#you know she kept smiling until the end of her shift and then went home and cried

[99thpercentile]

my heart hurts so bad for Alice. she was just standing there listening to Sam ask Celia on a date and getting her heart broken all over again, and then went straight into making fun of Sam and cracking jokes like nothing was wrong.

[itneverendshere]

Perhaps Rafe x Shy!Bartender reader at the country club. Maybe she was driven there and was supposed to get picked up, but shit got in the way. And she is far from home. Rafe is there that day for golfing or something and it’s her first day. He is instantly smitten and waits until her shift is over to properly ask her out, and notices she has no car to get home and gets protective

i looooved this and in my head this is EXACTLY how rafe and pogue!reader from this request met. this is the same universe, im making it canon rn

it could be you and me - rafe cameron

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader word count: 3.5k

Rafe slid through the crowd, heading toward the golf course. He had plans to join Topper for a round or two.

Like usual, his presence drew glances—partially because of the rumors that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Being the epitome of privilege, born into the wealth that afforded him everything, made sure that all eyes were on him, everywhere he went on that stupid fucking town. But that day, he’d been off his game from the moment he woke up.

He felt out of place, restless and mostly, bored. Every day in this place felt the same to him. The pleasures he used to get from being a kook were slowly burning out. The days had started blending together, the endless cycle of parties, and drinks had begun to lose its allure. Doing the same thing, over and over again. 

Nothing was new. Nothing was exciting anymore.

He was bored out of his mind. Golf wasn’t exactly his passion, but it was a way to pass the time, to pretend like he shouldn’t be in the office finishing whatever paperwork his father had shoved down his throat the night before. 

He needed a drink if he wanted to get through the rest of the day without breaking something.

He approached the clubhouse and noticed a small crowd gathered at the bar. It wasn’t an unusual sight—it was one of the most popular spots in the club—but something, or rather someone, caught his attention.

Behind the counter, there was someone he’d never seen before.

You wore the standard uniform of the club's staff—white blouse, black slacks, hair pulled back into a neat ponytail—but there was something about you that made him stop in his tracks. You weren’t a kook, that much was clear. And you were new. Way too new by the looks of the growing line.

You were busy, pouring drinks, smiling politely at the members, but he could tell you were nervous from the way you overdid it. It was like you were trying to make yourself small for those people. It didn’t help that they treated you like you were invisible, snapping their fingers or raising their voices to get your attention.

Fucking assholes.

He didn’t know why he felt so irritated all of the sudden. He’d done the same thing times and times again, he was no better than any of them, on a good day. But he hated watching it happen to you. He couldn’t stop staring, he felt creepy as he listed all the little things he noticed about you. Your hands moved quickly, but delicately, as if you took great care in everything you did.

You turned to reach for a bottle on a high shelf and he finally caught a good glimpse of your face—a glimpse that nearly made him drop his golf club on the spot. There was something striking about you. It was in the way your eyes narrowed as you focused on pouring the right amount of alcohol on a drink, and the way your lips pursed ever so slightly as you kept concentrating.

You were beautiful, yes, but it was more than that. He’d seen pretty girls all his life, he made sure he surrounded himself with them. But you? You were something else. 

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a genuine curiosity, to know more about someone. He didn’t think about hooking up, about asking for your number. You didn’t belong here and maybe that’s what made you so good.

The shift seemed never-ending, even though it was your first day.

Most of the club members hadn’t even bothered to learn your name —either way, you were having a hard time keeping up. 

You hadn’t wanted to take the job, but you didn’t have much of a choice. The country club was the only place hiring that summer, and you needed the money. Your friend had driven you there earlier that morning, promising to pick you up after your shift. But earlier, when you had glanced at your phone during a ten-second break, you saw a text from her saying she’d been held up—something about the car breaking down.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, shoving your phone back into your pocket as you handed a gin and tonic to a bald asshole who didn’t even bother to thank you. You were stuck here, away from home, and the last thing you wanted to do was ask one of these people for help.

Your nerves had already skyrocketed. Between the constant drink orders, the lack of polite smiles, and trying your best not to spill anything or offend any of these spoiled kooks, you were losing your mind. Being the center of attention wasn’t your forte, and being behind the bar was giving you a migraine as the members kept barking their orders, complaining when their drinks weren’t perfect, and barely acknowledging your existence.

You could feel their judgmental stupid eyes on you, like you were some sort of animal—a pogue. 

The buzz in your stomach kept getting stronger with every minute.

You wished you could just disappear, but you needed the job and so, you had no option but to take it like a big girl and get used to it. By the end of the day, your hands trembled slightly as you reached for another bottle, your muscles aching from trying to keep up with the endless demands.

As you handed yet another whiskey on the rocks to an ungrateful rich asshole, you noticed someone approaching the bar from the corner of your eye. Unlike the others, he didn’t immediately shout his order or snap his fingers. He just stood there, watching you, a slight smirk on his face.

It was hard not to recognize him—Rafe Cameron. You’d heard stories about him, of course. Everyone in the Outer Banks had. He was practically royalty, the golden boy of one of the wealthiest families around.

You hated being stared at, it made you feel even more out of place than you already did. You could feel your cheeks turning red just from that alone.

“Can I get you something?” you asked, politely yet barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Rafe leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving your face, “What do you recommend?”

He sounded amused. Like he was genuinely enjoying himself. Like he didn’t know this was your first day on the job. You knew he did because everything about him screamed Country Club boy. You hadn’t exactly had time to memorize the menu. But you didn’t want to look like a stupid in front of a kook, let alone kook royalty. 

“Uh, well, the mojitos are pretty popular,” you offered, hoping that was true.

He raised a brow, his smirk widening. “Mojitos, huh? Alright, I’ll take one.”

