrap. Makes me wanna vomit,” Dean winks to show his jest and stands from the table. “Can I get you a drink, sweetheart?”

“No, thanks,” Y/N shakes her head. “I have one waiting for me at my table and probably three tequila shots by now. I just wanted to come over and say hi.”

“Do you, uh, wanna come to my place when you’re, you know?” Sam asks quietly, hoping it’s quiet enough that only she can hear him. His dad’s chuckle and Dean’s slap on the back, and a “Get it, Sammy!” make him want a hole to open in the ground and swallow him.

Y/N laughs, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment before he watches her take a deep breath and pull herself together.

“I’d love to, Sam. But the cardinal rule of girls night is that you can’t bail on girls night. Especially for a guy. You know that, right? It’s the whole ‘chicks before dicks’ thing. So, there is no way I’m getting to sneak away from that,” Y/N points to the table of women laughing loudly and downing shots, “before midnight.”

“I’ll wait up,” Sam grins charmingly with a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes, watching Y/N’s facial expressions intently as she takes in and interprets his meaning.

“Well, alright then. Guess I’ll see you later,” Y/N said, biting on her plump bottom lip.

“Yeah, you will. Have a good night, baby,” Sam leans down and presses another kiss to her lips.

“You too,” Y/N smirks, pulling Sam down by the lapels of his shirt for one last kiss. “It was good to see you again, John,” she smiles as she reluctantly parts from Sam.

“And you, sweetheart,” John smiles. “You’ll be over for dinner on Sunday, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Y/N returns his smile before turning her attention to the eldest Winchester son. “Dean, that table,” she gestures in the general direction of where her friends are, “is out of bounds.”

“What? But why? Come on, Y/N! There are some real hotties over—” Dean tries, but Y/N’s warning scowl and raised eyebrow make him back down.

“I mean it, Dean! I don’t want my friends badgering me for your number, or with questions about what they did wrong, or asking me to ask Sam to ask you why you didn’t call,” Y/N chuckles.

“Fine,” Dean huffs in resignation before walking over to the bar.

“Good. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Y/N’S POV

12:45am

The cab pulls away from the curb, and you walk up the path to Sam’s house. Stopping at the door, you take a second to fluff your hair. You’ve never been like this before; never bothering too much about your appearance and certainly never for a guy. Still, you found yourself touching up your makeup and perfume before leaving the bar to come over here, making sure you look perfect for him.

You ring the doorbell and nervously shuffle from foot to foot, wondering if the butterflies you feel with Sam will ever go away. You hope not, as the flutter turns into a swarm when you hear the door unlocking.

“Hey, baby,” Sam smirks, eyes slowly taking in every inch of you. “Glad you came.”

“Well,” you grin as Sam steps to the side, inviting you into his home. “I know what kinda night I’m in for, and I would be a fool to miss out on this.” You trail your fingers up his chest, grab the neck of his t-shirt, and pull him down to meet your lips, kicking the door closed behind you.

Sam pushes his tongue into your mouth and shoves you against the door. He quickly turns the lock, shutting you in for the night. The kiss is hot and heavy, and you whimper as his fingers tug at the zip of your dress.

You shimmy the material down your body and let it pool at your feet, leaving you only in cobalt blue lace underwear. Sam growls, grabbing your thighs and pulling you up his body. You wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, as his lips find their place on your cleavage, licking and sucking your skin.

Sam’s hand trails up your back and into your hair, pulling it hard enough to force your head back and gain access to your neck. He sucks and nips gently, cautious not to leave a mark, knowing tomorrow is an important day for both of you.

“Sam,” you groan, and fuck, is it the neediest and most pathetic you’ve ever heard yourself. “Need you.”

“Yeah?” Sam rasps, his voice deepened with lust. “Right here, baby?”

“Yes,” you gasp, already breathless, and he’s barely touched you yet.

Sliding his hand over your thigh and pushing it between your bodies, Sam pulls your underwear to the side and, without warning, shoves two fingers inside you. He barely lets you adjust to the intrusion as he immediately begins to thrust his fingers in and out of your tight, wet channel, smirking as you moan his name. 

Curling his fingers inside you, he watches your head fall back and thump against the door. “Fuck,” you grunt, your hands dropping from his shoulders and desperately fumbling with his belt. You love it when Sam builds the pleasure and teases you, but you can’t, not tonight. Tonight you need him now.

“Hey, what’s the hurry, baby? We’ve got all night,” Sam chuckles, but you don’t stop undoing his pants, finally pulling his belt loose and moving quickly to the button on his jeans.

With his jeans finally undone, your hand delves into his boxers and finds their prize. Sam is already fully hard, and you grip his cock and pump your fist as best you can while pinned against his door.

Sam growls when your thumb swipes over his sensitive head, turning you on even more. The wet sound that gets louder and louder with every pump of his fingers inside you should embarrass you, but instead, you moan.

“Fuck, baby,” Sam groans lowly into your ear. “I need to be in you.”

“Yes! Please, Sam,” you whimper as his fingers suddenly leave you empty and wanting. He pulls your hands off his cock and teases your clit with its tip before he pushes inside you in one slow thrust.

“Shit,” you whine, still not used to his generous length stretching and filling you so completely. You’ve never had anyone reach so deeply within you, and you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

Sam holds himself fully sheathed inside you, this time allowing your fluttering walls time to stretch to accommodate him, and his lips find yours in a passionate kiss that’s all teeth and tongue.

The second you feel yourself relax around him, he pulls out to the tip and slams back in, punching the air from your lungs. He doesn’t let up, pounding into you ferociously, and your high builds quickly.

Sam’s large hands grip your thighs, and you groan loudly, trying to remember to choose a long dress or pants to wear tomorrow because you can already feel bruises forming where his fingertips are digging into your soft muscle.

It’s become one of your favourite things; the colourful little bruises that litter your skin thanks to his groping hands. He’s an animal in the bedroom, but when it’s over, he always places soft kisses on every mark he leaves in his carnal state.

“Sam, I’m close,” you whine as you slide your hands into his hair and tug on the long strands.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. I can feel it,” Sam says through gritted teeth. Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you, and you growl in frustration, tugging his hair harder to emphasise your displeasure.

“What the—? Sam, come on! I was nearly there!” You whine, pouting at him when he chuckles, tightening his grip on you and walking towards the sofa.

“I know, and I wanna watch you,” Sam smirks, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“Watch me?” you murmur breathlessly.

“I wanna watch you come, and I wanna do it while you ride me.” Sam’s lopsided smirk creates another pool of wetness in your core, and you seem to have lost the ability to speak. “Is that alright, baby?” You nod and gulp, your words still failing you.

“Alright,” Sam says as he unwraps your legs from his waist and puts you down on shaky legs. He pulls your underwear down enough that it falls to your feet before ridding himself of all his clothing.

“Then get riding.” He smacks your ass, sits on the couch, and waits for you to climb onto his lap. You stretch your arms behind your back, ready to unclasp your bra, but Sam clicking his tongue stops you.

“Uh uh, baby. Leave it on,” Sam grins, and you smirk as you finally climb onto his lap and take his cock in your hand, placing it at your entrance and sinking down slowly. When your skin meets his, your head falls back with a gasp.

Sam’s hands drag up your body, pausing to toy with your nipples behind the blue lace. He slides the straps down your shoulders, exposing your hardening buds to the cool air briefly before his lips cover one and his hand the other.

Raising your hips up and down his length, you find a rhythm and angle that lets you feel every ridge of him glide perfectly between your walls, hitting all the right spots and making you see stars.

“Sam, baby, I…” You grind your hips through your orgasm, and Sam grunts as your walls clench him.

“That’s it, good girl,” Sam murmurs, kissing your sweat-slicked chest. “Hold onto me, baby.” He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders; you know it’s his turn now, and he won’t stop until he gets what he wants.

Sam lifts you and lays you on the couch, moving your hands from his shoulders and placing them above your head, trapping them with just one of his own. His other hand grips your thigh and pushes it, forcing your legs to open wide for him.

The first thrust is heaven, hitting everywhere all at once, and you and Sam’s grunting confirms that your walls are still fluttering, clenching, and sucking him in.

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” Sam groans, his hips moving impossibly faster and pushing in deeper and deeper.

Your eyes roll, and you scream Sam’s name as he sends you soaring over the edge again, taking him with you.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Sam gasps, grinding himself into you, and you feel his release coat your quivering walls. “Fuck, my girl’s got a good pussy. So fucking good, baby.” You’d giggle at his praise if you hadn’t lost the ability to breathe, let alone speak.

Sam drops his head to your chest, kissing over every inch as he grinds against your cervix. You moan with every twitch of him inside you, and when his kisses turn to bites and sucks, you add a high neckline to the list of requirements for tomorrow’s outfit.

He lets go of your hands, and they instantly go to him, wrapping around his back and holding him against you for a little longer.

“I love you,” Sam says, leaving your breasts alone to look at you.

“Yeah?” you smile widely. It’s the first time either of you has said it, and it feels good. It feels right. “You’re not just saying that in your post-orgasmic haze?” you chuckle.

“No. I have for a while now. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Sam.”

Tags: @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @octoberclidan @nelachu2423 @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

[abibliophobiaa]

Beyond — s.h. x f!reader

Chapter Eight: You’re the Best Part

summary: you head to vail for thanksgiving and things maybe don’t quite go as planned.

warnings: sick mention, r and steve; reminder that r does have a family for the sake of the fake marriage plot; mother has passed, parent loss talk.

modern day! rich! fake husband! steve harrington x afab! reader.

masterlist

——

Your plans to happily return the favor for Steve when he gets home don’t quite pan out the way you want them to.

Why?

Well, it seems the world has its own plans. And those plans apparently don’t involve getting your mouth on the man and learning what your name sounds like coming from his lips while he’s falling apart for you.

What’s the saying again? You make plans, and the big guy upstairs laughs? Yeah—that one.

It’s around three when Steve appears at the entryway to the penthouse. Pale in the face, coughing up a storm, sweat lining his brow. He’s out of it; a simple, cursory glance tells you that much. That and the fact when Charlie rushes over to greet him, Steve barely brushes his hand over the puppy’s head, and instead seeks out the comfort of you.

His hulking form stops at the edge of the couch, shoes kicked haphazardly onto the floor as he lowers himself down. Rests his head in your lap and groans his defeat, ringed hand curling around the span of your thigh, hugging you closer. Were this any other day in the exciting newness of your relationship, you would sigh and dreamily run your fingers through his hair. But as your fingers brush along his brow, you find he’s hot there.

Burning hot. Feverish in a way that has you tugging at his shoulder until he can look up at you. Dark circles shadow his under eyes. His skin seems paler than usual, too. Exhaling, you reach over and cup his cheek, thumb trailing over the curve of his jaw. Smile down at him as he leans into the touch, eyes closing. The same hand then turns over and presses against his forehead and confirms that, yes, Steve is definitely sick. Unfortunately enough, right before the holiday, too.

“I’m calling your doctor—”

“No, no, no,” Steve groans, turning his head into your stomach, where he ends up coughing into your hoodie, apologizing for doing so. “I just want to sleep.”

“After I call the doctor,” you tell him, fingers carding through his hair. “You’re burning up, Steve. I knew you felt warm this morning.”

“Please,” he mumbles, “no doctor.”

——

Dr. Murray Bauman is an…interesting man, to say the least. When you call, after effectively getting Steve to lay down in bed, he sounds like he’s in the middle of a war zone. And you wonder briefly if you can hear angry voices in the distance.

He asks you a multitude of questions, the first being who the hell you are calling for Steve Harrington, but when you tell him you’re his wife, he only awkwardly laughs, stating he didn’t know Steve had finally settled down, before regaling you a story about Steve from when he’d been a younger boy.

“He’ll be here in a half hour, he said,” you tell Steve, before reaching for his phone and holding it in front of his face. It unlocks and you immediately search for Hailey’s number in his contacts. You hadn’t met her yet. Well, except for the brief greeting at your wedding. But you’d heard enough to know she’s kind and your husband couldn’t do half of what he does without her. She picks up on the first ring and greets you. “Hello, Hailey?”

“This is her,” she says. A hint of uncertainty creeps down the line. “May I ask who’s calling?”

“Mrs. Harrington—”

Steve, who suddenly realizes what you’re doing, reaches out to grab at your hand dangling limply at your side. Tries to tug you closer, but you raise a hand in warning. “Wait, wait, wait—”

“Mrs. Harrington! It’s been a while. Is everything okay?”

“Actually,” you say, rubbing at Steve’s shoulder, grinning to yourself as he huffs a bit but otherwise leans into your affection, “I’m calling because Steve’s going to need to cancel the rest of his meetings for today. Maybe the next couple of days, actually.”

“I told him he sounded like shit.” She pauses, chuckling nervously. “Sorry—didn’t mean to say that. He just sounded terrible, so I suggested he go home early. Thank you for letting me know.”

“No problem.” You wait a moment and then, “Thanks for the flowers, by the way. Steve mentioned you had them sent.”

“Oh, no. That was all Mr. Harrington,” she says, and your chest flutters with the notion of her words. “I just helped pick them out. Okay—so I’ve gone ahead and canceled all his meetings through the holiday and the week after.”

“You’re wonderful, Hailey. Thank you! And I hope you enjoy the holiday,” you say truthfully, settling down onto the bed beside Steve, rubbing his back through another lovely coughing fit. “We’ll talk soon.”

The line goes dead. You place the phone down onto the bedside table beside your husband and help slide his glasses off of his face for good measure. As his eyes meet yours, you want to lean down and wrap your arms around him. He looks younger than his years, more boyish somehow, the tiredness in his eyes alluding to just how sick he actually is. You hope Dr. Bauman hurries, if only so he can get some much needed rest.

“Canceled my meetings, huh?” He asks between the rumbly heaves of his chest.

“Think of it as an extended vacation.”

“Forced,” Steve emphasizes, rolling over so you can allow him into the circle of your arms. His head rests on your chest, the blankets you draped over him high up on his shoulders. “You shouldn’t even be in here; you’re going to get sick.”

“Pretty sure what we did earlier will get me sick anyway. That and the fact I’ve shared a bed with you for a bit now.” Your fingers card through his hair, your other palm rubbing up and down the achy muscles of his back. “Plus, what better way to test our vows? In sickness and in health, right?”

You step out of the room when Dr. Bauman arrives and immediately starts taking your husband’s vitals, wanting to give him a little privacy. Charlie bounds over to you in the kitchen as you search for something to throw together for dinner. You hadn’t really planned on eating home with Thanksgiving being so close, and the two of you about to spend a few days at Mrs. Harrington’s home. But now that you stare at an empty fridge, you realize maybe a little forethought might have saved you from the bare shelves you’re greeted with upon opening.

Pushing it shut, you pluck your phone from your pocket, scrolling through a list of nearby restaurants when you hear your name being called from down the hall. Dr. Bauman is tossing his stethoscope and other equipment into a black bag as you knock on the doorframe, his eyes tipping up to greet yours.

“It’s the flu,” he says, tapping away at an iPad resting on his forearm. “I already sent his prescription out to be filled. Lots of rest. No work. Lots of fluids. Limited shenanigans…of the, uh, newlywed kind. Maybe a warm shower to clear up some of the shit that’s rattling around in your chest.”

Steve rolls his eyes and Murray claps him on the shoulder. You definitely don’t understand their relationship. “I also ordered you a script for a preemptive antiviral,” Murray says to you, hoisting his bag up and over his shoulder. “You know my number, obviously. I’ll be around should you need me.”

“But you highly suggest I don’t,” Steve grouses from the bed.

“You get it, kid,” the older man says, petting Charlie as he bounces into the bedroom, wanting to see what all the fuss is about. “You’ll get a text when your prescriptions are ready. But other than that, I think you’re all good to go. Take care.”

Just as quickly as the man arrives, he’s gone, leaving you alone with your husband once more. “Told you that you needed to slow down,” you tell him, climbing back into bed and resuming your prior position. Steve’s head against your chest, his arms looped around your waist, wanting to simply be close to another person when every inch of him aches with fever. “Want me to make you anything? Tea? Soup. Well…we don’t really have food. I didn’t get groceries because of Thanksgiving.”

“Just wanna lay here,” he grumbles against your sweater, “…but I wouldn’t mind soup later.”

“Then I’ll order you some, handsome.” You chuckle, fingers running through his hair, listening to his sighing breath as he edges closer and closer to sleep. “Definitely not how I pictured our afternoon.”