You nodded and quickly got to work, trying to ignore the way your hands were shaking. As you muddled the mint leaves and squeezed the lime, you could feel his eyes on you.

Jesus, what was his problem with the staring? Was there something on your face? Were you doing this whole thing wrong? It was unnerving. When you finally handed him the drink, he took it with a nod, but instead of walking away, he stayed there, sipping it slowly in front of you, like some kind of test. 

“You’re new here,” he remarked, more as a statement than a question.

You swallowed nervously and nodded. “Yeah, first day.”

He took another sip, “Not a bad start,” he said, his tone almost teasing.

Was he trying to be funny? You gave him a small, tight-lipped smile, not entirely sure if he was mocking you or being genuine. Before he could say anything else, another customer called for your attention, and you turned away to help them. 

Rafe didn’t move. Even as you worked, he stayed rooted to his seat. Every time you glanced in his direction, he was still there, watching you, not looking the least bit shameful about it. He left eventually.

By six thirty, the club was mostly empty, save for a few stragglers lingering at the bar and some late-night golfers finishing their rounds. You wiped down the counter one last time, wondering how the hell you were going to get home. You’d almost forgotten about the earlier text from your friend, but now your anxiety was back. 

You didn’t have anyone else to call and walking home alone, at night was terrifying, small town or not. You pulled out your phone and stared at it, praying for another solution to pop into your head, but nothing came.

“Come on, think…” you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. It was a mess after being up in a ponytail the entire day but it was starting to give you a headache, so you took it down, hoping it would help you think clearer. It didn't.

Taking a taxi would cost more than you could afford, especially on your shitty bartender’s salary. You were pacing back and forth behind the bar, wondering how your luck had already gone down the drain on your first day working. 

In your panic, you didn’t notice someone else standing outside the glass doors of the clubhouse, watching you with a keen eye. Rafe had finished his round of golf earlier and had been hanging around, talking to a few of his father’s friends. He almost laughed at how stressed you looked but took pity on you when you almost broke down into tears right there and then.

He couldn’t have that.

You didn’t even see him walk up to the door and push it open. The sound of it swinging shut behind him startled you, and you looked up, your eyes widening as he approached you.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t move closer, just stood there by the door, giving you space.

You stared at him, still trying to catch your breath, not exactly hiding how freaked out you were. “I— I’m fine,” you stammered out. You clutched your phone tightly, as if it could somehow find you a safe way home.

Rafe bit his lip, clearly not convinced, “Y’sure about that? Cause you look like you’re two seconds away from a meltdown.”

His words, though blunt, weren’t meant to be harsh. At least you didn’t think they were, but hearing them out loud made you realize just how close you were to losing it publicly, in your workplace. You exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to your forehead.

“It’s nothing, I just…uh, I don’t have a ride home,” you admitted reluctantly,. “My friend was supposed to pick me up, but her car broke down, and now I’m stuck here.” The last part came out in a rush, as if saying it faster would somehow make it less true.

This felt like the luckiest day in his life.

“That’s it?” he asked, sounding almost relieved. “I can take you home, no problem.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the offer. “What? No, I— I don’t want to impose, it’s late, and—”

You were so cute it almost made it impossible to scold you.

“You’re not imposing,” Rafe cut you off, “It’s not safe for you to be out here alone, especially at this hour. Just lemme give you a ride, okay?”

You hadn’t imagined him like this. Speaking to you, a pogue so…normally. There was something in his voice, in the way he spoke to you, that made you pause. He wasn’t pushing, wasn’t demanding. He was just offering help. He sounded nothing like the Rafe you’d heard about.

You hesitated, glancing back at your phone again as if you might find a better solution, but you knew deep down you weren’t finding shit. There was no one else you could call, no other option that made sense. And as much as you hated the idea of relying on someone you barely knew, on a kook of all people, you didn’t feel like sleeping on the streets.

“Okay,” you finally agreed, your voice quiet as you looked up at him. You hadn’t expected him to be so tall, “But just this once.”

Rafe’s lips twitched, “Just this once,” he echoed as he gestured toward the door. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

He led you to his car, a sleek, black SUV that practically screamed money. He opened the passenger door for you, and you slid inside, feeling a bit out of place. You’d never been inside such a luxurious vehicle. The plush leather seats were…something. You sat quietly, too scared to break something as he got in on the driver’s side, starting the engine with a quiet hum.

The drive started off in silence. You kept your eyes focused on the road, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were in Rafe Cameron’s car, being driven home by him. It sounded almost delusional. 

After a few minutes, Rafe spoke up “So, where do you live?” he asked, glancing over at you.

He knew you were a pogue, that was a given. But he’d never seen you around before.

You quickly gave him your address, and he nodded, adjusting the GPS on his dashboard. As he did, you couldn’t help but admire how calm and collected he seemed. It was almost unsettling how comfortable he was in situations like this—small talk with strangers, a situation that always has you squirming.  

“Thanks, by the way, I really appreciate it.”

He quickly glanced over at you, “Don’t mention it. It’s no big deal.”

Except it was. You were even prettier up close, and your perfume scent was messing with his head, if it wasn’t for the GPS's stupid robotic voice he’d be lost by now.

It was a big deal to you too. It wasn’t every day that someone like Rafe went out of their way to help someone like you. And the fact that he’d done it without a second thought, without expecting anything in return was very, very confusing. 

“First day at the club, huh?” Was he trying to make small talk with you? Oh wow. His tone was so casual, like this was the most normal conversation in the world, like you two had known each other for years, and weirdly enough, you didn’t mind. “How’d it go?”

You hesitated, not sure how much you should say. Your instinct was to lie and avoid making things awkward. “Oh, it was great,” your voice raised an octave as it always did when you tried to lie your way out of conversations, “Everyone was really nice!”

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave the road as he let out a low chuckle. “Bullshit.”

Your smile faltered. “W-What?”

“Come on,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “I watched you get run ragged by those assholes all day. You looked like you wanted to set the bar on fire.”

You opened your mouth to lie again, but before you could stop yourself, the self righteous girl in you decided to take charge. 

“Okay, fine, it was awful. Those people are the worst. They treat everyone like shit and act like they’re God’s gift to the world just because they’ve got money.” Your voice grew louder as you vented, all the frustration from the day spitting out, “I mean, who the fuck do they think they are? Just because they can afford to spend their summers at a country club doesn’t make them better than everyone else.”

Rafe’s laughter broke through your rant, and you stopped short, suddenly realizing who you were talking to. You turned to look at him, wide-eyed, your heart sinking. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered horrified, hand covering your mouth, “You’re a kook.”

He was laughing so hard that his shoulders shook, his hand gripping the steering wheel as he tried to catch his breath. “Holy shit,” he managed to wheeze out between laughs, “You really hate us, don’t you?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I didn’t mean you specifically,” you mumbled, your face burning, “I just...I don’t know what came over me.”

Rafe shook his head, still chuckling as he pulled up to a stoplight. “Nah, it’s fine. You’re not wrong about most of them. But, y’know, not all kooks are complete assholes.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, still mortified. “So you’re not an asshole?”

“Oh no, I am,” He snorted, “Just not to you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, lowering your hands to your lap, “Good.”

You couldn’t stop staring at him. He was different than you’d imagined—more down-to-earth, less of a caricature of the wealthy villain you’d built up in your mind.

“So,” he said after a while, his tone still light, like he was holding back, trying not to scare you off, “What made you take the job at the club? Guessing it wasn’t for the stellar company.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I just needed a job for the summer, and they were the only place hiring.”

“Lucky us,” he said, and when you looked at him, he was giving you that same playful smirk. “You might be the only decent person in that place.”

Your cheeks warmed again, and you had to look away, fiddling with a loose thread on your shirt. “I don’t know about that,” you murmured.

He glanced over, noticing the shy way you avoided his gaze, and his smirk softened. “I do.”

You must’ve hit your head earlier.

Was he flirting with you of all people? He was going to send you into cardiac arrest. You didn’t know how to answer, so you stayed quiet, the silence only broken by the quiet hum of the car’s engine and the GPS’s occasional directions.

When Rafe finally pulled up in front of your house, you hesitated before unbuckling your seatbelt. It felt like you had something more to say, but you weren’t sure what. He seemed to sense it too because he didn’t rush you, just turned off the engine and leaned back in his seat, waiting.

You finally turned to him, “Thanks again, Rafe. For everything. I really appreciate it.”

He nodded, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that made it hard to look away. 

“Anytime. Seriously. If you ever need anything, just let me know.”

The offer seemed so sincere, so out of character for the guy you’d heard about, that it left you momentarily speechless. He kept proving you wrong. 

“I will.”

With a final nod, you pushed open the door and stepped out, the cool night air hitting you as you closed the door behind you. You took a few steps toward your house before turning back, catching one last glimpse of him sitting there. 

His grip on the steering wheel tightened involuntarily when you looked back. He'd offered to drive girls home before—plenty of times, in fact—but this was different. When you waved, he felt like a schoolboy who only got to see his crush at school and spent the entire weekends daydreaming about her. 

Once you walked inside, he leaned back in his seat, exhaling a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

He couldn’t stop thinking about you sitting in his passenger seat, looking so out of place yet so perfect at the same time. Like you belonged right there, next to him. There was something so refreshingly genuine about you. You weren’t like the girls he knew—the ones who flaunted their wealth, who expected the world to bend over backward for them. You were different, unpretentious, and honest in a way that made him feel like he could drop the act for once.

Like he didn’t have to be Rafe Cameron, the reckless, arrogant kook.

No, with you, he could just be Rafe. And that was something he hadn’t realized he was missing until tonight.

He was done for. He knew he wasn’t going to stop until you were his.

The thought of anyone else having you, of you smiling at someone else the way you had at him tonight—it made him want to break someone’s teeth. He had a reputation, and he knew that if you heard even half of the stories about him, you’d probably want nothing to do with him after tonight. But he didn’t care. Because there was something about you that made him want to be better, to be the kind of guy you deserved.

He could already see it—the two of you, together. He’d give you the world, everything you deserved, and more. He’d make sure you never had to worry about a thing. You were perfect, too perfect for this world, and now that he’d found you, he wasn’t going to let you slip away. 

He’d make sure of it—you were going to be his girl. And nothing was going to stop him.

[onmykneesformatt]

vanilla - c.s.

requested: yes!!

synopsis: after a lengthy relationship, chris decides to try and surprise you on your 7 month anniversary. it doesn’t go how he planned, and he feels bad.

warnings: SMUT OH MY FUCK. just very aggressive (no major abuse or violence), degrading, choking, hair-pulling, overstimulation, use of safe word, aftercare, angst (happy ending tho!!), i don’t think anything else but lmk!!

a/n: i think it’s about time i write smth about chris and feed y’all. so, eat up!! (also i tried to put a picture and it literally wouldn’t let me😭)

you and chris never really thought about kinks or anything like that. you had talked about it, but the furthest you two ever went was just filming it once or twice. even then, it was still very vanilla. it was soft, enjoyable, and not very rough.

chris wanted to change that.

“so, wait. are we going somewhere?”

“we can, but that’s not the surprise.”

chris kind of smirked, knowing that his surprise was not something you expected.