“Rain check?” he asks, and you know then he’s really sick, as he spent the earlier half of the afternoon texting you about how he couldn’t wait to get home and resume what you both started in your kitchen.

“I’m holding you to it, Harrington,” you laugh, rubbing at the right muscles at the base of his spine. Hot breath spills from his lips, warming you through the material of your shirt. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

He doesn’t even argue.

An hour later, you’re in the middle of watching some silly dating show on Netflix when your little sister, Caroline, tries to FaceTime. Steve’s still sprawling out against your chest, but rises up onto his elbows and tells you to pick it up. To which you question if he’s sure. A moment later, he shifts so his back is against the headboard of the bed and hits the answer call button, watching the younger girl’s face light up on the other line.

“Hey, sissy,” she says brightly, then peers further at the screen and sees Steve there. “And brother-in-law.”

“Hey!” You smile warmly.

“Are you two sleeping?”

“No, no,” you reassure her. “Steve’s got the flu, so we’re laying low for the day. What are you up to?”

“Just sitting around,” she says, nearly dropping her phone as she maneuvers around Gram’s kitchen. “Dad’s with Gram. You know how it is.”

“How’s he doing?” You frown, biting at your bottom lip. Doesn’t matter how long Mom has been gone, the holidays are always hard on him. “Do you need me to come home?”

“No. No.” She tugs her hair over her shoulder, strings of her hoodie curled around her fingertips. She’s so cute and you miss her so much that you wish you could smack kisses to both her cheeks. “We’re okay. Eddie stopped by yesterday with Uncle Wayne. And then I just realized how much I missed you.”

“I miss you too, sweetie,” you sigh, breaking off into a watery laugh. Steve reaches over across your lap and curls your palm in his. “But I’ll see you next month, right? Gonna bring this guy with me too. Hope that’s okay?”

“Mmmm,” she considers, head tilting to the side. “Not sure about him yet.”

Steve points a thumb at himself, earning a laugh from your little sister. “Guess I’ll have to return the gifts I got for my little sister.”

“You got me gifts?”

He shrugs. “Depends. Am I invited?”

“Fine. Fine,” she giggles airily, beaming so bright your own cheeks hurt. “How’s Charlie?”

Charlie, at the mere mention of his name, hops up onto the bed. Despite the fact he knows he’s not supposed to. You both haven’t really made it a habit of letting him sleep with you two; especially not when you’re still getting used to using your own bedroom as storage space for your clothes and things, and sharing his.

Referring to it as yours.

As of late, you’ve started placing your things in Steve’s bathroom. In one of his drawers. A robe in his closet. Slippers near his bedside. Your books on his bedside table. Neither of you had said anything about it. It just felt like the natural progression of things.

“Hi, Charlie!” Caroline enthuses, earning a loud yip from the puppy. Steve’s hand rubs over his floppy head, drawing your gaze to his sleep-addled features. “Hey, sissy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come visit soon?”

You glance at Steve in question, who merely says, “It’s your home.”

At that, you want so badly to lean over and kiss him. To thank him silently, to reveal those feelings that keep growing stronger for him every day through touch. In the only tangible way you know how exactly to express the inner workings of your heart.

“Any time, sweetie. Tell me when and I’ll book you a flight to come visit, okay?”

Her smile grows wider, and you can’t help but think about how she looks just like your mother. How your little sister is growing so fast. Things are changing. In your life, your career, your marriage, your family.

“Are you okay?” Caroline asks, brows furrowing high on her forehead.

“You’re just so beautiful,” you tell her honestly, sniffling, “you look just like Mom.”

“Nooo don’t do the water works. I’m going to vom—”

“You’re just—”

“I love you,” she says, shifting onto her elbows at the kitchen table she’s sitting at.

And she never says that. Always so buried in her phone. Making her TikTok videos. Texting her friends. Scrolling social media sites. Your heart soars with her words. Chest aches and burns with the feelings that rise up because of them.

“I love you too.”

The three of you spend a good chunk of the afternoon simply talking. Asking Caroline questions about school, you and Steve about work and your studies. Caroline even goes so far as to ask Steve ice breaker questions and riddles, and he’s terrible at them, feigning that it’s his sickness making it hard for him to answer any correctly.

After a while, your father’s tired face appears in the phone camera, alerting you he’s just spent the better part of the afternoon tending to cooking dinner. Gram is overjoyed not only to see you, but gawks over the fact that, even while sick, your husband is handsome as ever.

Steve leans into you bashfully at that, and you tousle the strands of his hair, and Gram thinks because she’s older she can casually blurt out, “The look he’s giving you right now is the same look your grandfather gave me the night we ended up—”

“You know what? I need to go pick up Steve’s medicine from the pharmacy and probably go and grab us some dinner,” you tell them, shoulder bumping into Steve’s, “I love you all so much. We’ll see you soon!”

It’s a chorus of goodbyes. A barrage of I love yous. A plethora of see you soons. Steve glows with the onslaught of affection. Tops of his cheeks stain bright under their well wishes, his lips tugging into a broad smile. The phone screen goes black and you toss it onto the bedside table, shifting onto your side beside Steve.

“They’re pretty great.”

“They’re…” A lot. Overbearing. Ridiculous (Gram mostly). But you catch the hopefulness on his face. Picture your husband, younger in age, alone in a crowded room wanting, searching, vying for someone to notice him. “They’re your family too now, you know?”

He opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is an endless coughing fit. His mouth presses into his elbow, your fingers running soothing lines up and down his bicep, waiting until it passes to clamber out of the bed and snatch your phone from the bedside table.

“I’m going to run to the pharmacy. You should try and get in the shower like Dr. Murray suggested.”

“I might need your help for that.”

Heat curls low in your belly. “I’m going to blame the mucus in your head for that one, lover boy. Get in the shower, I’ll run out quickly, and then we can spend the rest of the afternoon relaxing. Because those were the doctor’s orders. No work.”

“My whole body hurts,” he grumbles, leaning into your frame as you rush around to his side of the bed and help him along the way to the master bathroom. “I couldn’t work even if I wanted to.”

Steve watches from the edge of the bathtub as you shuffle about, gathering things as you go. A towel on the outside of the shower cubicle. New soap. His fluffiest robe. He’s about to open his mouth to speak, but you’re tucking a thermometer in his mouth, watching his mouth downturn into a pout.

A moment later, it beeps.

“One hundred and one,” you murmur, placing the device back in its proper holder. He groans, leaning into your abdomen, your arm curling around his shoulders to keep him close. “Bet you’re feeling all kinds of achy right now. I’ll be right back, okay? And then I’m here for whatever you need.”

——

When you return, Steve’s already propped up in bed on a mountain of pillows. The box of tissues beside him looks freshly opened, his nose a bright red that has your stomach dipping for him. He’s foregone his usual sleeping routine of wearing no shirt. Instead, he wears a hoodie with some sports logo you're unfamiliar with on, hips covered in the bedspread.

On one hand, you have his soup. In the other, the medicine he’s meant to take for the next few days. He accepts both greedily. As greedily as one who looks very much ghostly at this point can, normally tan skin pale, eyes heavy lidded.

“What are you watching there, handsome?” you ask, remaining near his hip, taking the garbage from him once he’s taken out his things.

“Some show where these people bake and you have to guess if the items are cake or not.” He’s so stuffy now, and you can’t help but giggle at the change in his voice. “You can’t make fun of your husband when he’s sick.”

“Is that a rule?”

“It was one of our vows, actually,” he says, glancing about the bedside table momentarily.

“Must have forgotten that one. Need something?” you ask, combing your fingers through his hair.

He leans into the touch. “Some water, please?”

You make your way over to the bedroom door, fingers curling around the frame, just as he speaks again, “Oh, and some more tissues?”

The box felt mostly full, but you toss him a smile over your shoulder all the same, fondness welling in your chest for the man.

“Can you fluff my pillows, baby?”

At that, you whirl back around, brows arching. “Yeah?”

He grins as you lean over him, chest nearly brushing his face, smacking both sides of said pillows. “Maybe tuck me in while you’re at it?”

Now you’re snorting, but reaching down around his waist to start pushing fabric into place near his hips, drawing back when he stops you in your movements. “Is that not good?”

“I’m just messing with you, honey.”

You shove him. Hard.

“Hey! I’m sick.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass, Mr. Harrington.”

“But you love it, Mrs. Harrington.”

And you’re speechless.

Because he’s right, and there’s nothing you can say to refute that fact at this point.

A fact that becomes more and more clear every day.

——

All in all, you really do both get the opportunity to work out those in sickness and in health vows. Because about twenty four hours into Steve being sick, you start to feel run down, and about twelve hours after that, the two of you spend the better part of five days sleeping and holding one another in bed, watching mindless reality television shows, and coaxing Charlie to join you both so he can curl up near your feet and keep a watchful eye on you both.

Eddie calls on the first day you’re both down for the count. Checks in to see if you need anything, offers to drop off food, and pick up anything you might need from the grocery store. Hopper ends up sending food up to the penthouse, cooked by Joyce herself, and joined by some freshly baked chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

On day two, Robin and Nancy stop in, keeping a far distance, but end up cleaning around the house since you hadn’t really had a chance to before your own fever and body aches kicked in.

After that, your friends and family alternate until you’re both back on the mend. And it’s not long before Steve has a healthy glow back in his face and you can breathe through your nose once more.

The day before Thanksgiving, you both pack up your things in suitcases and send off Charlie to go stay with Joyce and Hopper for the duration of your trip. The kids, El and Will, are overjoyed at the prospect of spending time with the puppy and promise to keep him safe and feed him all the treats if he’s well behaved.

Sighing a hum of relief, you slam your passenger side door shut, wincing as Steve slams the trunk closed before joining you within. He thumps against the headrest, left hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching over the center console you lace his fingers through yours. You beam up at him, heat crawling along flesh, and give his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Ready to go, Harrington?”

He puts the car into gear, and you’re off.

——

Mrs. Harrington’s second home is beautiful. More than you could ever imagine. After a five hour flight and a short drive from the airport to the front gates, you’re greeted by a worker who allows Steve to pass in the rental car, weaving up cobblestone roads through an endless sea of trees in what feels like the middle of nowhere Vail, Colorado.

The home is gorgeous. Nestled in the middle of lush greenery is a luxurious mansion adorned with endless rustic charm. Glowing lights spill from the giant windows, illuminating the wrap-around stone patio that compliments the blend of timeless stone and timber exterior of the pale walls boasting of the multiple floors within the home. From where you’re standing you can see the garden off to the right side of the home and the pond trickling amidst her blooms.

“This is how all the good scary movies start…” you say, leaning your head back to take in the towering home standing before you. “Giant home in the middle of nowhere.”

“Is that so?” He’s laughing, sides shaking with it as he grips your suitcase and tugs it after him. “Come on, honey. No one is about to hop out of the woods.”

“How do you know?” Your brow arches high on your forehead, breaking off into a snort he rolls his eyes at.

“Come on.” He tugs you along beside him, your shoulders bumping at the proximity. “My mom can hardly wait another minute to see us if her dozens of texts were any indication.”

He’s not wrong.

She’s there in a flurry of movement to greet you, patting you both on the backs of your heads, overjoyed that you’re both feeling better.

The inside is just as magnificent. Vaulted ceilings, white walls with wooden decor. A burning fireplace in the middle of one of the largest living rooms you’ve ever seen, attached to a kitchen that looks the size of your old apartment. She walks you through the rest of the home, revealing room after room of generational wealth. Old money that runs in Steve’s blood—a fact you often forget, because he’s never been one for the lavish or lofty.

It dawns on you that this is what he’s used to. Holidays in the Hamptons, vacation homes in Vail and on tropical islands, cars that cost a salary.

Noting your stupor, Steve curls an arm around your shoulder, back of his hand on your forehead. “Still feeling okay?”

“I’m okay,” you reassure him with a smile, jolting as Mrs. Harrington whirls on you both and catches the two of you in the middle of a private moment.

“Well aren’t you two just lovely. I’m really so happy you could make it.” She claps her hands excitedly. “You’re the first ones here. I’ll show you to your room. I’m sorry it’s across from mine, I just figured with Cami, Theo and the kids, you two would want a little peace and quiet.”

And absolutely no privacy, you think, taking in the short distance between your bedroom and Mrs. Harrington’s. And it’s not like you’d anticipated anything happening, but you couldn’t help but to wonder if something might have. The room is lovely. A king sized bed with cream colored sheets. Various sandy colored decorations. Plants hanging in the bedroom window. A dresser that you easily slide your things into, and the adjoining bathroom just next to the room. Up above a sparking chandelier dangles, shards that look like mirrors cutting yours and Steve’s forms into dozens of miniature versions of yourselves that you stare back at.

She gives you a moment to unpack and destress, and you’re barely aware of the bedroom door clicking shut before Steve’s crawling over your form on the bed. You hum into his lips as they claim yours, days of doing nothing but sleeping, making your insides burn, craving more. Always more of him these days. A sigh falls from your parted lips as he pastes endless kisses to your neck. Until you’re writhing beneath him, cheeks burning up, fingers clutching at his biceps.

“Not in your mother’s home,” you giggle, breathless and giddy from his attention. “I’m serious, Steve. I'm still trying to make a good impression.”

He flops over onto his side, hair freshly cut and beard freshly shaven. He’s perfect. The slope of his nose, the curve of those cheekbones, the cut of his jaw. Your forehead leans into his, fingers trailing over the thin sweater covering his abdomen, before trailing beneath, roaming over sinewy muscle. The divots and indentations from hours spent in the gym, the patch of hair that slips down past his belt, always teasing—tempting.

“We’re in my mother’s house,” he reminds you as your fingers trail lower, toying with the too expensive buckle on his belt, eyes following the path of your touch, “isn’t that what you said? Plus, if I remember correctly, you’re not one to keep quiet.”

“I changed my mind. I can be so quiet,” you argue frostily, earning a chuckle from the man. “Like a little church mouse.”

“As much as I would love to test that theory, I think that’s the doorbell.”

Theobald and Cami.

You groan, burying your face into his shoulder.

——

You’ve decided on a silky burgundy dress for Thanksgiving dinner. Long sleeves glide over your arms, the deep neckline drawing Steve’s gaze from where he sits on the edge of the bed fastening his cufflinks with his diamond encrusted initial in the center.

He looks handsome as ever. A pair of dark pants, his suit jacket, a pop of burgundy on his necktie that matches what you’ve worn. He’s gotten a haircut, his hair no longer falling around his jaw. Instead it’s a bit shorter, coiffed perfectly on his head, and that hair along his jawline has been shaved once more, leaving him fresh faced and glowy after his shower.

Exhaling deeply, you run your fingers over the fabric, turning to and fro, taking in your image in the mirror, making sure the fit is immaculate, before turning to face him.

“Good?”

“Perfect,” he whispers a little breathlessly, crossing the room to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He holds out a hand and you clasp it, allowing him to lead you to the bedroom door. “Shall we?”

Your nose wrinkles. “We shall.”

Despite the face dinner is taking place at Mrs. Harrington’s home, she hired a full wait staff for the evening, along with a private chef. The dining room—though you thought it more akin to a dining hall—is decked to the nines with all the finest offerings. She’s gone for the vintage plates and freshly polished silverware. Wine glasses sparkle all around the table, illuminated by the candles down the center of the velvet runner.

Cami’s familiar head of curls lifts first as you enter, her hands that were moving to fix the lapels of her son’s suit jacket moving to draw you in for a hug as she rushes over to greet you and Steve in the entryway.

“Oh we are so happy to hear you two are doing better,” she gushes, patting Steve affectionately on the cheek. Like he’s a puppy like Charlie—like a child. You catch the wince as she pinches the skin there and gives it a wiggle, and then moves to grab your hand like this isn’t only the third time you’ve seen her in the five months you’ve been married to her family member. “Let me introduce you to my two little babies. They’d been with the au pair the night of your wedding. This right here is Harriet, and here is Holden.”

Twins. Harriet and Holden Harrington are twins, and they look absolutely nothing like their father and that fact alone has your lips twitching up in laughter. Because the sweet little ones sitting across from you with eyes that remind you so much of Steve’s are red headed and just as freckly as their mom is. Adorable, in a way that has your insides melting, reaching out to Steve to grasp onto something as you bend down and finally greet them both.

“Hi,” you whisper, telling them your name. “I’m your cousin Steve’s wife. It’s so nice to meet you! How old are you two?”

“We’re seven,” Harriet says demurely, her little nose turning upward just the slightest as she adds, “almost eight.”

Cami giggles brightly. “And nearly ripped my a—”

“Cami, dear,” Theobald interjects, appearing in the doorway with a bottle of wine that looks older than you are. He’s swaying a bit on his feet, the glass of whiskey in his free hand alerting to what he’s gotten up to before you came down for dinner. “Well, hello there. We were wondering when you two would come out to join us.”

“It’s been a long week,” Steve reminds him, curling an arm around your waist. “My wife and I were sick.”

“That’s right,” his cousin says, glancing down at the label on the bottle, uninterested. “What a misfortune that was. Canceled all your meetings that week, but don’t worry—I took care of things.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, leading you to your chair, and the tautness in his muscles alerts you this is not a good thing Theo has done. He slides forward as you sit down and presses a kiss to the side of your head before joining on your right. “Sweetheart, would you mind passing me that bottle?”

“Why don’t we open the vintage?” Theobald suggests, holding aloft his latest discovery from the wine cellar you’d passed on your short tour around the premises of the Mrs. Harrington’s home.

The room settles into an uncomfortable silence. Minus that of the children’s chatter and their father’s requests for them to behave like ‘civilized human beings and not like wild animals at the dinner table.’ At which you sink further into your chair, grateful for the weight of Steve’s left hand on your thigh.

Mrs. Harrington has already made herself comfortable at the head of the table by the time the wait staff comes around to declare the menu offerings for the evening. A four course meal, with ample options to choose from. Everyone orders and the salads are brought out for the first course, when the room starts to shift.

Or rather, Theobald starts to shift. “So, I’m really glad to see the two of you thriving. So happily in love, aren’t they?”

“They’re just lovely,” Mrs. Harrington agrees from where she sits beside her son, cupping his jaw lovingly. “She loves my son so well.”

Your heart aches at her words, at the honesty behind them. She truly, undoubtedly believes that you love her son. And maybe you’re starting to. You’re not sure. In the past, you’ve never really thought much on the topic of love. Had never had time for relationships, always buried in schoolwork, trying to stay afloat, get ahead. Love had always been a maybe. A someday. Not a necessity. Not something you’d ever base your happiness off of. But all around you you’d seen people giddy with it. Your own parents, Robin and Nancy, Eddie and the way he felt about Chrissy.

You knew you were fond of Steve. Knew you loved him like you did Robin. Like you did Eddie. The way you loved Charlie. And yet—and yet there’s a whisper in the back of your mind. A tendril or something new growing. Unnamed still, but with the humble beginnings of something special. Something waiting to be tended to, lured into the light, encouraged.

“How is everything going with school, dear?” Mrs. Harrington asks you, and Theobald’s face twitches from where he sits beside you.

“Oh—it’s great,” you tell her, swallowing your sip of wine. “Clinicals are going well. I’m on my fall break right now. Just a few more months and I’ll be a veterinarian.”

“Doctor Harrington,” Steve says, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss against the back of your knuckles. “So proud of you, honey. She works harder than anyone I know. Runs a business, takes care of Charlie and me.”

“You know, it’s a wonder how you’re affording it,” Theo mutters, drawing the gaze of everyone at the dinner table. At the curious stares, he adds, “Well, the typical cost of veterinary school is somewhere in the hundreds of thousands. And that’s not including what you may have incurred from your undergraduate studies.”

“I’ve worked very hard to stay ahead on my payments,” you splutter out, the lettuce you’d just placed on your tongue turning to acid.

“I’m sure you have,” he says, sounding a little smug. “I, for one, would like to say how happy we are that you’re here. I know the holidays must be hard for you.”

“I—uh, yes.” At Steve’s confusion, you murmur, “We lost my mother this time of year. She’d been sick for a long time.”

He knows that much. Knows she passed, doesn’t know what from. Doesn’t know that your father struggled for years after. That he became a shadow of the person he was for a time—choked off by the grief. That you had to step in and grow up far before you ever should have had to to help raise your little sister. That you watched as the man you loved lost everything he had, and nearly lost the home he loved his wife in for so many years, the home he’d raised his children in, the home he’d wanted to one day have his grandchildren run through the halls of, grow old in, make memories to last a lifetime in.

“I’m also happy to hear your father’s home is no longer in foreclosure.”

Your fork clangs onto the plate at that. “What are you—”

“Seems your father was able to make up for all his missed payments, late fees, and those pesky attorney’s fees. Where might he have gotten all of that money?”

“Theobald,” Cami hisses, leaning over her wine glass to look at you with a pitying stare. “I’m sorry, sweetie. My husband must have over served himself. Isn’t that right, darling?”

“It just seems…interesting, you know?” Theo continues against her wishes, eying you curiously.

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but you jump in before he can. “And what might be so interesting, Mr. Harrington?”

“Initially, I’m going to be honest in saying that I thought you married because you were pregnant. I figured my dear cousin had tried to cover up his mistakes with a shotgun wedding and raise his littlest Harrington as his fortunate heir. But seeing as you are not, I may have hired a private investigator to look into who Steve married.”

“You what?” Steve and his mother balk, anger lining their gazes.

There’s an awkward silence that descends over the room. It’s made more uncomfortable when the wait staff comes in to clear the salad plates and sets down entrees in front of those sitting at the table. Harriet and Holden are chatting amongst themselves, Cami there to help tuck napkins in their collars. Your eyes wander their way, nose sniffling sharply to keep your unshed tears at bay.

Because Theobald Harrington will not see you cry today.

So you’ll beat him to it. You’ll play along with his vicious game.

“Yes, when my mother died my father struggled. I have a little sister, and she was so young at the time. We’ve never been particularly wealthy, so you imagine going from two incomes to one was hard,” you begin, carving at your food hastily. Steve’s hand brushes along the back of your wrist, but you continue, “Bills started piling up. Medical bills are expensive, and it’s not like we had money just laying around by the bucketful like you might. So, yes, he struggled to stay afloat. And I helped him, but a waitress salary at the time could only go so far. Should I continue?”

Theobald leans his chin onto his hand, elbow on the table despite his aunt’s protests. “Humor me.”

“I started my business and have sent him money to pay down what he owes. And yes, the home came out of foreclosure.” You slam your fork down onto the plate below. “No, I’m not pregnant. And if you want me to admit I married Steve for money or something, because that’s what it sounds like you’re insinuating, you’re wrong; I married him because I love him. A word I’m not quite sure you know the meaning of, because you haven’t been a good family member to Steve, and certainly haven’t been one to me either.”

You turn your head to Mrs. Harrington, hot embarrassment burning behind your eyes. “May I be excused for a moment, please? I’m suddenly not feeling very well.”

She nods, eyes a little misty, voice hoarse. “Yes, my dearie.”

The chair beneath you groans, sweaty palm slipping out of Steve’s hand, before your napkin is thrown onto your empty plate. Cami mutters a silent apology, the children stare, Steve stares ahead, jaw tense, and Theo only grins into his wine glass. Smug as ever.

And it’s then, and only then, as you slip into your bedroom that you allow the tears to fall. Because for months you’ve been trying to fit a mold, to be that woman for Steve, to walk in this world as seamlessly as he does.

But you don’t belong, and Theo’s only made that clearer.

——

Steve knows you. Knows beneath that stubborn exterior, the way you’re always flippant and easy to brush things off with a joke, you have a soft heart. He knows you would prefer to divert to humor before accepting an uncomfortability of conflict. Knows you default to protect yourself, because you’ve been doing so for so long. That you’ve built walls around yourself, even if you don’t realize; walls he can see dismantling every day he’s gotten to know you.

Sure, you’ve been romantic for only a short while now, but five months of marriage — of being your friend first — has lent to a deeper understanding. A love that he’s not felt before, growing deeper every day.

So as he watches as you excuse yourself in a blur of tears and choked words, he knows to wait a minute before slamming his napkin down on the table and following you. He knocks first as he approaches your shared bedroom door. Speaks your name into the open space when you don’t answer at first, only to find you curled on your side in bed, holding a pillow flush against your chest.

His first thought is how much he wants to wrap you up in his arms and kiss your sullen face until it lights up with his favorite smile once more. That same smile he thinks is his kryptonite, always brightening your features and effectively robbing him of air. And you don’t even know the power you hold. But he halts near your hip, backside hitting the plus mattress, palm around the dip of your waist. He feels the shake of your sides, the effort of your tears you’re trying to smother in the pillow.

It cleaves his heart right down the middle. Two halves slowly flutter to the bottom of his stomach, lungs tight in his chest like a vice. The last time he saw you cry, it had been just as terrible. You hurt over his actions, eyes red, lids puffy. To think seeing you like this now would be any less heartbreaking is a mistake on his part. Because his heart breaks for what yours does, body slowly sidling up behind yours, your back against his chest, his fingers gradually walking up and down your arm, quiet as your tears start to subside, your breathing evening out.

“Thank you, Steve,” you sniffle after some time has passed with you in his arms.

He exhales deeply as you shift on the bed, turning to face him, wiping at your mascara smudged cheeks. You’re still the prettiest girl in the world, he thinks, without a doubt. Thumbs the corner of your eye where a little dark smudge has started to form, collecting the tear that spills out the corner of your eye.

“Cami started yelling at him when I left, if that makes you feel better,” he says, chest aching when you shake with laughter, burrowing your head into the curve of his shoulder where it meets his chest. Where you’ve always been meant to fit, he realizes. “Said he’s sleeping in the guest bedroom down the hall, and that she’ll stay with the kids. She loves you, you know? She’s a little…intense but she loves you.”

“I’m glad someone does.”

“Hey…” He pushes back a bit to tilt your head up, eyes locking on yours. “My mother loves you too. And I…you’re my wife. You're just as much a Harrington as anyone else at that dinner table, okay?”

“Steve, I don’t belong, and you know that.”

The sound that escapes you is a pitiful thing. A mix between a sob and a moan, more tears spilling down your cheeks when he leans down and presses his lips to yours. Softly, at first, but it quickly grows deeper, his desire to keep you there with him pounding in his blood. Screaming into the space that you belong, you belong, you belong.

“You do belong,” he says, his breath a mere pant against your trembling lips, “you belong with me, okay? That’s all that matters. He’s jealous. He’s jealous because of years of hatred that have started long before I married you and will continue because he’s unhappy. And because he’s unhappy he’s made it his goal to make everyone around him unhappy too.”

He brushes the tears beneath your eyes. Kisses the tracks with the lightest of touches against your face. Nudges your nose until all that remains is that bright, beaming smile. “You’re a Harrington. We’re a team, okay? It’s not a conventional marriage, sure, but you have me. Okay? I’m here for you; it’s okay to let me be here for you.”

He exhales deeply as you sink further into him. Bodies tangling like they’ve done so for years as opposed to weeks. A hand comes up to brush along the back of your head, your fingers splaying in the bunched fabric of his shirt.

“Thank you, Stevie.”

The name is a jolt to his heart. Saccharine sweet and liquid hot in his bloodstream. The arm wound around your waist draws you closer, tighter to him. He wishes he could be closer, wants to memorize every detail of your form, the depths of your eyes, wants to memorize the sounds you make when you fall asleep, the way his name sounds on your lips in utter bliss like that afternoon in the kitchen. He wants it all. For the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he knows.

“He’s not wrong though,” you say after some time. Softly, so softly.

“About?”

“I did marry you for money.”

At that, his lip twitches. “Well, I married you for a company and a title.”

Unconventional. Irresponsible. But as the months slip on by, he knows he wouldn’t change it for the world. He would take thousands of moments like these over and over again. You, in his arms. You, chest to chest, nose to nose, forehead to forehead. Two people wound together and tied together by a contract, now lost in the unfamiliar something more growing.

“I think it ended up being a good business deal, though,” you tell him, eyes boring into his. Like this, he feels raw. Exposed like a nerve. But he’s unafraid. Welcomes it. “Don’t you?”

“I do,” he wholeheartedly agrees, sliding a palm along the contours of your cheek. Relishes in the feeling of you sinking further into the mattress, sleep starting to peek in at the corner or your eyes. “And another thing, you know you could have come to me about your family, right? I didn’t realize that’s what you were doing with your dog walking business.”

“Steve, you’ve already done too much. I’m not asking you for more. Plus, things are okay now. He’s doing well, Caroline is well—I’ve got it handled.”

And, in a way, he knows you have for a long time now. Wonders if you’ve ever just allowed yourself a moment of respite. Of not worrying how the next bill would get paid, wondering if your family would be okay, all while grieving the loss of someone so important. It pains him to think of it, chest heaving with a weight so great it’s nearly suffocating.

But it’s almost like you know, fingers slipping along his chest, pausing at the space against his sternum where his heart pounds loudly in his ears. “Just let me have this and I’m happy. This—you, us, whatever this is.”

“You just…you never should have had to grow up so fast,” he says sadly, wishing he could have been there, would have met you sooner—he’s not even sure. He just knows he grieves for the young girl who felt like she had the world resting on her shoulders. “You’re…probably one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. But you have me now, for what it’s worth.”

“It’s worth a lot,” you tell him sincerely.

He swallows the knot forming in his throat and smiles to himself as you lift his left hand and trace your thumb over the wedding band there idly. A silence settles over the room, comfort found in roaming hands, in gentle brushes of lips, of soft sighs as either pulls away to catch a breath.

And later, as the moon rises high over an inky sky, and he’s holding you close in his arms, both of you in pajamas and ready for bed, he brushes an open kiss to your shoulder blade. Whispers, “Tell me about her, will you? She’s important to you, so she’s important to me.”

The two of you lay for hours. Talking amongst your sheets and pillows. Wound together tight. Interlocking fingers and legs. You begin to paint a picture in his mind of the woman who meant the world to you and more. A woman with joy and love in her heart, a lyrical laugh, a bright smile he can only imagine mirrors yours. Someone he knows had a part in growing you into the woman laying beside him. A person he’s proud of, is fond of, finds himself…falling for.

Love, maybe?

An abstract to him for so. A lofty ideal he thought always meant for others, never him. His own family had been lacking it, his parent’s marriage scarred and soiled by years of lies and infidelity. But he wonders if it’s there. If the capacity of love exists within him, and maybe it only has been seeking the right person.

“She would have really liked you, you know?” you tell him after some time, fingers crawling along the divots of his abdomen, his skin breaking out into gooseflesh.

He gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” you say reassuringly, peeking up through your lashes to gaze up at him. “It’s hard not to.”

Those eyes—your eyes—will never not render him a little speechless.

He’ll get lost in them over and over again and never tire. But there’s comfort in it.

Even now, as you lean over and shut the bedside lamp. As you crawl over his chest and tug his glasses free from his face and press your lips to his. As you slump down into his chest, head over his sternum, arms around his waist.

Something like love blooms behind his ribcage.

It should be scary, but as he watches your back rise and fall in your sleep, he realizes it isn’t.

——

please like/ reblog/ interact if you enjoyed! i love hearing from and talking to you all. next chapter is…one you’ve probably all been waiting for. 😏

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Songs4Caplan Challenge

Definitely supposed to be on hiatus, but I'd wanted to host another challenge. Please don't let this flop lmao

Rules:

Tag me in the authors notes & send me a message with yuor fic once it's posted! (along with the hashtag so I know which Masterlist to place the fic when I post it)

Please tag the proper warnings before the fic

Can be ANY CHARACTER YOU'D LIKE!!

More than one person can write for the same prompts

RPFs are allowed

If you’d like to write for more than one song, please make them separate fics

the songs are randomly picked from my playlist, so don't judge lol.

Can be however long you’d like the fic to be, however, please be considerate to the folks using the app and place the 'keep reading' feature on your posts!!

PLEASE tag the fic as #songs4caplan so i can easily find your fics!!!

Addicted to you simple plan

Africa Toto 

All downhill from here new found glory 

All for you sister hazel 

All summer long kid Rock 

Alone together fall out boy

Amnesia 5 seconds of summer

Animals maroon 5

As it was Harry styles 

as the world caves in Sarah cothran

Ashes of Eden breaking Benjamin 

Attention Charlie put 

Bad guy Billie eillish 

Bad things jace Everett

Beautiful mistakes maroon 5

Beautiful soul Jesse McCartney 

Before he cheats carrie underwood 

Before you go Lewis capaldi 

Beggin maneskin 

Better than me hinder

Blue ain’t your color Keith urban 

Burn usher 

Car radio twenty one pilots 

Church fall out boy

Climax usher 

Come & get it Selena Gomez 

Count on me Bruno mars 

Criminal Fiona Apple 

Deja vu Olivia rodrigo 

Delicate Taylor swift 

Diary Tino Coury 

Dirty laundry Carrie underwood 

Dirty thoughts Chloe adams 

Don’t call me up Mabel 

Downtown lady a 

Drivers license Olivia rodrigo 

Easy on Adele 

End of me a day to remember 

Every breath you take the police 

Every morning sugar ray 

Everybody hurts r.e.m. 