“can you just tell me? it almost dark out and we’be barely done anything all day except for you making me a nice breakfast. which, i did appreciate by the way.”

“you’re welcome, and no. i’m not telling you.”

he tapped his fingertips together and chuckled lightly. he liked surprising you. he’d done it multiple times before. a bouquet on your door step, a new pair of expensive heels, even flying home early from boston and not telling you. it was his thing.

and tonight was a surprise.

-

at 9:30 pm, you started to get ready for bed. you almost did it in protest for how you and chris barely did anything today.

“oooh, what’s this? toner? replace the t with a b.”

he giggled. how dare he? after not giving you a major day like he does every other anniversary?

you kept a straight face, not breaking eye contact with your face in the mirror as you kept applying serums and creams.

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing, chris.”

he knew that whenver you ended a sentence with his name, you were mad.

“look, how about i meet you in the bedroom in five minutes, and make it up to you?”

you let a little smile show, remembering that your surprise to him was a peachy-orange lingerie set that hugged you in all the right places and showed all the right skin.

“fine.”

-

it started slow and sweet, like always.

but it slowly turned into more.

he went from having you on your back with him lightly laying on you to flipping you onto all fours and ripping the new lingerie set off— literally.

“chris-“

“shut up and take it. i know you can, slut.”

it felt good, the way he was pounding into you.

what didn’t feel good was him calling you the one word you didn’t like. after he started pulling your hair, it all felt real.

were you really just some toy he used? was this his breaking point where he realized he didn’t actually like or respect you like he pretended?

“chris, i don’t-“

he pushed your face into the pillow, tightening his grip on your hair.

“i said shut the fuck up. god, you really are just some slut who thinks she can do anything she wants.”

tears started welling in your eyes. they only strengthened when he started swatting your ass and digging his free hand into your back.

it hurt. like, actually hurt. but he wouldn’t listen.

he was never like this. chris? be aggressive? especially in such a vulnerable moment? never. until now.

after almost suffocating with your face in the pillow for what felt like hours, you tried to shift your face over just enough to be able to breathe. it was hard, with his grip on your hair pushing your head down into it.

eventually, you were able to properly breathe. you started breathing heavier and heavier. not from pleasure, but from overstimulation. from pain.

“i- i can’t! chris!”

he could barely hear you over his grunts and the sounds of skin slapping loudly.

“cant.. can’t what? slut can’t use her words now?”

you tried, but he was causing you so much pain that the tears were taking over. so much so, that you just broke.

what he thought were breaths and tears of pleasure started to settle in, and he finally realized. your pillow and face wet with a taste of salt, and your heart pounding so bad you started shaking.

he slowed down, moving your messy, wet hair out of your face.

“vanilla! vanilla!”

your safe word. you never needed it before, but you guys thought of it after having sex the first or second time. he always wanted you to know you were in control of what was happening too. in a sort of inside joke/mockery, he made it “vanilla”.

“hey- hey.”

he took a second to gather himself and pull out, sitting next to you on the bed. your body fell limp on the sheets.

“what’s wrong-“

“no!”

he tried to rub your shoulder, but your yelling frightened him. it should’ve. the way he caused you the pain he did was horrible.

“hey-“

“just- stop! what-“

your crying intensified, leaving him with a concerned look.

“what made you think that was okay?!”

you tried to stand, stabling yourself with a hand on the bed and the other holding a throw blanket to cover your body.

“what do you mean-“

“what do i mean? chris- you just.. started going crazy! it felt good at first, but you pulled my hair, you dug your nails into my back! you- you called me a slut!”

“i thought-“

“no you didn’t! you didn’t think at all!”

it finally hit him.

that word.

the one word he promised to never use.

“baby- i didn’t mean any of it!”

“then why’d you do it!”

tears turning into anger at his stupidity slowly dried up.

“i thought it would be a nice surprise for our anniversary! but, i’m sorry. i forgot about that word.”

that word was used against you everyday in highschool, ever since you gave some kid a handjob at the park. anytime you wore something even slightly revealing. it opened a floodgate for name-calling.

the tears started up again once silence filled the bedroom.

again, chris was never like this. you always thought he would provide the comfort you so desperately needed in your life. however, it seemed like he thought otherwise.

chris stood up, walked around the bed, and engulfed you in his arms. after realizing that he truly didn’t mean it (doesn’t make it okay, but it’s good he realized he was in the wrong), you hugged him back.

“how about we clean up. can i help you with that?”

you sniffled while stepping back from him. you dropped the blanket and wiped your eyes.

“yeah.”

you spoke softly, still trying to catch light breaths.

he grabbed your hand, leading you the bathroom.

he started the shower, grabbing your coconut body wash out of the bathroom closet along with a soft, white towel.

after getting you into the perfectly-warm shower, he started to clean you up. he didn’t let you move a muscle. he made sure you were fully clean and taken care of before even thinking about himself. he grazed your body with the loofah, making sure every inch was perfectly covered.

“i really am sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to take it that far. i think i just got too excited. i’ll never do it again, i can promise you that.”

“a warning would’ve been nice. i get why you did it. throw in a little variety, or whatever. but that word really set me off.”

“i know, i know.”

he kissed the back of your damp head, making sure you knew he meant his sorrow.

“i forgot. but, no excuse. how about now i dry you off and get you into some comfy clothes, hm?”

his tone was low but sweet. your heart stopped racing, your breath caught up, and your mind was at ease.

“okay.”

after he dried you off, still not letting you do it yourself, he grabbed your hand to lead back into the bedroom. while you were sat patiently on the edge of the bed, he rummaged through drawers and shelves looking for your favorite sleep shirt and a pair of under wear with comfortable shorts.