Fall for you secondhand serenade

Fallin Alicia keys 

Fast car Tracy Chapman 

Flowers Miley Cyrus 

For the first time the script

Forever young alphaville

Forever and ever amen randy Travis

Fuck it Eamon 

Fuck you bitch wheeler walker jr

Ghost of you Justin beiber

Glimpse of us Joji

God gave me you Blake Shelton 

Hate (I really don’t like you) plain white tees

Havana Camilla cabello 

Heart attack Demi lovato 

Heartbreak anniversary giveon 

Heaven Kane brown 

Hello darlin Conway twitty 

Hold on, we’re going on drake 

How do you sleep Jesse McCartney 

Hurt Johnny cash 

I fall apart post Malone 

I miss you blink 182

I see red everybody loves an outlaw 

I wanna be your slave maneskin 

I’m not the only one Sam smith 

I’m the only one Melissa Ethridge 

I’m yours Alessia Cara 

In my blood Shawn Mendes 

It ain’t me baby me Johnny cash 

Jealous nick Jonas 

Just one yesterday fall out boy 

Just the way you are Bruno mars 

Keep Holding On Avril Lavigne 

Killer queen Queen 

The last of the real ones 

Leave  the door open Bruno mars 

Leavin’ Jesse McCartney 

Let her go passenger

Like I can Sam smith

Lips of an angel hinder

Little do you know Alex & sierra 

Little Talks Mumfords & sons

Mama's broken heart Miranda lambert

Man down Rihanna

Misery Maroon 5

My Boo usher & Alicia keys 

Needed Me Rihanna 

Never gonna be alone Nickelback

New Rules Dua Lipa 

Not Over You Gavin DeGraw

Obsessed Mariah Carey

One Call Away Charlie Puth

One More Night Maroon 5

Our Song Taylor Swift

Picture KidRock & Sherry Crow 

PillowTalk Zayn Malik 

Please Don’t Leave Me Pink

Red Taylor Swift 

Remember the time Michael Jackson

Rolling in the deep Adele 

Say My Name Destiny’s Child

Say So Doja Cat 

She’s Got You Patsy Cline

Shower Becky G

Smokin out the Window Bruno Mars 

Someone You Loved Lewis Capaldi

Stay With Me Sam Smith

Take a Bow Rihanna

Take Me to Church Hozier

Take You Dancing Jason Derulo

There’s Nothing Holdin Me Back Shawn Mendes

Title Meghan Trainor

Too Good at Goodbyes Sam Smith

Too Little Too LAte JoJo

Trip Ella Mae

Trouble P!Nk

True Love P!NK

Unfaithful RIhanna

Unholy Sam smith

Unsteady X Ambassadors

Uptown Girl Billy Joel

Wait For You Elliot Yamin

Walk Me Home P!NK

Walkin After Midnight Patsy Cline

Want U Back Cher Lloyd

What a Man Gotta Do Jonas Brothers

What Ifs Kane Brown

Wolves Selena Gomez

Would You Go With Me? Josh Turner

You Found Me The Fray

You Had Me @ Hello A Day to Remember

You Need to Calm Down, Taylor Swift

[blainesebastian]

familiarity

words: 3,585 ship: austin butler x reader  summary: (request) readers friends are obsessed with austin and reader meets austin out and about. austin is intrigued by the reader's lack of interest and is determined to get to know you notes: first request, really excited. thank you! if you do not see your request posted, I promise it’s coming. My writing takes time and I appreciate the patience xo  warning: none  tag list: if you’d like to be added to any of my requested austin x reader fics, please let me know :) 

Tipping your head back towards the sky, you take a deep breath into your lungs as you exit the theater with your two best friends. Seeing Elvis for the third time is beginning to grate on your nerves—don’t get it wrong, the movie is incredible. The acting, the costumes, the music, all of it, ten out of ten, you just don’t need to see a film more than twice in theaters. Your friends are giggling like schoolgirls over the lead, Austin, and well—right, he’s definitely pretty but you don’t understand the hype. You don’t think you’ve really seen him in much before this.

“You two are beginning to sound borderline stalker-ish.” You tease over your shoulder, Marie reaching for your arm and forcing you to walk with them.

“I don’t want to hear it; you’ve watched tons of things over again for your favorite actor. What about Charlie Hunnam?”

You let out a soft breath that flutters your hair, “We don’t talk about Charlie.”

Paige grins, putting a hand through her strawberry-blonde strands, “Well that’s fine because we want to talk about Austin. Can you imagine the physical endurance he had to have to pull off all those movements? Performances?”

Marie grins, “Oh so we’re talking about his stamina?”

You roll your eyes even though you’re smiling as you head back to the car with them. It’s not that you don’t think Austin Butler isn’t attractive, he is, and obviously very gifted and talented. And maybe it goes beyond him being your type or not—sometimes it’s just hard to think about things other than what you’ve been going through recently. That’s what heading to the movies was supposed to be for, an escape, your best friends dragging you out of your apartment despite the fact that you’ve seen this film already.

But they know you need the extra support and you love them for that.

Your past breakup has been rough, moreso than you ever imagined it was capable of being. Just…the person you thought you’d been in love with for seven years turned out to be a completely different man. He was a cheater, a liar, and abusive—not necessarily physically, but definitely emotionally.

You’re working on building a better space for yourself, but it hasn’t been easy. You suppose anything worth it rarely is, but sometimes it’s hard to think about anything else. Shaking those thoughts loose, you get into your car as Marie and Paige continue to talk about their favorite scenes from the movie—describing them in detail as if they’re not going to visit the theater for a fourth time.

You smile a little as you start the engine, pulling out of the parking spot—you guess there’s really nothing better than an escape, especially when it involves a very handsome actor named Austin.

--

It’s a beautiful Fall day, the kind of season that feels like it might be snuggle worthy even in the sunlight. Crisp, crunching leaves, the end of summer passing along it’s final rays of heat. This is your favorite type of weather, right before it gets too cold. You can wear jeans, booties and a t-shirt with a jacket and have zero concerns. Not to mention it’s ideal to sit outside with a cup of coffee…which is your reward for getting grocery shopping done today. You push the cart around the aisles of Whole Foods, crinkling your nose at the selection they’ve got for most items because…it seems a little bare in some spots. Definitely in that time slot of restocking shelves.

No matter, you’ll make do with what you get and then come back another day this week to grab anything you might be missing. Surveying your cart, you’re pretty much done except for your favorite cereal, so you turn the cart in that direction and pause amongst the boxes.

Maple Clusters—literally one of your favorite things. Add a little extra cinnamon and honey? Ugh, with a cup of coffee it’s damn near perfect. And that’s something you never like to say often—that something is perfect, because you’ve learned the hard way that nothing ever is.

You let out a slow breath, moving down the aisle and spotting the box you need on the top shelf. Abandoning your cart, you walk to grab it, arm raised—

And someone else snatches it right before you can. You blink, looking over at the taller guy who has your Maple Clusters in his clutches. He seems to sense you standing there, because he turns slightly and blinks, looking down at the box.

“Sorry, were you goin’ for this?”

For some reason he looks wickedly familiar, like you’ve seen him in this store before or…maybe just around. New York is one of those places where you can run into the same ten people out and about over the course of a month—which sounds like it makes zero sense until you live here.

You hesitate for a moment, taking him in, tall, boyish charm with blue eyes that are only brightened by the curls of his dirty blonde hair and the jean jacket sherpa he’s wearing. Attractive? Yes. Annoying? Also yes.

“I was,” You lick your lips, “It’s the best cereal they have.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he turns to face you, still holding onto the box between his hands. “I know,” There’s a sort of drawl to his tone, a deeper octave that maybe you weren’t expecting. It almost seems like it doesn’t quite go with his face, body, something learned. “That’s why I grabbed it.”

You narrow your eyes, attempting to grab anything else that you might be able to barter with. “Okay—there are plenty of decent second options here. Strawberry Oats, got little yogurt pieces in there,” The guy’s face takes on this amused twist, watching as you try to argue which cereal he should buy instead so you can have the one in his hands.

You notice he’s wearing rings on his slender fingers too which is…definitely not a negative, but not the point, either.

“Here and this one? Chocolate.” You wave the box for emphasis, “Who doesn’t love chocolate?”

“I dunno, do you? Seems like if you’re gonna argue for these cereals, you should just go head and buy ‘em.”

Heat kisses your cheeks and splotches down your neck, “No—I’m saying you should get one of them and surrender the Maple box.”

“I was here first.”

“Your arms are longer.”

A soft laugh rumbles out of his chest, a crinkle to the corners of his eyes. Now not only is he amused but there’s something else there, lingering in the blue of his irises. One of his hands runs through his hair before slipping along his jaw, like he’s in thought over this cereal. You are almost petty enough to grab the box and run, but you’ve got a whole cart to check out with and don’t want to end up running into him again.

Part of you knows that this is not worth it, arguing about cereal with a stranger (yet an attractive one) in the middle of Whole Foods. But…the Maple Clusters are definitely just a staple to healthy routines you’re building for yourself and you don’t want to wait later in the week to see if it’s restocked.

“What about a trade?”

You blink—wasn’t that exactly what you were saying? You slowly reach out to grab the Strawberry Oats box to hand off to him and he shakes his head,

“Nah—I meant; I’ll give you the cereal if I can get your name.”

What? Your brain kinda restarts a moment and all those serial killer documentaries and podcasts begin replaying in your head. Why does this dude want to know your name? Then you take in his stature, the way he’s angling his body towards you, head tipped down just slightly as you talk, eyes warm, smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

He’s flirting with you.

“My name? My name for a box of cereal.” You state, like you don’t quite believe it.

“I mean, unless you want to take home Strawberry Oats, I dunno.”

You pause for a few moments, trying to get your bearings. You don’t usually do this, talk to random men in the middle of Whole Foods over cereal. Not to mention being with your ex for those seven years has kinda made you incredibly cautious and aware of conversations you have, always a little unsure, still working on putting yourself out there again and taking chances. Not just with guys but with anything.

But it’s just a name right? And you really want this cereal.

“Fine,” You straighten your shoulders, “It’s Y/N.”

And the transaction is simple, he passes over the cereal, “Y/N,” Definitely doesn’t sound terrible coming from his mouth…clearly this whole interaction has sent you through the ringer. “I’m Austin. Is this a usual thing for you to passionately argue for cereal in Whole Foods or am I just lucky?”

A laugh slips out of your lips and you turn to deposit the box in your cart before the name he’s said finally registers in your brain. You turn to look at him, eyes fluttering over his face and form as he examines the box of Strawberry Oats and—that’s why he looks so familiar. You have seen him before, in Elvis, you just hadn’t put the pieces together because his hair isn’t jet-black anymore. You assume this is his regular style, still coifed in soft curls, but completely different than you’ve seen. In the back of your mind there are some thoughts swirling about how he looks so much more attractive this way, his blue eyes a softer tone than how sharp they were in the film.

Your mouth sort of open and closes like a goldfish, unsure of what to say for a moment, “I just take my cereal very seriously.”

Your friends are going to lose their minds—not that they’d even believe you if you told them. Then again, maybe this is a very detailed dream and you’re gonna wake up on your couch and realize you still need to go grocery shopping.

When Austin glances at you again, there’s this look that passes over his face, an understanding between you both that gaps have been filled in, there’s no air of mystery anymore. He doesn’t look disappointed but still a bit intrigued, putting the Strawberry Oats back to pick up some sort of peanut-butter chocolate combination.

“You didn’t know who I was before.” It’s not said in a way that’s…offended or expectant, but rather there’s something there that’s a bit softer. Like he enjoyed not being recognized. Paige and Marie talk about Austin often, they’ve shared a lot of tidbits and interviews and things like that without you asking.

But it seems like Austin, while made for the spotlight, is a bit shy in it. There’s a balance to him where he’s wading through celebrity life and fits in perfectly, but also flounders sometimes because he’s humble, genuine, sweet. Least that’s what your friends tell you. Though, with this one interaction, might be on brand. With the movie doing as well as it is, it’s flinging Austin and his career more into the public eye; he might not have many interactions like this anymore. Where there’s a blanket of anonymity.

“Well,” You clear your throat, “If it makes you feel any better—I’m still referring to you as ‘guy who likes to steal the last cereal’ in my head.”

That seems to catch him off guard because he laughs, tucking the cereal box underneath his arm. “I was just thinkin’ ‘girl who argues about cereal’ was such a better identifier for you too.”

You grin, your cheeks kissing pink before you shake your head. “That’s my full name, actually.”

Austin laughs and the sound is light and attractive and you feel like your head might start spinning because…this can’t be your life right now. You lick your lips, taking a step back from him and motioning to your cart,

“I gotta get going.” And there’s definitely…some disappointment? there, or maybe it’s just a trick of the artificial lights. Either way, he hesitates, watching you walk back to your cart and begin pushing it past him, “Enjoy that cereal.”

“Can I get your number?” He asks, mostly to your back because you’re almost out of the aisle.

Your heart ricochets right up into your throat and you turn to look at him, confusion pinching between your eyebrows because seriously? This guy wants your number? It’s floundering because, well for starters, a celebrity seemingly wants to get to know you. From running into you in the middle of Whole Foods and arguing about cereal. Secondly, there’s this knee-jerk reaction placed deep inside of you from your ex to keep yourself safe. To not get hurt again or put yourself out there.

It's a simple number exchange today but it never ends up like that.

“No,” You clear your throat, “I’m sorry. But uh—New York is one of those serendipitous places, maybe I’ll run into you again.”

Austin raises his eyebrows, definitely not the reply he was expecting but he respects it, nodding as he offers a small wave before you dip around the corner to the next aisle.

--

You think that’s an interaction that’ll just pass you by, it’ll fade into some part of your consciousness that you’ll maybe remember if it’s randomly recalled to memory. Marie and Paige talk about their latest obsession a lot so, you expect it’s something that’ll pop up, you might mention it in jest to see what their reactions are, but then it’ll disappear—hidden by more important things to think about.

Except it doesn’t.

Austin is on your mind a lot ever since you met him and it’s one of those things where it feels like he’s unavoidable. Shows on Netflix that he’s been in are suddenly available and advertised, you see billboards and subway signs of him in Elvis marketing the film, his interviews are suggested watches on YouTube and your Instagram explore page has fan posts and photoshoots alike.

This whole thing isn’t going to just disappear into the background and you realize you actually want to talk about it with someone, even though the moment has passed and it doesn’t really matter anyways. There are some feelings swirling through your chest that you’re beginning to recognize as regret, even though you don’t want to call it that by name.

Would it have really hurt to give your number to him?

Regardless that it doesn’t change anything, you invite Paige over for coffee. Maybe just venting it out will help you purge it from lingering on your mind. Besides, no offense to Marie, she’s a bit more level-headed when it comes to both of your best friends.

You divulge what happened at Whole Foods and she kinda just laughs a moment before she sees your face, “Wait—are you fucking serious?” You open your mouth to say something put Paige reaches over and gently smacks your arm,

“Hey!”

“I cannot believe you kept this from us,” She laughs, “Also incredibly ironic that you get to run into him when you’re not even a fan.”

Crinkling your nose, you reply, “I didn’t say I wasn’t a fan, I just…didn’t want to see the movie for a fourth time in a row,” You roll your eyes but there’s a soft smile tugging the corners of your mouth, “Definitely didn’t say he wasn’t hot either, he is.”

Paige squeals out a series of laughs as she grabs your arm and honestly that makes you chuckle more than the situation at hand. Leaning back against your kitchen counter, you take a long sip of coffee,

“Anyways,” A soft sigh, “None of this really matters. I fucked up by not giving him my number.”

“I can’t believe he even asked,” She shakes her head, snickering at your expression. “No, I mean—you’re beautiful and clearly got great taste in cereal, I just…it’s hard to wrap my head around.”

“You’re telling me,” You reply, your lips lingering along the rim of your mug before you take another sip.

“Why didn’t you give it to him?” Paige asks, pouring more coffee for herself.

You chew on the inside of your cheek for a few moments—you figured that’d be rather obvious. Paige watches you, pushing her hair over her shoulder. She reaches out and playfully tugs on the lapel of the jean jacket you’re wearing to draw your attention back to this conversation. She knows you though, knows what you’re thinking about.

“Not every guy you meet is going to be like Jason.”

And that…it kind of makes you bristle even though you know she’s right. It’s just such a sensitive topic, an exposed nerve, hurts to think about. “I know.”

Paige hums a little, “It’s also okay if you’re not used to that concept yet, that you’re distant? Cautious?”

You swallow, appreciating someone validating your feelings even though that’s a bit of a struggle too. You don’t like feeling like you’re the center of attention, or like…there’s something wrong with you.

“But for future reference? Definitely doesn’t hurt to give a cute guy your number,” Paige throws her arm around your shoulders, making you smirk, “Especially when that cute guy turns out to be Austin Butler.”

You sigh a bit dramatically but nod—lesson learned, at least.

“Noted.” Smiling, you bump your hip into hers and pour another cup of coffee.

--

Another week passes and you’re back in Whole Foods, not a full grocery run but just grabbing some essentials. Milk, cheese, fruit…definitely some snacks that are not needed but wanted, and of course, cereal. You hold your basket along your arm, pausing at a few spots and putting stuff in before moving to the next aisle. You can already tell upon entering the cereal aisle that things are a bit bare, the shelves looking a little emptier than usual.

Maybe you need to find a new location or change the day of the week you shop, because you pause in front of where you usually find your Maple Clusters and…completely empty. Not even a box left.

Sighing, you set your basket down to begin to browse other selections.

“Don’t you hate it when that happens?” A familiar voice speaks behind you. You turn slowly, your stomach flip flopping as your eyes land on Austin who’s walking into the aisle with his own basket, “Someone grabbin’ the last box of cereal?”

You smile a little, can’t help it, gaze taking him in completely. He’s wearing black jeans today, black cowboy lookin’ ankle booties, a simple white tee and a leather jacket. It somehow makes his features stand out even more than the last time you saw him and you’re definitely taken by how easily handsome he is.

It’s annoying to say the very least.

“Might have to change the Whole Foods I shop at; this cereal outage is just unacceptable.” Smirking a bit, you curl your hair around your ear. You can’t help but feel a bit relieved that you’re seeing him, that you managed to run into him again. Almost like a do-over, in a sense, pushing your wants and desires over insecurities and worries.

It’s not going to hurt to toe the line, to dip your foot back into the pool, to put yourself out there.

He takes a step towards you, pulling the Maple Clusters in question out of his basket, “I don’t actually need this—just wasn’t sure how else to get your attention.”

Chewing on your lower lip, you smile a little, blush working along the back of your neck. “What you just…showed up every day on the off chance I might be here, harboring cereal?”

Austin laughs a little, “No, God—I was gettin’ my own stuff. I just happened to see you turn into the aisle, made a beeline for the cereal.”

And that’s…you have to admit kinda unexpectedly cute. You’re feeling slightly flustered, a fluttery sensation directly under your ribcage, but instead of running away, you lean into it.

“So let me guess—you want a fair trade for that?” You motion to the Maple Clusters.

Austin seems to hesitate just a little, maybe not wanting to walk over a boundary line that you created the last time you ran into one another. You like that about him instantly and decide to open the door a bit more for him to walk through,

“Like maybe…getting coffee?” You offer, “In exchange?”

His eyebrows lift, pleasantly surprised, “Right now?”

“Right now,” You smile, “After we check-out.”

He hands over the cereal box, your fingers brushing as you take it. There’s an electric current just from the touch alone, slipping right up your arm and coiling like a snake in your belly, heated, heartrate doubling.

“Definitely wouldn’t say no to coffee.”

Smiling, you put the cereal box in your basket before picking it up off the floor. There’s an openness to Austin as you wander around Whole Foods, filling up the rest of your lists before making your way out to find a coffee shop. He looks at you with the intention to listen and admittedly you forgot what that feels like. To be heard, to be comfortable in sharing.

And you realize how good it feels to be willing to take chances.

--

thank you for reading! :) 

[sardonic-the-writer]

Hey Sard! I just had an oral surgery and was hoping to get an imagine/headcannon to help me cope! I was thinking a Charlie and Ted poly (or just one of them will work haha!) Where the reader (preferably he/They or amab they/them) just had their wisdom teeth removed and are saying the most random and silly shit ever (example- I was convinced I was d_@d in the car home). And Charlie is trying to calm them down, while Ted is just provoking the Reader's drugged state 😂 Anyway, thanks! Love ya :D

this is such a fucking hilarious idea. one problem. im not taking requests so stop sending them please unless you're mutuals. im only doing this for comfort right now since my nights not doing so well

"Okay, say that one more time again for me (Y/n)."

Ted's grin was poorly contained, eyes filled with amusement as he leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Th' fffucken seagulls. Coming to kill us all with their baby carrying beaks!"

"Storks carry the babies. Not seagulls."

"What!? Noooooooo."

You were currently laying on your back on Ted's couch, mouth swollen and brain essentially mush.

It was expected of course. You had just gotten done with getting your wisdom teeth removed after a few months of pain, something that was long overdue.

You had known you would be coming out of the dentist's office drugged and high as a kite, so you'd asked—read: forced—your friends Ted and Charlie to take you home afterwards, making sure that you didn't talk too much so you could heal.

Yeah. Only one of those things happened.

"Leave them alone, Ted." Charlie's words were serious as he awkwardly maneuvered his limbs to keep the ice pack in his hands on your face, but Ted knew he was just as entertained by your lunatic ramblings as he was. "They trusted us to make sure they would heal afterward. And I personally don't want to explain that the reason their mouth is bleeding again was because you wanted to hear about how seagulls are coming to kill us."

"Come on, you know they'd do the same to us if we were the delusional ones." He responded with a chuckle. Charlie rolled his eyes but silently laughed all the same, knowing he was right.

"Charles." You suddenly gasped, knocking the mans hand away feom your jaw and scrambling up to grab his arm woozily. "We're in grave danger. You must hide."

"..what?" He sputtered, halfway between laughing and scolding you for rushing up so quickly.

"Seaaagullsssss."

"Sit down (Y/n)."

"But the sky demons!" You cried, dramatically throwing yourself into him. He just caught you before pushing you back and looking at Ted, as if to signal for help.

The other man sighed, realizing that Charlie was right, and you probably did need to rest. And as much as he wanted to keep picking apart your brain in this state; he opted for getting up to walk over to the couch you were still on.

"Listen. If the seagulls come, I'll—" Ted paused a moment before continuing, remembering something he would say to Schlatt as a joke sometimes. "—I'll get the big fist to shoot them out of the sky."

You stopped mindlessly rambling at that, peaking open one eye to look at him skeptically. He nearly cracked a smile at your silly expression, knowing full well he would never let you live this down.

"Are you sure that will work" You slightly glared at him, dragging out the sure in suspicion.

"Very sure."

You didn't say anything for a moment. Ted's brows furrowed together as he waited for you to respond to him. It took the soft snores drifting out of your mouth for either of the boys hovering over you to realize that you had fallen dead asleep right in front of them.

"Oh thank god." Charlie sighed deeply before falling backward onto the floor with his arms and legs out. Clearly very happy that you had gone to sleep. "I thought I would have had to tie them down and force them to stop talking."

"Now that would've been funny."

"Shut the fuck up Ted and let me have this moment."

He just laughed.

[ninchen1909]

A drunken rage and a sober confession III

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1750

Warnings: short talk about insomnia, mention of an unplanned pregnancy, mother leaves child

Summary: Bucky and you finally talking about your feelings for each other

 Much to your surprise, you managed to fall into a kind of half-sleep, it is restless and the dreams in it are confusing, but it is better than not being able to sleep at all.

You hear a loud, shrill noise, followed by a knock that gets louder and louder. At first you think it's a background noise of your dream, until you realize that someone is at your door and wants to be let in. You're still completely lost and toy with the idea of pulling the pillow over your head and ignoring the unwanted guest on your doorstep. Who wants anything from you so early anyway? Especially on a Saturday.

Then it occurs to you: "Bucky!"

You run to the door as fast as you can, on your way there you stumble over your clothes from yesterday, but you can just catch yourself and a little later you are in front of the door.

You open it with a jerk and there he is, the reason for your nocturnal phone calls and your insomnia.

There stands the man you've loved for years, who seems to return those feelings. His eyes sparkle lovingly at you, a smile caresses his lips. In one hand he holds a cardboard holder with two coffee to go paper cups, while in the other hand he holds a bakery bag.

"Good morning angel, I brought breakfast." He holds the bag and the coffe holder up before he walks past you into the apartment, where he puts everything on your living room table "I didn't know if you wanted to eat something, but I brought you your favorite rolls anyway, and you always have coffee , so I brought you one too." Also this time you don't answer and just stare at him, you notice that he is getting nervous, you would like to take this tension away from him, but your mouth refuses to speak.

"If you're not comfortable and you'd rather go back to sleep, I can leave and come back later, your message only sounded very serious and I've spent the last two hours just wondering what's going on, and..."

"I heard you yesterday." You can’t hold back any longer, all your resolutions to keep the conversation calm and comfortable are forgotten from the moment he walked in the door. His words from yesterday echo through your head. Your heart is begging for confirmation of those words, but your brain is telling you to take it easy and get rid of any doubts first. But when have you had any doubts about Bucky?

Bucky's mouth opens and then closes again, it looks like a fish is gasping for water. You can see panic and also a slight desperation in his eyes.

All your resolutions to keep the conversation calm and comfortable are forgotten from the moment he walked in the door. His words from yesterday echo through your head. Your heart is begging for confirmation of those words, but your brain is telling you to take it easy and get rid of any doubts first. But when have you had any doubts about Bucky?

You wonder what his next move will be "W...what exactly do you mean?" ah, so his new move is to play dumb.

"I heard what you said to me yesterday after you put me to bed, I heard everything Jamie, every single word.” You took a step towards him.

"But you were asleep, please angel tell me you were asleep." He looks at you pleadingly, but you just shake your head.

"No James, I wasn't asleep." When he sees that you mean it, he starts to pull at his hair and paces nervously in front of you before stopping abruptly and turning back to you, looking at you with pleading eyes, briefly you think you do too to see tears in his eyes,

"Please angel just forget it, please let's just forget about this and just move on as to how we have been. I can't lose you please, I just can't. You and Charlie are the most important people to me please don't leave me."

You just shake your head and Bucky lets his head fall so his eyes are facing the floor.

"I can't forget it James, and honestly I don't want to forget it either." You approach him and take his large, rough hands in your much smaller one, your thumbs lightly brushing the backs of his hands.

"Please look at me Jamie" you wait until he lifts his head and looks into your eyes then you whisper "I love you too." It takes Bucky a little while to process your words, but as soon as he understands, his whole face lights up, he puts his hands on your cheeks and gently lowers his forehead against yours "Say it again, please, I have to hear it again" you smile "I love you James Buchanan Barnes" no sooner have you said those words than he joins your lips in your first, but certainly not your last, kiss. The kiss is full of tenderness and love, and there is also a silent promise of "I'll never let you go again" in it.

Out of breath you break apart "I love you too angel, more than you'll ever know." He kisses the tip of your nose.

A little later you're sitting together on the sofa, Bucky's arms hug you tenderly, your head rests on his strong chest, and the smell of his after-shave fills your nostrils when you suddenly remember what you wanted to ask Bucky the whole time "Jamie?" you look up at him slightly "Yes, angel?" “When you thought I was asleep you also said that Steve said to tell me about Lisa." Bucky closes his eyes briefly and lets out a deep sigh. "So you really do remember everything. I'll tell you if you really want to know. But please let me speak. So should I tell you?" You just nod in response before he starts to speak: "You know I haven't fallen in love with you just recently, my love for you goes back much further, in any case I was in love with you even before my relationship with Lisa, and every time we saw each other I said to myself: Today is the day I will tell my angel that I love her. But as you know, I never did. And then one day, we arranged to meet at our local bar, you brought this guy over  I think his name was Thomas, and you introduced him to me as your boyfriend. That night I cried over a woman for the first time in my life, I cried for our love and mourned a future we will never have, at least that's what I thought at that moment.

But my sadness quickly turned into anger. I was mad at you and Thomas because he had what I wanted to have with you, but I was most mad at myself, I had so many chances to confess my love to you but I never did. And I was like, "Hey, if it hurts me so much to see you with someone else, maybe it hurts you too to see me with someone else too" and that's when I remembered Lisa, she worked in the office across from the fire station, we had often met by chance and she always flirted with me or wanted to go out with me, I always refused. Except for the day after I first saw you with him, when she asked me again, I said yes. And before I knew it we started dating regularly and she was telling everyone we were a couple, I was playing along. But before long she started complaining that I was spending too much time with you and that she should be the top priority in my life and not you. I guess she acted out of necessity then when she went off the pill without telling me, and the next thing I consciously remember are the five positive pregnancy tests on my bathroom sink. I was happy, really, I always wanted to be a father, but I always imagined it differently. I always imagined that we would become a couple and then say yes in a small, intimate ceremony and then build a family together. I really tried to be a good boyfriend, I also really tried to love her. But I never loved her, I only ever loved you. And when Charlie was born and she realized that my feelings for her hadn't changed, she explained to me that she wanted to break up, and that she didn't want anything to do with Charlie. Charlotte was just her try to bind me to her, since she knew that I always wanted a family. Then she packed her things and left. I didn't even try to stop her. It was only important to me that Charlie is doing well and that he is not missing anything. And every time I see you with Charlie, I wish you were her mum. . I know this is a lot to digest and I was a total ass about it too, but believe me I never had any intention of really hurting anyone."

You lift your head from his chest to look at him, you can see genuine regret in his eyes and his face is also twisted into a grimace as if the thought of actually hurting someone hurts him physically.

"You're right Jamie you were a total jerk but it also wasn't right for her to just go off the pill and then just leave her kid behind. I think you both made mistakes in that situation."

James looks surprised "so you're not disgusted with me?" you shake your head "No I'm not, everyone has done something they're not proud of, the most important thing is that we make up for our mistakes and don't repeat them." He kisses your forehead and whispers "I love you so damn much" And I love you" he looks down at his watch "I've got about an hour left before I have to pick Charlie up from Steve, what do you want "Cuddle?" you look at him questioningly, "Cuddle!" replies Bucky, grinning at you as he opens his arms and you snuggle back into his chest, the chest you'll be snuggling into for many years to come.

[blackacre13]

I hope you like this: Lou adopts Danny's or one of her workers' baby and she shows up with him to visit Debbie in prison. Debbie is shocked and has all her walls up but over the years the 3 bond during the visits. When she's out, the fight over Claude is a bit more tense. Lou's afraid Debbie will get bored and go away while Debbie thinks she's not good enough for them. Until one day Deb and the boy surprise Lou with a proposal and then they surprise Debbie with him agreeing to be adopted by Deb

(Slight variation of this that I hope you still enjoy🙈 needed to take some artistic license)

“Lou,” Tammy breathed, bursting through the door of the loft. “I came as soon as I saw your text. Are you okay? Please tell me you didn’t do anything crazy. I haven’t heard from you since the news about Danny and well—“

“Well, I can’t say it’s not crazy,” Lou grinned, looking somewhat nervous but excited. “But it’s not scotch related. Well, he was the result of a night of booze,” the blonde snorted.

“You didn’t,” Tammy whisper-hissed, closing the door behind her. “You slept with someone? Drunk? You just said—“

“I did not sleep with someone,” Lou rolled her eyes. “And I didn’t lie. I wasn’t drinking. And please. Like I’d ever stoop as low as to sleep with a man. I thought you knew me. No, I—I picked someone up today,” she smiled, walking towards the living room where a crib came into view.

“Lou…” Tammy spoke slowly. “Is that…”

“This is Charlie,” Lou smiled, waving the little boy’s tiny hand at Tammy. “Danny’s son. Well, I guess he’s my son now.”

“I think I need to sit down.”

“It’s a lot, I know,” Lou nodded, cradling the boy against her chest as he coped, a finger tugging at her fringe. “But it’s kind of perfect, Tam. I mean, not perfect. Losing Danny was…I don’t have the words for it. I don’t think any of us ever will. But well, I saw Tess last week. And she’s been in a lot of pain. And she knows I’ve been in a lot of pain. I guess I’m the only other person she knows who’s sort of also lost an Ocean.”