“this good?”

“yes. thank you.”

“stand up, please.”

you dropped your towel, letting him glide the extra large graphic tee over your head. you lifted each leg as he slid the underwear up, then doing the same with the loose shorts.

“get comfy in bed, i got some treats for you earlier.”

“really? thank you, chris.”

“anything for my girl. she deserves nothing but the best, so i try all for her.”

he kissed your forehead before you slid into the bed, pulling the thick comforter over your body and turning on your favorite show.

-

you fell asleep in eachothers arms, but not until he gave you a lengthy apology.

you know he didn’t mean it, but he needed you to remember he wouldn’t do it again.

his heartbeat under your head lulled you into a deep slumber. a soft, orange light coming from the lamp in the corner of the bedroom mixed with the tv still playing your favorite show made just enough light for you to not have any other worries that night. an open bag of the tastiest chocolate on the nightstand next to two open soda cans had filled your stomach and your heart. the soft laugh tracks in the background and fan lightly blowing on you gave you the comfort you needed.

the biggest comfort was chris’ concern.

he loves you.

you love him.

that’s all you need.

-

AHHHH ITS DONEEEEEEE!!!!! i pray that this is as good as y’all are expecting 😭😭 but seriously though, i thank y’all for the support. i’m at 300 followers already (WHAT THE FUCK) and i couldn’t have done it without you guys. love y’all!! mwah!!💋❣️🌺

taglist: @sleepysturniolo @suyqa @jessie-essie @sturnsobsessed

sorry if i missed anyone that wanted to be tagged!!

[haveagarbageday]

Defeated \\ Charles Leclerc, Oscar Piastri, Jenson Button

summary: Charles and Oscar both fall in love with you, and they do their best to impress you. But you're not interested, and eventually they find out why.

additional info: Mercedes!driver!reader. Jenson won the vote, so here we are. No happy ending for Charles and Oscar. Anyway, I'm like a dog with a bone, I'm not letting that Webber idea go. So expect a story where Oscar loves reader, but he finds out she's with Mark.

warnings: age gap

After the whole adoption joke, the friendship of Charles and Oscar reached a new stage. Sure, they had been friends before, but this shifted the dynamic in the direction of something better, something based on mutual respect. They helped each other, they kept in touch outside race weekends too–to the point Oscar was often invited to family dinners since everyone took that joke far too seriously–and everything was great in general.

That’s until the beginning of the 2025 season. Mercedes announced your arrival the year before, but you were just another rookie, someone they didn’t know that well. But then you scored some precious points on your first race, and you kept up this exceptional performance, eventually challenging your teammate for higher positions. This caught their interest, although they weren’t alone. Many drivers looked at your twenty-two years old self as a little sister, someone they wanted to protect from the sport’s toxic environment.

But these two didn’t see you as a sister, far from that. They had a soft spot for you after getting to know you better, and without ever discussing it, they both started to flirt with you in their own ways. Oscar decided to befriend you first, giving himself the chance to talk to you even when you weren’t in the paddock together, he invited you to hang out with him, and he always made sure to sneak a few sentences that hinted at his intention into your conversations. Charles was more straightforward with his compliments, whether it was related to your driving or the way you looked that day, and he even brought you small gifts, always saying he just happened to think of you when he saw them.

They both noticed what the other was doing, which led to a cold war between the two of them, slowly poisoning their relationship, although they didn’t let it show. They kept talking on the race weekends, they didn’t unfollow each other on social media, but the tone of their conversations became a lot colder. But one day they decided to talk about this, and even though neither of them said it out loud that this was the reason for their meeting, deep down they both knew they had to discuss what they should do.

As they were sitting in the secluded corner of a café back home in Monaco, just a day before they were supposed to head to their next race weekend, Oscar let out a long sigh and took a sip of his coffee and looked over at the door when someone walked in. He wanted to figure out how to bring you up, how to shift the conversation about the upcoming race to you, about the situation they found themselves in.

But Charles seemed to be a step ahead of him, because he cleared his throat to get his attention, then went, “You like her, don’t you?”

The Aussie nodded, a small smile unintentionally creeping on his face at the thought of you. “I believe you feel the same,” he said after a short break.

“What’s not to like?” the fellow driver asked, and the younger man across from him nodded once again in agreement, muttering true under his breath. Charles unexpectedly let out a troubled sigh and leaned back in his chair, a hand now resting on the back of his neck. “I don’t know about you, but she keeps me at arm’s length. It’s like I’ve been friend zoned.”

Oscar’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You too? I thought she was acting like this because she chose you,” he admitted.

His friend watched him with narrowed eyes, his brain in overdrive as he thought about the possible reasons. Did you have someone? Were you focusing on your job instead of looking for a relationship? It must be the latter, after all you had once told him you wanted to survive your first year without any kind of drama. You also said you were using Oscar as a reference point, because he managed to exist in this world with his private life mostly kept private.

“I wouldn’t be here if she chose me. I would spend every free moment with her, but she’s just not interested. What do we do now? I don’t want to forget her, I don’t know if I could,” he said.

The McLaren driver licked his lips and looked down at the cup in front of him. “Me neither. But what if we have no choice? We can’t force her to choose between us,” he began, stopping for a moment while he thought. “What if our attempts are futile and she wouldn’t pick either of us in the end? Maybe it’s time to admit we have no chance.”

Charles let out a laugh as he shook his head. “You can give up if you want, but I’ll keep trying.”

Despite their little competition being perfectly fine until now, Oscar felt the need to set some rules, just so their chances were even. He suggested the other man to tone it down a bit, to stop trying to buy your love with gifts, because those meant a lot to you, you had told him that yourself before. It’s not that he wasn’t ready to shower you with things your heart desired, he just didn’t think it was fair to manipulate you like this. But the Monegasque only laughed at this and said maybe it wasn't him who had to tone it down, maybe it was Oscar who had to step up his game.