“Your Ocean is coming back,” Tammy reminded her, still not able to look away from the baby, or how natural Charlie looked in Lou’s arms as she rocked him side to side.

“From jail, yeah,” Lou agreed. “But we don’t know she’s coming back to me. As much as I want that and crave that, and still love her as much as I did I—“

“I won’t push,” Tammy whispered, smiling sadly. “I know. It’s not a decision that falls solely on you. And I know there’s a lot left unsaid. And some unfinished—“

“Skulls to crush?” Lou provided, still bouncing Charlie. “Actually, just the one will do. I can’t wait to get ahold of Becker and just—“

“Maybe not so much with the violence while you’re holding a baby, right?” Tammy winced. “I mean now that you’re a—wait. What are you? Are you babysitting? Are you taking on Deb’s responsibilities as aunt? Shit. You said you did something crazy. Fuck. Lou. You said he’s your son? Oh my god. When the hell did you and Danny—”

Lou shot a death glare at the other woman above the boys head before she physically shuddered, closing her eyes as she tried to shake the unasked question away from existence.

“Absolutely not. God, Tam. That’s like incest or something. How could you even—just, no. Let me finish. Like I was saying, I saw Tess. And she’s been falling apart since we lost Danny. And raising Charlie, it was just too hard. Too much like seeing a little Danny look back at her. And a whole lot of hurt and angst I won’t get into. But I’m sure you know as best as we can. And well, for the reasons raising Charlie was making her ache, she thought that maybe it would do the opposite for me. Bring me out of a slump. Give me someone to take care of now that I’m taking care of myself again. So I can be a better person for myself, you know. And you. And—and Deb. And I think she felt terrible for even suggesting this and please, Tam, don’t judge Tess. She just wants what’s best for him and—“

“God,” Tammy breathed. “No, I could never. I can’t imagine what she’s gone through and of course. Of course we all just want what’s best for our kids.”

“She still wants to be in his life, but she just doesn’t feel like she can be the parent he needs. So, Tess sort of, made me Charlie’s legal guardian and if things go well? I want to adopt him. And Deb to one day. You know. If she wants.”

“Fuck. How is Debbie going to take all this?”

“I don’t know,” Lou sighed. “But we just got cleared.”

“Cleared?”

“Charlie,” Lou smiled softly, brushing a curl away from his face. “We’re clear to visit Deb. After all, she hasn’t ever had the chance to meet her nephew. I think it could help her with Danny. It could maybe—“

“How do you know she’ll want to see you this time?” Tammy asked quietly. “I know how many times you’ve tried and she’s—“

“She’s ashamed,” Lou shrugged. “And stubborn. And I know she blames herself for all of it. Claude. And prison. And Danny. And us. But I just—Fuck, I’d give anything to see her. And I want her to meet Charlie. And I just—I just want to see her face. Show her there’s hope. There’s something waiting for her on the outside when she gets through all this. There’s—there’s us. And we know her already. Love her already.” Lou smiled, turning Charlie around in her arms as he gurgled up at Tammy. “We’re just waiting for her to come home.”

[apocalypseornaw]

Worth It

For @make-me-imagine 5th blog anniversary event. The prompt I picked was "“Wake up. You have to wake up. Please. For me.”

Word count: 3442

Warnings: innuendo to sexual themes, some cursing

Firefighter/Paramedic AU

"How long are we going to continue to do this?" Gadreel's voice was so low you barely heard him. You stopped mid zipping your jeans "What do you mean?"

He motioned to your state of undress then his own "This. You come here when you need comfort and I am simply not strong enough to turn you away. There is no feeling that can compare with having you in my arms but I don't know how many more times I can watch you walk out of my door then see you at work and act as if we aren't anything more than friends" "What are you saying Gadreel?" You asked leaning down to pick up your shirt from the floor before slipping it over your head "I'm saying I love you and I want more for us than sex"

You froze where you were standing with your boots in hand “You said you wouldn’t fall in love with me. As a matter of fact you promised me the first time this happened. You said our friendship wouldn't change” you didn't mean to have such an accusatory tone but the panic gripping your chest was making it hard to breathe. Gadreel was one of your best friends, he meant the world to you and no matter if the truth was you felt the same about him you could never admit it because then he'd decide he wanted something different and you'd be out of a friend and heartbroken.

He knew you well enough to know when your anxiety spiked so he was out of the bed standing in front of you before you could blink.

Luckily he'd already slipped his boxers on. He gently touched your arms "Copy my breathing baby. C'mon" you did as he said focusing on his breathing to calm yourself down. You shouldn't have come here. You should've taken Dean and Lisa up on the offer to go out for beers or you should've gone to Sam and Eileen's to watch a movie. The call was too rough, you'd lost a kid and needed Gadreel. You needed to get lost in him for a while and forget the outside world. How could you be so selfish?

"I gotta go" you muttered once your breathing was back to normal and saw the way his face fell "I'm sorry I didn't mean..." You cut him off "No worries. Your message was loud and clear. I won't be back like this, I promise" he let you pull your arms out of his grasp then stood there watching as you walked out of his bedroom then across the apartment to the door.

You sat between Sam and Donna trying to listen to Chief Singer give a run down. Your mind and attention kept drifting over to where Gadreel stood in the corner talking to Charlie and Dean. Rescue squad always hung tight.

Donna bumped your side when all of you were dismissed "Where's ya head at babe? Cause it weren't in this meeting" you shook your head trying to think of an excuse when a call rang out for an ambulance to respond to a fifty three year old woman having chest pains "Duty calls" you smiled at her as the two of you bid Sam a goodbye and headed out to the ambulance waiting in the bays.

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

Three calls later you were cursing the fact that the bunk house was only so big. You were hiding on your cot trying to read a book and failing.

You loved Gadreel. You'd know that for a while probably even before the first time the two of you fell into bed. He was a wonderful man. He was kind, brave and strong. He had a beautiful heart and was always willing to help who he could. Him being six foot two and gorgeous didn't hurt matters either.

The first time the two of you had crossed a line you were at his place watching a movie with him. You couldn't remember which movie it was but it had actually scared you, some Austrian film he'd heard of.

One of the times you jumped popcorn went everywhere which made you go from being afraid to shaking with laughter. Gadreel had set stone faced until you plucked a piece of popcorn off his head and offered it to him. A grin split across his face and he shook his head pulling you into his arms. Familiar touch was something the two of you were used to. That wasn't out of the ordinary but for some reason you'd ended up pressing a quick kiss to his lips shocking the both of you.

You'd apologized quickly embarrassment taking over until he'd asked if he could kiss you back. A quick discussion of boundaries ended with you waking up the next morning wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

How had you let it go this far? God you were gonna lose him and had no clue how to backpedal at this point.

"Interesting book?" Sam's question drew you of your thoughts. You glanced up with a smile "Extremely" he nodded slowly "You're coming this weekend aren't you?" "I wouldn't miss Eileen's birthday for anything" he nodded with a grin "Good. I know she'll love having you there" the two of talked for a while before he headed towards the common room where most people on shift were. You watched him walk out, catching a glimpse of Gadreel before turning back to your book.

"I can do this...I can do this" you weren't sure how long you'd been standing outside of the Roadhouse. Chief Singer and his wife Ellen owned it so of course most parties ended up here.

You heard someone call your name and looked up to see Lisa standing not far from you with a worried expression on her face "Sweetie are you ok?" You looked at the bar then back at her "Dean's already inside, why aren't you?" "Emergency at the hospital now same question. Why are you out here instead of inside?"

You shrugged "Honestly? Just catching my breath before diving in" She didn't look like she quite believed you but nonetheless she hooked her arm through yours "Well come be my date. I'll ditch Dean for you. He'll understand" you laughed as she opened the door "Always told him you had a thing for me"

--------

You knew every face within the Roadhouse. From Ash and Jo working the bar on down. This was your family, had been for years.

You heard a sharp whistle and turned letting a smirk slip onto your face as you slid your arm around Lisa's waist "Hey Dean" he raised an eyebrow playfully "Am I sleeping on the couch tonight?" Lisa cut her eyes at you then shrugged "Night's still young Winchester"

Out the corner of your eye you clocked Sam laughing at yours and Dean's bickering and noticed Gadreel standing next to him. God did he pick the clothes you loved the most on him? That damn hooded leather jacket along with a dark grey henley.

You realized your attention had been on him longer than you meant for it to be so you turned back to Dean "Now I know Chief has taught you better manners, buy us ladies some drinks!"

------

You were playing a game of pool with Benny and Donna when you spotted a nurse that worked with Lisa sliding onto the barstool next to Gadreel. You felt a flicker of jealousy but pushed it down telling yourself he didn't owe you loyalty no matter what he'd said.

When her hand slid up his arm, a laugh falling from her lips and a smile working its way onto his face you felt like breaking the damn pool cue.

He glanced around while he talked to his and when his eyes landed on you he held your gaze until you turned away from him. Damn him you should've never let your feelings go this far.

Try as you might to concentrate on the game at hand you could feel him watching you and when you bent to line up a shot you heard Benny say "Gadreel, how's it going brother?" You took your shot then straightened up eyeing him as you did so "Where's the nurse you were chatting up? She was a looker"

"Told her i wasn't interested" he replied before Benny nodded "Wanna jump in on the next round. The medics are kicking my ass" you laughed when Donna said "Ohh is the big bad fireman needing the rescue squad to save him?"

You glanced down at your watch before saying "Actually I think I'm gonna call it a night. I've given Eileen my gift and had some fun but I didn't sleep too well last night and my bed is calling my name"

You hugged Benny then Donna telling them both goodbye and nodded to Gadreel before working your way through the crowd "CALLING IT ALREADY?" Ash hollered and you nodded "Promise to close her down next weekend" he saluted you "Attagirl"

------

You made it out into the cool night air right before you heard Gadreel behind you "Can we talk?" You spun around to face him "About what?" He let out a weary sigh "You were jealous over Kayla" you shrugged one shoulder "Never said that"

He took a step closer to you gently grabbing your hands "You didn't have to or are you forgetting just how well I know you?" You stubbornly refused to meet his eyes "Your point?" "Why did it freak you out so much because I said I love you?" "Can we drop it please?" You asked and he shook his head "Not until you look me in the eye and tell me why for months I've been allowed to have you in my bed, to make love to you and wake up next to you but when I actually say that I love you I get treated like public enemy number one"

You knew you had to do what came next, there was no other way but it took everything you had to muster the energy to lie to Gadreel's face "Because I don't love you" the way his face fell, the pain clear in his eyes shattered your heart. You pulled away from him muttering "I'm sorry" before nearly running to your car.

Days had passed since Eileen's birthday party. You avoided Gadreel at all costs which was putting in a good amount of effort considering the two of you worked the same shift.

You had never meant to hurt him but you knew he'd end up regretting picking you. It may be months or years down the line but he would. He'd realize he wanted something else. When it was just physical between the two of you it was easier to lie to yourself and say he didn't have to power to crush you but if you ever admitted to him how you felt he would and you couldn't risk it.

When the call came out for a warehouse fire you didn't really think anything of it all of you had responded to them before.

You slid into the ambulance watching the trucks in front of you and Donna clear the path. You jumped out as soon as she parked grabbing your bag and heading to start a triage station so as soon as vics were pulled out they could start being treated.

When Chief saw how bad it was he called in another house but you and Donna were first on scene so it was your show.

You watched rescue squad suit up and held Gadreel's gaze for a second before Donna calling your name made you snap back into the mindset you needed to be in while working a scene. You had to ignore the man you loved going into a rolling fire thinking you didn't love him. Guilt would throw you off and you couldn't afford it.

------

So far a total of sixteen workers had been pulled out with seven still unaccounted for.

You and Donna were triaging as fast as they could pull out and going from simply giving oxygen to getting them on ambulances to head to the hospital. You knew the longer the fire lasted, the more dangerous it was for those workers and your crew.

You watched as five more workers were pulled out. Two were intubated, one had a piece of rebar through her leg and the other a severe concussion. They were quickly divided into ambulances and sent on their way. Your eyes kept drifting back to the structure. Rescue squad hadn't come out yet which meant Dean, Benny, Charlie and Gadreel were still inside.

You wondered over to where Chief stood so you could hear his commands being given as some sort of idea as to what was going on inside. "I'm calling it. Five minutes to evac" "We found the last two chief. Benny and Charlie is headed out now. Me and Gadreel are doing one final sweep then we'll be out"

You went to Donna's side to meet Charlie and Benny. You'd just gotten their vics loaded when you heard a creaking. You knew that sound too well. The building was shifting. The foundation weakened by the flames. "EVERYONE OUT. NOW!" Chief ordered.

You stood glued to your spot watching and praying to see Dean and Gadreel. You finally spotted Dean's form and breathed a sigh of relief. Gadreel was right behind him, a breath away from being clear.

You felt your body begin to relax right before a sound that sounded like an explosion rang out and the building collapsed. Dean had barely made it out but Gadreel was trapped under the rubble.

------

One minute you were standing there the next you were struggling against Sam and Benny. Both of them knowing you would run inside if given a chance "GADREEL!" your voice sounded broken even to your own ears.

"Darling let us get him out" Benny spoke into your ear and you nodded feeling tears streaking your cheeks "Please get him out Benny" he passed you into Donna's care before joining the effort to dig Gadreel out.

------

It felt like hours passed before you heard Dean's voice over the mayhem "Gadreel!" You felt your breath catch when his still form was pulled free.

The moment he was laid down free of the building you were running to his side, your training pushing your emotions out of the way. Your hands moved of their own accord removing his helmet and ripping his jacket open as you accessed his injuries Donna working at your side.

He had a head laceration and a dislocated shoulder. "I've lost his pulse" Donna announced and you felt like your heart would stop too. You started cpr without hesitation. When you were rewarded with his steady heartbeat returning you were thankful for Dean and Benny helping to load him into the rig then riding along with you and Donna.

At the hospital you were pacing the waiting room. You hadn't been allowed to see him. No one had. Finally a nurse came out and spoke to Chief who waved you over.

She explained it was a touch and go situation and truly up to Gadreel's own body when and if he woke up but since Lisa knew all of you she would allow some of you in without officially being family. "Why me Chief?" You asked and he smiled "Honey I'm old not stupid. You're in love with him and from the way he's been acting like a whipped pup since I saw you two argue at Eileen's party he's in love with you. You're also his best friend. If anyone can cut through the fog it's you" You hugged him then followed the nurse through the winding halls.

------

When she led you into his room it felt like a punch to the gut. He was bruised and bandaged. Christ why hadn't you told him before now? The image of that warehouse collapsing with him inside continued to play through your mind.

"Just page if you need anything" She said before leaving you alone. You sat in the chair next to his bed staring at his still form. “Please wake up. You have to wake up. Please. For me.” you didn't know what else to say. You needed him to be ok. You needed to tell him how you felt.

"I love you, you stubborn ass ok? There I admitted it. I don't care what happens next. I thought by not saying those words inevitably losing you in some way or another would hurt less but god was I wrong. Please don't leave me, not like this" you whispered the last words laying your forehead over on his arm tears dropping from your eyes onto his skin.

You thought your brain was playing tricks when you felt a slight movement to his arm but your eyes flew up to his face in enough time to see his eyes slowly open, a pained groan leaving him right before he realized who was at his bedside. He spoke your name like a question as if he couldn't believe it was really you. You swallowed hard to fight back tears before saying "It's me Gadreel. Its me"

------

You stood up hitting the call button before coming back to his side "I thought you didn't love me" he said weakly as the nurse came in delighted to see he was awake and quickly checked his vitals before going in search of his doctor. You watched her go before turning back to his intense gaze "I lied. I have been in love with you for so long. I was afraid but that fear isn't nothing compared to thinking I'd lost you. I don't know if you still want us but I do love you with all my heart"

He was quiet for a moment long enough to make your heart ache "I understand if you don't want me anymore. I hurt you" "Nothing a kiss wouldn't fix" you saw a smile pulling at his lips and felt your heart give a flip "I can manage that"

You leaned down gently brushing your lips against his and despite his injuries he used his good arm to pull you closer deepening the kiss until you heard a throat clear. You looked up to see Dean and Sam standing there. Dean bumped his brother's arm "You owe me twenty"

"You bet on us?" Gadreel asked and you couldn't help but laugh when Dean shrugged "I didn't know exactly what but I knew something more was going on between you two for months. Now if you'll excuse us I'm gonna let everyone know you're ok and that you two were making out"

You watched him walk off quickly followed by Sam warning him to not invade your privacy "Our friends are insane" Gadreel laughed and you nodded "That they are" he raised his good arm to turn your face back to him "Can I hear you say it again" you leaned into his touch before saying "I love you Gadreel" he smiled before saying "I love you too even if it took a literal building falling on me to get you to admit how you feel"

You felt your cheeks warm at his words "Do you forgive me?" "Of course baby"

@make-me-imagine

[adamwatchesmovies]

Monster-in-Law (2005)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Monster-in-Law began with a thin concept and has nothing else. The characters are so flat they could be folded in half and slipped under your door. The romance is non-existent. The jokes are painfully unfunny. The complete lack of substance means you can predict entire scenes moments after they begin. This romantic comedy has no imagination whatsoever.

After a series of random encounters, Charlie (Jennifer Lopez) and Kevin (Michael Vartan) begin dating, fall in love and move in together. When he brings her to meet his mother, Viola (Jane Fonda), he decides to take the relationship to the next level and proposes. Mortified, Viola decides to do everything she can to break the couple apart. Feigning a medical condition, she agrees to let her "future daughter-in-law" take care of her while her son is away at a conference.

It’s a romantic comedy - at least in theory - so it’s no surprise we eventually get a happy ending. More than a given, it’s what the audience wants to see. Sure, it’d be unexpected to have Charlie murder Viola and run away into the sunset while the police are after her but no one who gets excited by the poster would leave pleased. As stated earlier, the problem isn't that we know how the movie will end, it's that writer Anya Kochoff has put no effort into their script. Charlie and Kevin have nothing in common. The film knows this and does everything it can to separate them asap. Kevin's extended work trip leaves the two female leads to battle it out and that's all Monster-in-Law cares about. If Kevin were present, there would be no movie. Not if he had a brain. It’s obvious to everyone watching that Viola is playing up her condition to make life hell for Charlie but everyone plays along because if they didn’t, the movie would be over and that can't until a sufficient amount of our time has been wasted.

The only way this premise could've worked is if it was commenting on racism, classism or homophobia. It doesn't, meaning there are all sorts of creepy connotations. As  human beings with the ability to think, we recognize that Charlie and her future husband can barely hold a conversation about what their day was like but the movie never acknowledges this. We're supposed to see them as a loving couple. Viola is just cooky and mean, except any sort of critical thinking reveals her as someone who's got some serious malfunctions in the head. What kind of person hires actors to play parts, pretends to take medicine and moves out of her house when a conversation would solve the issue? The film is never self-aware enough to realize what it’s trying to get us to swallow.

Director Robert Luketic (whose best movie, Legally Blonde must’ve been a fluke considering he directed this and The Ugly Truth) should be ashamed. It’s like he was making the movie up on the fly so many plot points or actions go unaddressed. Early in the movie, Charlie meets Fiona (Monet Mazue), Kevin's ex-fiancée. She lies to her and says that Kevin is gay to prevent them from getting together. After the truth is revealed and Charlie begins dating Kevin, she catches him kissing Fiona. He explains that it wasn't what it looked like. Fiona says otherwise. Why would Charlie believe the woman who lied to her earlier instead of the man she loves? There are so many points like this one that you can only come to the most lofical conclusion that no one cared.

Monster-in-Law is best compared to Ruby, Viola's loyal assistant, played by Wanda Sykes. She serves no purpose in the film except to provide snide remarks that fall flat and give “outrageous” reaction shots. So basically, she’s useless. So is Monster-in-Law. (August 7, 2020)

[nburkhardt]

It’s been a while since I wrote anything I liked enough to post anywhere. But I really liked how this part of something came out and thought I could share it since I haven’t seen much of a certain line in it. Since I kept thinking of Steve holding back from admitting his feelings because of everyone he loved leaving him. Don’t ask me about the timeline, it’s sometime after season 4, obviously Eddie survives and grew closer to Steve. (Based around the lyrics of Charlie Be Quiet! By Charlie Puth)

~~~~

Jolting awake, Steve looks around and finds himself still in the back room of Family Video.

His head is pounding and he falls back on the chair, glancing at the clock, it glaring at him saying it’s well past closing.

“Well, good morning”

Eyes nearly popping out of his head, he jolts upright and finds Eddie sitting across from him.

“What-what are you doing here?”

Eddie shakes his head and tilts his head to the side, “do you want me to lie or to tell you the truth?”

Confused, he opens his mouth and closes it before just nodding.

Eddie drops his legs onto the floor and looks at him with a smile, “well, the lie would be that my van got stolen and you’re my ride now. The truth? I’m concerned and forced my way in here, locking the kids out and bribed Robin into getting them out of the store. That was” he looked down at his watch, “three hours ago, gotta say, Steve. Having two breakdowns in thirty minutes is a lot, I’m surprised”

He snorts, without thinking. His brain slow from the headache. His heart, though, is beating like crazy.

“Yeah, well, I just ruined the only good things in my life. So,” he shrugged before looking at the ground, “but I’ll be fine. You can go-“

Eddie let’s out a ‘tsk tsk’ while shaking his head and stands up, just to sit next to him, a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place.

“Now, Stevie. You don’t get it, clearly.” Eddie starts, “Dustin filled me in on what you said, and he’s right, it’s very concerning. Clearly your parents fucked your head up and Nancy really did tear your heart apart for you to believe you’re unloveable and not wanted”

Shaking his head, he looks away from Eddie. Hoping his heart is only loud to himself, “Eddie, I- I don’t need-“

“Don’t need what? Someone to help you realize your brain is fucking stupid? Don’t need me here to listen to you?” Eddie takes his hand off his shoulder, “come on Steve, let me help”

Steve doesn’t know what to say, his heart is beating at an alarming rate and his head is screaming at him to stay quiet. The nasty voice in the back of his head whispering that it’s all a trick, that Eddie will leave him immediately.

But, maybe?

Maybe he can be like Eddie, brave and unapologetically himself. Not afraid to show his feelings.

Though, he doesn’t think he can handle being told again that the person he’s in love with isn’t and can’t be in love with him. This, this could and will break him. He can’t be around all this rejection anymore, his heart can’t handle it.

“Hey, Stevie, come back to me. Get out of your head.” Eddie whispers to him and oh so gently places his hand on his face and forces eye contact, “there you are”

He chokes on a sob and his eyes well back up, “I love you” he whispers it, hoping and praying that maybe this is a fucked up dream. Closing his eyes, “I’m in love with you and, and I can’t help it, I’m sorry”

There, it’s been a month and he said the words not only out loud but in front of Eddie.

Eddie who’s silent and hand hasn’t left his face. Steve doesn’t know what it means, his tears falling down his face and his heart is impossibly fast and the nasty voice in his head is laughing a bitter sound.

This is why he needed to be quiet, he needs to leave, needs to get away from-

“Steve, look at me” Eddie’s voice doesn’t sound angry, the hand pushing his face back towards him but he has his eyes shut tight, “Steve, please”

He’s a weak, weak man.

Opening his eyes, he finds Eddie’s face is red and tears in his eyes but there’s a smile on his face. “Why are you sorry?” He whispers it, and Steve doesn’t know what it means.

“I-“ he starts and he shuts his mouth, trying to find the words. “Didn’t mean to?”

That startles a laugh out of Eddie, he shakes his head and moves his other hand to Steve’s face, nearly squashing his face. And, well, Eddie’s laugh is something that always makes him smile.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie starts and loosens the grip on his face, “I’m not at all sorry to say, I’m in love with you.”

~~~~

What do we think? 😅 I left things out because it didn’t seem worth posting and a lot of it has been around fics already. Insecure Steve is very popular, let’s be real here lol. Again, I really haven’t shared any fics I’ve written in years, the last time I posted anywhere was I think back in 2012? Not that I stopped completely, i write for myself all the time and steddie is my favorite right now. All mistakes are my own because I suck at spelling and sometimes too dumb to come up with clever wording.

The last part is seriously my favorite part of this.

[cxncrie]

   More often than not, Damien would simply watch as Nimue broke rules here and there for the past six months. He had told her not to go near the hotel, but she did anyway. The only reason he hadn't gotten on her about it was for the simple fact she believed she couldn't be redeemed and was only truly there to visit a friend. Had it been any other reason, she would've been in trouble. 

   However there was a small period of time that she seemed to catch an angel's attention, and not any angel, but apparently the First Man himself. Though he paid no mind to it other than the fact they bickered and Nimue had returned to the manor that day bitching about him and the fact he scruffed her after she bit him. Surprised that Adam hadn't killed her for her actions, he thought nothing more of it.

So why would he be worried about some angel?

   He was given a reason after the war to worry about this fucking angel, it seems. Imagine his surprise when he's called from the remains of the battlefield by his own pet so to speak, in order to help her get Adam to safety. Of course it was after he quite literally yelled at her for being stupid, and her begging him to help because Charlie wouldn't have wanted him to actually die. 

   To say his blood was boiling was an understatement, but he decides to help, maybe to watch this angel struggle to get back to where he needs to go only to fail and maybe even eventually be torn apart by other demons eventually. He'll let Nimue play caretaker for awhile, maybe if he's lucky, Adam will scare her off and make her stop on his own.

Seems he was wrong about that. 

   The one time he lets Nimue out without supervision, due to her needing time away from the manor due to their newest addition, he's a little surprised when she comes back with a conflicted look on her face, and gradually he notes the changes. Saying nothing for the moment, he lets it go. 

   It's when he notices that she's starting to actually mess around with Adam that it becomes a problem. That spells trouble, or at least more trouble than what she's already in. He doesn't like the implications of someone who he owns becoming close with an angel of all people. 

   Choosing to wait until Adam had fucked off somewhere in the manor away from his office, Damien has Nimue come to him, and boy is he seething. However, for now he holds his temper and simply watches as she moves to stand across from his desk. Claws dig into the desk and drag as he moves to stand up, a snarl crossing his features. 

" How long do you plan to keep that son of a bitch here? I thought I told you to get rid of him when he's well enough to move? "

" I- He's still healing. If he goes out there he'll be killed and I- " Freezing for a moment, her ears flatten slightly as she starts to tremble. She knows Damien is angry and knows she's in trouble. " Please, I promised I'd help him get back to Heaven. Maybe not to him directly but- "

" And you didn't think to ask if I was okay with him around? " Moving closer to her, he snaps his jaw shut merely inches from her face, a threat that he will tear into her. 

" No I. I'm sorry. Please just let him stay until he can get back home, I'll do whatever you ask. "

   Ears perk up slightly as a grin crosses his face, he'll probably end up throwing them both out if Adam gets on his nerves enough, or kill him. Though for now he needs to shut down this possible ' friendship ' that could potentially grow between them.

   There's a snap of his fingers and the blackened chain with a fiery red glow appears around her neck and into his hands. Sure enough with one sharp yank, she's pulled forward as he holds her up by the chain before she can fall. Teeth bared, a slight snarl can be heard from him. 

" Stop acting buddy buddy with him, or did you forget he killed your friend? Did you ever maybe take a moment to think that he could do the very same thing to you? You're still below him, you're nothing to him. The only thing that's keeping him from killing you is me, and the fact he's using you. " 

   Taking a moment to let it sink in, he resists the urge to grin when he sees it's slowly clicking with her.

" You will never mean a thing to him, you're just another filthy sinner that he'd kill in a heartbeat if he was able to. Don't you dare forget that. "

   Within moments, the chain disappears as he shoves her backwards and knocks her onto the floor. Soon returning to the chair behind his desk, he sits back down.

" He may stay, until I find him annoying enough to toss out. But, if he goes, you go with him. Those are my terms. So you better hope I don't decide that I'm tired of him being in this manor. Because then there will be nothing stopping him from disposing of you how he sees fit, and I will not save you when that happens. Now get out. "

   There's only a nod in response as Nimue scrambles to her feet, quickly making her way out of the office as a free hand rubs at her neck where the chain resided briefly. Though after she's out and partially down the hall, she stops for a moment. Right, Adam was using her because she was technically his only safety. 

   That's fine though, she'll still keep her promise to Cain and get Adam back where he belongs, even if she is being used.

[fanficimagery]

My Roommate, the Devil

The Snap is a terrible, terrible thing, but for you it's a blessing. Your abusive boyfriend vanishes along with half the world and you try your best to start over in the new world. But then everyone comes back, including the man whose apartment you now live in.

Words: 4.5K Author's Note: Charlie Cox deserves all the love. That's all I'm going to say. Well, actually there is a trigger warning for talking about an abusive relationship and a mild confrontation. Sorry if that's not your cup of tea.

When Thanos eliminated half the world with just a snap of his fingers, you were probably one of the only humans alive who was grateful for it. While mostly everyone was going about their lives, you had been cowering in a corner and protecting yourself from shards of glass as your boyfriend threw objects at you in one of his temper tantrums.

No one had known what was going on when people suddenly turned to dust before everything quickly went to shit, and it wasn't until almost a week after that the remaining Avengers put out a statement about what had happened.

You hadn't been on your own for a little over three years, so it took you a while to get back on your own two feet. Prices for anything and everything went up, and you were just grateful that hospitals everywhere were in desperate need of nurses. Finding a new place to live, however, proved difficult but you lucked out a few months after the Snap when the perfect apartment went up on the market. It was an open floor-plan with brick walls in a fairly secure building, and the only reason it was so cheap was because of an enormous billboard two blocks away that poured too much light into the apartment at night. The apartment itself was lovely and the billboard issue was easily handled by blackout curtains.

For the next five years, you took your life back and really settled into your new life.

So of course, it all goes shit on your day off as you're lounging around your apartment in nothing but a shirt and panties. One moment you're catching up on one of your favorite supernatural shows, fantasizing about one of the lead vampires, and the next there's dust materializing between you and the TV. Your mouth drops open as a man now stands there, head turning from side to side as he tries to get his bearings.

"Who's there? Who's in my apartment?"

Your heart thumps wildly as you quickly scramble off the couch. "Y-Your apartment? This is my apartment!"

The man keeps glancing around, eyes unfocused as his hand reaches up to tug his tie loose. You walk until the couch now resides between the two of you, your heart plummeting as you hear vehicles screeching just outside your window and people shouting and screaming. His head snaps towards the window, looking but not seeing. He's.. he's blind. He must be.

"What's happening?" He asks.

It takes a moment for everything to click in your brain and your heart falls into your stomach. "You're coming back. You're all coming back," you murmur.

"Excuse me? What do you mean by coming back?"

You gulp. "Sir, this might be hard to believe, but you've been gone for five years. You and half of Earth's population have."

"No. No," he says. "That's impossible. I was here, I had a dizzy spell, and then there was this stranger in my apartment. You were here in my apartment."

"I am really sorry." You wince. "But I am telling you the truth. There was this alien named Thanos. Earth's mightiest heroes fought him in space and fought him here on Earth. We- we lost. And in losing, half of Earth's population just turned to dust and vanished with no warning whatsoever. We thought you all died."

He calms down some after your explanation, but he still seems confused as hell. "M-My friends! Foggy Nelson and Karen Page. Do you know if-"

"I'm sorry. I don't know them." He immediately starts patting down his pants' pockets, frowning when he doesn't find what he's looking for. "I, uh, I have a phone you can use if you want."

"Yes! Yes, please."

You walk back around to your coffee table, picking up your phone and holding it out for him. When he doesn't make a grab for it, your suspicions about him being blind are confirmed. "Do you, um, do you need me to dial for you?"

"Oh. Yes." He quickly rattles off the number and you dial it for him. It rings and rings before going to his friend's voicemail. "Foggy? It's Matt. I'm not sure what's going on, but there's a woman in my apartment and she tells me I've been gone for five years. If you need to reach me, call me back at this number. I.. I have no place to go and I can't seem to find my phone." You end the call, frowning at the fact that this man couldn't reach his friend. "I'm sorry about putting you on the spot. I didn't even think before telling Foggy he can reach me at your number."

"Don't even worry about it. I'm off today and tomorrow. If you need help, I'll supply it."

His shoulders sag in relief. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Anyone else you wanna call?"

"Karen." He rattles off her number next, but when you dial it, an automated message tells you the number's been disconnected.

"I'm sorry," you tell him. "There's a good chance Karen might have been blipped."

The man starts pacing back and forth, and ends up running into your sofa chair. He sighs and leans down so his hands are resting on the armrest as he hangs his head. "I'm sorry," he suddenly says. "I'll try to get out of your hair as soon as I can. I just- I need.."