Either way, you still didn’t show any interest in them, not romantically at least.

On one race weekend Jenson Button showed up, being there for Williams, but spending some time with Sky Sports too, doing interviews with a few of the drivers. Oscar was waiting for his turn not far from them, watching as you answered the questions with that big smile on your face, and he couldn’t help but smile himself, because it made him fall in love with you again.

Then he heard Jenson go, “I heard you felt a little sick this morning. Do you think it could affect your weekend?”

Your eyes widened, clearly surprised by the question, but it only lasted for a second, because you were quick to respond as calmly as you could. “I’m fine, maybe it’s just some dehydration, I’ll drink more, and I’ll be good as new,” you said with a small smile forced on your face.

After a few more questions it was a wrap for you, and you began to walk away, but Jenson excused himself and went after you, probably to apologize for bringing up your health problem when you hadn’t talked about it yet. As you said, it wasn’t serious, maybe there was no reason to mention it. Now, Oscar didn’t want to eavesdrop, he usually respected other people’s privacy, but neither of you noticed he was nearby, and you began to talk in a normal voice that made it impossible for him not to hear it without walking away.

“What the fuck was that? We agreed, everything that happens behind closed doors stays there,” you hissed angrily.

The Aussie had his suspicions, but maybe he was wrong, maybe it was just his imagination running wild. But when Jenson let out a sigh and raised his hands in defense, he knew his first instinct was right. “I thought we agreed that you would go to the medical center to figure out what this is. You said you didn’t, what was I supposed to do?” he asked.

You let out an incredulous laugh. “So what, pressuring me on air was the best you could come up with? I’m fine, I already told you, let’s just drop this.”

Jenson took a step closer to you, his hand slowly reaching out to touch you, but he changed his mind last minute. “All right, you’re right, it wasn’t fair. I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you tonight. How does that sound?” You watched him for a few seconds, then nodded. “Good, we’ll discuss the details later. Be a good girl until then.”

After you waved him goodbye and left, he returned to his place in front of the camera, and Oscar was finally told it was his turn. But after seeing this? There was no way he could keep his cool while talking to him, or at least it would take a lot more effort than usual. Now he knew why you weren’t interested in either him nor Charles, and this broke his heart. From all the people around them, you seriously had to pick someone so much older than you? Someone you couldn’t openly date?

In the afternoon, he sent a text to Charles, asking for an emergency meeting in the evening, and so now the two of them were sitting in his hotel room with a bottle of booze and two glasses in front of them. Oscar told his friend everything he had heard and seen that day, and they both became absolutely depressed, hitting the rock bottom by the end of the story. They tried to figure out what to do now, but they agreed that exposing your relationship would have been a terrible move, and they didn’t even feel like intervening.

“Do you think she loves him?” Charles asked with a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling.

Oscar shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, she was smiling so brightly, especially when she was talking to him. And Jenson brought up her sickness because he was worried about her, so maybe it’s a mutual feeling.”

Silence fell between them as it became obvious that they had no chance, not before either you or Jenson got bored of the other and broke up. Once they emptied the bottle, Charles stood up and said goodnight, deciding to go back to his own hotel room to get some proper sleep so he could focus the next day. “My heart is already broken, I don’t want my car to be broken too,” he told Oscar before leaving. It was painful, yes, but maybe they would have a chance to fight for you. Maybe one day you would realize that being in a relationship you could openly talk about was much better.

[megalony]

You'll See Him Soon

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon. I hope you will all like it, I wrote this one so quickly. Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While (Y/n) pops by the station, her and Eddie both end up getting shot. And the team race to get them both to the hospital before they lose them.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, lunch on Tuesday?"

A grin broke out on (Y/n)'s face and she turned to the right, looking over at her big sister with a smile.

"Yep. You know we'll have to invite Buck though, right?" (Y/n) laughed at the way Maddie rolled her eyes.

They had gone out today on a girl's day while Evan, Eddie and Chimney were all on shift. That was all well and good, but it made Evan feel left out. Whenever they went out together on a girl's day, they ended up going to the movies or going out for lunch another day with Evan. The three of them were a close-knit sibling unit and Evan seemed to think girl's day should also include him.

"Hm, I know." She cast a sly grin across at (Y/n) before she looked ahead and turned the next corner.

"You can just drop me at the station, you know. Eddie will be finished by now and he said he'd give me a lift home." They were only three minutes away from the station and it saved Maddie having to go past her flat to get to (Y/n) and Eddie's place.

It meant she could just drop (Y/n) here and make the short trip home and (Y/n) would go home with Eddie. As long as he wasn't currently out on a call but even if he was, (Y/n) would just wait at the station for him.

"Don't forget to ask Eddie and Buck about getting that night off next month."

(Y/n) groaned and pressed her temple against the window at the mere mention of what was going to happen next month. She could feel a headache forming behind her eyes at the thought.

"If they don't get it off, I'll be down at the station with them." (Y/n) could hear her sister laughing, but she wasn't joking. She was being serious. If neither of the boys got that night off, (Y/n) would be joining them and hanging out at the station for the night.

There was no way (Y/n) and Maddie could get through dinner with their parents without Eddie and Evan there with them. It wasn't often that they saw their parents nowadays and that was how the three siblings liked it.

But (Y/n) knew when she told them she was pregnant, they would want to come down and see them all. She had been surprised they hadn't come down sooner, but they were finally coming down for three days next week and (Y/n) was dreading it.

"At least they're happy this time… they're excited." Leaning across the console, Maddie rested her hand on (Y/n)'s leg and gave her a little shake to make her smile.