"Don't even worry about it," you find yourself saying. "This was obviously your apartment before and now it's mine, and I'm sure thousands of people all around the world are having this exact same issue. If everyone suddenly reappeared, I'm positive we're about to be thrown back into chaos once more. If you're comfortable here, I don't mind having a roommate until we can get you back on your feet."

"That's awfully generous of you." He picks his head up, gaze just to the left of you. "I'm Matt Murdock, by the way."

"YN YLN."

"So Miss YLN, while I wait for my friend's call, do you mind explaining what happened again?"

"Sure. Just, uh, just let me put on some pants."

For the first time since he's appeared, his lips twitch in amusement. "You've been pantless this entire time?"

"Well this is my apartment," you say. "I was terrified at first, but when I realized you were blind, I figured I was good."

He huffs a laugh. "I'll just wait here then."

"Mhm." As you start making your way towards your bedroom, you call out over your shoulder, "Don't walk around too much. I'm sure the layout I have going on now is a lot different than what you're used to. I'll give you the tour in a bit."

Matt hums back an affirmative and you quickly pull on some joggers. You grab the hem of your overly large shirt, bunching it up in your hand and tying a knot with the material at the small of your back. And even though Matt is blind, you quickly fix your hair so you appear more presentable.

"I, um, I have water and beer if you want something to drink," you say while reappearing back in the living room. "And some wine, but it's the cheap stuff."

Matt, sitting in the lone sofa chair, picks his head up and nods. "Water would be good. Thank you."

"Mhm." You head to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of wine and a glass of water for your guest. As you head back towards Matt, you hand him his water and take a seat in the corner of your sofa with your legs tucked beneath you. "So, uh, Thanos.." You trail off with a sigh and take a sip of your wine. "According to Steve Rogers, Thanos had been looking for something called Infinity Stones. There were six of them and if all gathered by one person, they become the most powerful being in the universe."

"And this Thanos guy found them?"

"Yep." Another sip of wine. "The last one he needed was here on Earth. The Avengers and their allies tried protecting it, but they lost. And with a snap of his fingers, half the world paid the price. You all just- you vanished. Turned to dust and then nothing."

"What happened after that?"

"It was complete chaos," you tell him. "For weeks, it was nothing but violence and looting. It took Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff a while to give a statement, but after they did it kind of upped the government's morale and they eventually got everyone under control again."

"And what? Everyone just went on with their lives?"

"We had to. The remaining Avengers and their allies could not think of a single way to bring any of you back. We all just figured you had died. Hoped in some cases," you say, heartbeat slowly accelerating at the thought of your ex seeking you out.

"Hoped? Why would someone.." Matt trails off, head tilting as if listening to something only he can hear. "Did you- did you hope that someone wouldn't come back?"

"I was.. I was dating someone at the time. He wasn't exactly nice," you tell him, gulping down the rest of your wine before getting up to pour yourself some more. "He vanished mid-fight and I was left to pick up the pieces of my life. I'm happy here and if you're all coming back, there's a good chance he did too and-"

"And nothing. You're going to be fine."

"You don't know that." You retake your seat on the sofa, sighing. "He's possessive and jealous, and very easy to set off."

"But if we're reappearing where we vanished, he'll reappear in your old place, won't he?"

"Yes. And it'll piss him off even more when he realizes I'm no longer there."

"Hey, listen to me," Matt says as he looks in your general direction. "You're going to be fine. My friend Foggy and I are lawyers. If it comes down to it, we can help you out."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously." Matt grins. "Your boyfriend-"

"Ex-boyfriend."

"Okay. Your ex-boyfriend has no idea where you're at. And by the time he hunts you down, if he even decides to hunt you down, Foggy and I will have hopefully settled. You'll be in good hands."

"Thank you. I-" A sudden pounding on the apartment door startles you into spilling some of your wine. "Shit!" Your heartbeat skyrockets and the voice yelling through the door hardly settles you.

"Hey. Hey, it's fine. It's just my friend Foggy."

It takes a moment for you to calm and remember your manners, and you quickly set your glass down before getting up to answer the door. A blonde, slightly overweight man stands there, eyes wide as he pants.

"M-Matt?"

"In there." You hook your thumb over your shoulder as you step out of the way. Who you're assuming is Foggy brushes past you and you grin at his exclamation of relief upon seeing his friend.

You walk back in to see the two friends embracing one another before taking seats and you hesitantly take a seat back in your corner of the sofa. Foggy is trying to fill in Matt about what went on to ease his confusion, but Matt tells his friend you already told him as much as you could. Foggy looks at you as if just now realizing there's another person there, apologizes profusely for barging in, and then proceeds to introduce himself to you after Matt tells him your name.

Foggy then tells Matt everyone they knew who had blipped away, Karen included, and tells him that she'll be staying with him and Marci. He apologies for not being able to take Matt in and that's where you jump in.

"Oh. Well that shouldn't be a problem," you speak up for the first time. "I already told Matt he can stay. I know everything's about to go to shit again and people are going to be displaced, and this apartment is more than big enough for the two of us."

Foggy stares at you, probably in awe of how kind you're being. He then leans closer to his friend, whispering, but you still hear him loud and clear. "What is it with you and attracting all the hot girls? You literally just got back from being dusted and BAM!, hot girl accepts you into her apartment. You need to give me some of that Murdock luck."

You snort and Matt shakes his head in fond amusement.

"Well that is very generous of you, YN," Foggy says as he turns towards you once more. "Thank you for looking after my good friend Matthew here."

Matt sighs in exasperation. "Me staying here will be good for YN also. I was just told about an abusive ex who might come looking." Foggy winces. "I already told Miss YLN that we can help out if it comes down to it."

"Of course!" Foggy smiles reassuringly at you and you relax a little bit more. "And Matt, I put your stuff in storage. I can be back later with some clothes and.." He trails off, glancing towards the bedroom. "And an air mattress?"

"Oh! Matt can take my room," you say, but he's quick to refuse.

"No way. I'm perfectly fine on the couch. And besides, isn't there a billboard still outside the window?"

"Well yeah, but that's why blackout curtains were invented."

Matt grins. "I'm not taking your bedroom."

"Fine. The couch pulls out," you say. "And I have an extra cushion to add to it so it's not uncomfortable."

"Perfect." Foggy claps his hands, standing up. "Matt, real glad to have you back, buddy. Give it a day or two and we'll all go out for drinks." He then turns towards you, reaching for your hand and shaking it repeatedly. "YN, thank you so much for taking in Matt."

"It's no problem," you assure him. "At least now I have some company to watch- er, listen?- as the world goes to shit once more."

Both Matt and Foggy grin, and then Foggy's telling his friend he'll be back later with clothes and his cane and some other things he might need.

After Foggy takes his leave, you give your attention to Matt once more. "So how about that tour? You can reacquaint yourself with the apartment so you're not bumping into stuff all the time."

"Sure. I'd really like that."

Matt lasts a whole week on your sofa before his Catholic guilt kicks in and he starts looking for an apartment elsewhere. But in the one week that you'd known him, you grew incredibly fond of the blind man and his company. So throwing caution to the wind, you put some of your stuff into storage and had Foggy bring Matt's bed. It wasn't an ideal situation, but his bed fit perfectly where your dining table once was behind your sofa. And after making absolutely sure you were okay with him being there for the time being, Matt agreed to stay for a bit longer.

You worked from seven in the morning to five in the afternoon, so you had no idea what Matt did during the daytime. He, however, was very accident prone and you found yourself patching up a few scrapes here and there. The first couple of times you chalked it up to him being blind and clumsy, but the bruised and bloodied knuckles said otherwise. You, however, never confronted him about it and let him keep his secret. After all, he and Foggy had promised you free counsel if or when your ex came back around.

Late one evening, you're just getting home from work to find Matt sprawled on your sofa and listening to the local news. You grin as you head towards your bedroom, your steps faltering when you see the dried blood along your friend's temple.

Sighing, you ask, "Let me guess, I should see the other guy?"

Matt immediately realizes what you're speaking of and smiles. "Boxing incident. I guessed I missed a spot."

"You think?" You drop your bag by your bedroom entrance and then head back towards Matt. "Sit up. Let me take a look."

Knowing it's pointless arguing with you, he sits up. "The cut's just on the inside of the hairline."

"Jesus," you mumble. "You would think people would know not to take a cheap shot against a blind man." Matt chuckles and lets you angle his head whichever way you need it so you can see the small wound for yourself. "Well it's not deep enough for stitches, but I can put a bit of glue to keep it closed and to keep anything from getting in. It'll fall off anywhere from five to ten days."

"Yeah. That'll be fine."

"Okay. Hold on." You stand back up to go grab one of your First Aid kits, only to halt when someone pounds one the door. You glance at Matt, frowning. "You expecting anyone?"

He shakes his head. "No."

"One sec." You sigh and head for the door, swinging it open with a friendly grin. Only the moment you see the person standing on the other side of the door, your grin drops and your heartbeat pounds as if trying to escape your chest. "W-What are you doing here?" You ask.

Your ex, David, smirks. "What? I can't greet my girlfriend?" For every step he takes forward, you take a step back. "You know, YN, it was a real pain to reappear in our old place to a new family living there. You could have at least left a note."

"Ex-girlfriend," you tell him. "And I didn't leave a note for a r-reason. Now what do you want?"

His smirk turns cruel. "Ex? When did I agree to that?"

By now you've stumbled out of the hallway and into the room where David has the perfect view of Matt. "YN? Is something wrong? I thought I heard another voice?"

When you and David both glance at Matt, it's to see him standing with his cane in hand. Your stomach drops as you glance back at David and see his smirk turn cruel. "How adorable," he coos. "I vanish into thin fuckin' air and you start playing house with a blind man."

"I-It's not like that!" You blurt. Your heart is pounding so furiously that you feel like you're going to be sick. You keep glancing between Matt and David, the tension getting thicker by the second. "Matt and I are just-"

"Are just what, YN?" You cringe at David's tone and before you even see it coming, pain is exploding along the right side of your face. He's backhanded you. Hard.

"Hey!"

You fall back as Matt rushes forward, dropping his cane along the way. Holding your face with one hand, you shout at David and Matt as the two of them meet with fists flying. But.. but Matt is perfectly holding his own. The blind man is actually whooping David's ass!

You watch on in complete awe and shock as Matt expertly dodges David's fists, delivering well timed punches of his own that actually connect and a knee to the gut that sends David doubling over and trying to catch his breath.

Matt then grabs David by the nape of his neck and hauls him up so he's standing on his own two feet, murmuring something in his ear before shoving him towards the hallway. You can hear David scrambling for the door and then your gaze darts back to Matt as he makes his way to you without the aid of his cane. He stops in front of you, holding out a hand for you to take.

"Come on. I think it's time we cash in that favor with Foggy. He can represent you since I've gotten involved now."

"H-How did you do that?" You ask, shakily taking Matt's hand and letting him help you up. "It's like you saw every punch he was throwing, but you're blind." Matt remains quiet as he leads you to the sofa, dropping you off there and then heading towards the kitchen. "You are blind, right?"

"It's.. it's complicated."

When he comes back from the kitchen, he has a bag of frozen peas that he hands to you for your face. "Well then uncomplicate it. I'm all ears, Murdock."

"Let me make a call to Foggy real quick. I'll explain after." He does as he said he would, calling Foggy and telling him to get to the apartment as soon as possible as you attempt to get comfortable with the ice cold peas against the side of your face. When he's done, he takes a seat on the opposite end of the sofa you're sitting on. He sighs. "When I had the accident that took my eyesight, it heightened my other senses."

"To the point that it made you a complete badass?"

He huffs a laugh. "No. I had to learn to fight like that."

"Matt," you say in utter disbelief, "the way you fought, that isn't normal for a blind individual."

"Well I'm not totally blind." He gulps and you sit a little taller at his confession. "It's kind of like- like a world on fire. It literally looks like everything is on fire until there's movement or sound and then I can see. Sort of."

"So all those times I've walked around in nothing but a shirt and underwear, you could see?" His lips twitch and your eyes widen before you chuckle in disbelief. "You're such a dick, Matthew."

"I apologize. If it makes you feel any better, I never actually looked when I realized you were half naked." He's smiling in your general direction before his head tilts as if he's listening for something. "Foggy's rushing down the hall. He must have been close when I called him."

"What? You can hear him coming down the-"

There's a sudden pounding on the door before it's opened and then closed, and Foggy rushes around the corner nearly out of breath. "What happened? What's going on?" Looking at him, you remove the bag of peas and he winces. "Is that a black eye?!"

"Remember that ex I told you about? Well he finally paid a visit."

"Jesus, YN," Foggy says. "Are you okay? Is that your only injury? Do you need a hospital?"

"Foggy. Foggy!" Matt says, chuckling. "She's fine."

"I'm okay," you assure the blonde. "Apparently Matt's been holding back on me. He totally kicked ass today."

"Oh good." Foggy's whole demeanor seems to relax. "Now that the whole Daredevil secret is out of the bag, we don't have to censor ourselves anymore."

Wait. What? "Daredevil? What are you talking about?"

You glance between both men- Foggy who looks like a deer caught in headlights and Matt who's pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You.. you didn't know?" Foggy squeaks.

"No, Foggy, she didn't know," Matt says. "All I told her was that I had heightened senses and learned to defend myself."

"What the actual living fuck," you mumble. There's a split second where the room is eerily quiet before Foggy has the audacity to giggle and Matt grin. Your mind is whirling with every news headline and picture you've ever seen of Daredevil, and then.. and then you sigh and lean back in your seat while placing the bag of peas back on your face once again. "You know what, all your injuries make sense now." Another bout of silence follows before you say, "And can I just say that, that suit of yours does wonders for your ass. I don't know how I didn't realize sooner."

Foggy loses it, guffawing loudly as Matt shakes his head in amusement. "You look at my ass?"

"Fair's fair, devil boy."

"I don't stare at your ass. I politely look elsewhere."

"Oh bullshit." Foggy huffs. "Your good boy Catholic mannerisms fool no one."

Everyone shares a laugh and then a minute later, the laughter tapers off.

"So are you really okay with this?" Matt asks. "I can find an apartment elsewhere if this is too much for you."

"Are you kidding? This is actually kind of cool," you say. "You keep on and I'll just- I'll continue playing dumb. But I need to see you in that suit of yours up close at least once. For educational purposes, of course."

"Oh. Of course." Matt smirks.

"So now that that's out of the way, let's talk about what happened to your face," Foggy says.

You groan. "David came over and he wasn't happy he reappeared in our old apartment, only to find a new family living there. He was under the assumption we were still dating, I told him we weren't, and then he got set off by seeing Matt here. He backhanded me and then Matt kicked his ass."

"Do you want to file a restraining order?" Foggy then asks.

"Yes." Matt answers for you. "I know men like him. He'll retreat for now, but he'll be back after he licks his wounds. It'll also be a good idea to photograph the evidence of tonight's altercation and file a police report so they'll have a file started on David in case this ever happens again."

"You two are the lawyers," you say. "Just tell me what to do and I'll do it."

You and Foggy spend the next few minutes talking and him taking up close pictures of your bruised face, and then he steps into the kitchen to make a phone call to Karen to get your paperwork started.

You wander back towards Matt and he grins as you take a seat on the arm rest closest to him. "So my suit, huh?"

"Yep. If you let me feel you up a little, I'll make you home cooked meals for a week."

Matt chuckles. "I think your brain got a little addled when you took that hit."

"Nah. Just made my tongue a little looser."

"You know when you get back from the police department, we have a lot to talk about."

"Oh for sure. But I better not come back to all your stuff missing, Murdock. I've grown accustomed to having you around."

"I attract trouble."

"Daredevil attracts trouble. Matt Murdock attracts ridiculously hot girls that are envious of me because I have you as a roommate and they don't."

His lips twitch. "My enemies will eventually figure it out."

"Then when they do, we'll be prepared. If I have to leave until you take care of the problem, then I will, but there's no use in talking about it right now."

"Hey YN, are you ready to go?" Foggy says as he's finally done with the phone call.

"Sure. Let me just grab my bag." You walk over to pick up your bag once more, chancing a look in Matt's direction one last time as you head towards the hallway where Foggy is waiting. "Seriously, Murdock, chill. And don't leave. I'll hunt you down and figure out how to kick your ass if you leave me high and dry here."

He chuckles softly. "I'll be here."

"Good. See you later."