"Yeah, after they said I wasn't old or mature enough to be Chris's mum. Now this is 'their grandchild' they've changed their tune."

(Y/n) kept her head against the cold glass that felt soothing to her skin. She dared to glance her eyes down and her expression softened when she looked at her bump. Her fingers danced over her abdomen and she started drawing aimless patterns like Eddie had started to do recently. (Y/n) didn't realise how attached to her stomach Eddie would be until she finally started to show.

Not long before she and Eddie got married last year, her parents had tried telling her- in front of Eddie- that she wasn't mature enough to be a mother to Chris. And she had seen the conflict in their eyes when Chris called her mum. They didn't see how much it meant to (Y/n) that Chris thought of her as his mother.

Because she was the youngest sibling, they thought she was somehow incompetent at doing anything.

Only now it was different because (Y/n) was the first one out of the three of them to have a child. Her parents had changed their minds because they could see (Y/n) was the happiest she had ever been with Eddie and she was settling down. They were going to be grandparents and it sparked a small change in them.

Although (Y/n) knew if they dared say anything when they came down, Eddie would blow a fuse.

"So… have you thought of any names yet? I think-"

"We are not calling her Maddie." (Y/n) shook her head and shot a glare across at her sister who was just about to turn into the station car park.

"Why not?"

"Because it's your name. It's bad enough Buck's trying to hustle in and pitch Evelyn for a name. We're not naming her after anybody."

(Y/n) had seen Eddie's eyes light up when they went to their scan two weeks ago and found out they were having a girl. She knew he had been hoping for a girl and she could already tell their daughter would have Eddie wrapped around her little finger.

But the couple were starting to regret telling people because they were all coming up with names and ideas left, right and centre. Evan had been bummed they couldn't name the baby after him, until he realised Evelyn was close to his name and kept pestering Eddie to pick that name. And even though Maddie was joking, she had pitched Madeline to them a few times.

God knows there wasn't anyone on (Y/n)'s side of the family she would want to name her daughter after- except for her big sister. But (Y/n) couldn't handle two Maddie's and getting confused and having to come up with nicknames for each of them.

And she had asked Eddie if he had anyone on his side that he thought about naming their daughter after, but he wasn't keen on the idea. They wanted something original. A name no one else in their friendship circle had.

"Fine," Maddie huffed with a roll of her eyes as she parked up and whipped off her seatbelt. She turned to the left and looked over at (Y/n) with a tender smile before she danced her fingertips across (Y/n)'s stomach. And her smile brightened when (Y/n) moved her hand down so she could feel the baby wriggling. "Well what about Dolly, because she'll be as cute as a little doll."

"I'll think about it." (Y/n) would admit that it would be sweet to call her Doll or Dolly, especially if she was small and delicate. But knowing their luck, they would agree on that name and then either their daughter wouldn't suit the name when she was born or she wouldn't be a small baby.

She gave Maddie's hand a squeeze and grinned, but just as she took off her belt and looked to the left, a pair of hands slammed against the window.

(Y/n) screamed as Maddie gasped and reeled back in her seat with a frown when they both realised it was only Eddie.

He had a wolfish grin on his lips while he crouched down to look through the window. He seemed to make it his mission to give (Y/n) a fright recently and she was sure it was because he loved to make her scream and liven up the baby.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) hissed and slammed her hand down on the window before she moved her hand to her chest, trying to regain back her breath.

Her brows furrowed into a deep frown as Eddie opened the door and when he held his hand out for her, she batted it away and climbed out. "Don't do that! Do you want me to have a heart attack?"

She gave his shoulder a shove and tried to glare at him, but it was hard when he grinned down at her with such a wide smile that his cheeks and eyes creased. And when he leaned over and wormed his arms around her waist and reeled her into his chest, (Y/n) didn't have the effort to push him away.

"No, just keepin' you on your toes, baby."

His palms pressed flush against her back and he pulled her into him until their chests were touching and (Y/n) had to hold onto his shoulders to steady herself. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes on him when his lips attached to the side of her neck "Look what you've done," She muttered quietly, reaching behind her to hold Eddie's wrist and move his hand from her back until his palm was pressed into the side of her stomach.

"She's happy to see me." He grinned against her neck and bared his teeth, lightly grazing against her neck until (Y/n) gave his shoulders a squeeze and started to squirm in his arms.

He lifted his head up so he could kiss the side of (Y/n)'s temple and his arms curved back around her. Keeping her pinned into his chest and when she curled her arms around his neck to hug him, he started to sway them both from side to side. And Eddie turned his head to the left, grinning over at Maddie as she got out the car and leaned against the door with a grin and raised brows.

"Did you two have fun?"

"We went for lunch, then we saw a movie."

They hadn't made any plans today, they had decided to have a girls day but see what they felt like doing when they went out. Both of them had been hungry, so they tried a new restaurant for lunch and then decided to go to the movies. It had been a while since they had gone out together and seen a movie and it was something they used to do every weekend when (Y/n) was younger.

"Someone had to leave the screen twice for a drink refill. Little miss lemonade with lime cordial."

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and looked up at Eddie through her lashes when he scrunched his nose in distaste and gave her an odd look.

"You don't like lime juice." That wasn't something Eddie had ever known (Y/n) to drink and it was an odd combination. And it wasn't like (Y/n) to go and get a refill drink either, she barely drank enough during the day to keep her going so it was a nice surprise to hear she kept getting another drink.

"Hm, your daughter does," Maddie chirped with a wide grin before she looked down at her watch. "Right, I'd better love you and leave you, I'll see you both at the weekend for games night. Tell Buck I said hi."

When Maddie climbed back in the car and blew a few kisses their way, they stood back and waved her off.

"Is your shift over?" (Y/n) dragged her eyes up and down Eddie's frame, only just realising that he was still in his starched navy trousers and button up shirt. Her fingers dug down into his shoulders and she tilted back a little when Eddie leaned his chest against hers and stole a deep kiss from her lips.

"Hm, just gotta get changed, then we can go home." He could see that was music to (Y/n)'s ears.

Sitting down in a movie theatre was all well and good, but (Y/n) was starting to feel tired already and she hadn't done that much today. She wanted to go home, make tea and slump on the sofa with her boys.

"So, was the movie any good?" Eddie curved his left arm around (Y/n)'s waist to keep her tucked up into his side as they walked round to the front of the station. He stuffed his other hand into his pocket and pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head when she leaned her cheek against his shoulder.

"Yeah, but I missed the ending queuing for the toilet." In all honesty (Y/n) had missed a few crutial parts of the film when she went to go get another drink, twice. And then she had to hurry out twice for the toilet and the queue had been horrendous at the end. It was lucky she was only five months along with the baby or she wasn't sure she would of been able to wait as long as she did for the queue to go down.

She could feel Eddie laughing into her hair as both their steps came to a halt when they noticed Hen, Chimney and Evan all gathered in a little circle just outside the station doors.

"What kind of meeting is this?" (Y/n) quipped with a grin and she leaned over when Evan looped his arm around her shoulders and reeled her under his wing for a hug.

"Shift change-over. Me and your hubby are leaving, these two are staying for the next four hours." Hen hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and smiled triumphantly as if she had just won a game.

They were all out here because the trucks were being restocked and the ambulance was out on a call. It was quieter out here than inside where everyone was hustling and bustling to stock up and clatter and change over. And Hen was getting ready to leave whereas Chimney and Evan were taking a breather before they went back in for the rest of their shifts.

"So, how's Evelyn?"

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and unhooked her brother's arm from her shoulders before she crossed her arms over her chest. But she smiled when Eddie reached behind her to give Evan a light shove.

"I've told you, we're not naming her after you." He gave Evan a pointed look before he moved his hands to his hips and leaned his head to one side. It didn't matter how many times Evan tried or how much he pestered. Eddie's first daughter was not going to be named after his brother-in-law.

(Y/n) leaned into Eddie's left side, trying to hide her grin when Chimney started to laugh.

"Debatable." Evan remarked with narrowed eyes before he looked back down at his little sister. He wasn't giving up just yet; he could pester them for a lot longer to see if they would give in and go along with the name he had chosen. "So, how is she?"

"She's fine."

"So, are you two-"

Whatever Hen was about to say tapered off when a sharp, shrill noise cut through the air and shifted the atmosphere around them.

A gunshot.

Nobody knew where it came from. They didn't know who fired, where they were standing, what kind of shot it was that was directed at them. Or who the shot was aimed for.

Terror dug its claws into (Y/n)'s chest and ripped out her lungs when her head turned to the right.

It was Eddie. Eddie was the one who got shot. She didn't see the bullet hit him, but (Y/n) knew the moment he had been hurt; his left hand clawed into her back and made her wince. She knew by the way his fingertips punctured into her hip and how his hand fisted her flesh like he was trying to tear a chunk off that the pain hit him instantly.

She didn't see the shot, it happened far too quick to see the bullet fly through the air or see it hit her husband. But when Eddie's shirt around his right shoulder started to turn berry-red, it ignited (Y/n)'s heart until she was matching the pulse rate of a hummingbird.

Her hands grappled for Eddie, holding his back and scrunching her other hand up in his shirt over his chest to try and keep him upright, but she couldn't.

His name passed her lips like a whisper in the wind and when Eddie's lips parted, (Y/n) could hear the quiet breath he huffed.

There was no expression on his face, his eyes weren't in focus, they were dazed and staring ahead into the distance. His lips parted but he wasn't saying anything and he was barely breathing. It was like someone had refreshed his system and he was completely blank.

But he couldn't stay upright. It felt like hours had passed when barely a second ticked by from the bullet entering his shoulder to Eddie's body tilting backwards.

"Eddie-" (Y/n) curled her hands into fists around his shirt but she couldn't hold him up. He fell too swiftly and with too much weight for (Y/n) to try and keep him on his feet. Her body shuddered and she winced when his fingers stayed puncturing into her back where she knew she would have bruises later.

He crashed down on his back on the pavement, his head bouncing against the concrete slabs harsh enough that it should have cracked his head open.

(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed on instinct when she started to fall with him but a scream burned at the back of her throat when it felt like the back of her right thigh had suddenly been torn apart or bitten by a rabid dog.

Her knees crashed into the floor and her hands shook against Eddie's chest as she landed with a crash so forceful it sent all the blood down to her legs and her head started to spin. Black and white spots danced in front of her eyes and she let her head bash down into Eddie's chest, gasping to try and keep herself awake and alert, but everything was on fire.

(Y/n) could feel every pounding beat her heart thrashed out. She could feel her heartbeat beneath every inch of her skin and her pulse throbbing in her ears. She felt like her head was going to explode. Bells were ringing in her ears along with her heartbeat. Hot coals surrounded her body that felt like it was melting and scorching hot.

Her knees were aching- her right thigh felt like it had been shredded to ribbons.

"Eddie… Eddie, baby," Words dripped past (Y/n)'s lips but she barely heard her own voice.

She tried to focus herself and move but everything began to shake. Her hands were trembling up and down like she was doing some odd kind of dance but she managed to cradle Eddie's face between her trembling palms. Her thumbs swiped across his face and she tried to tilt his head in her direction.

His eyes were still open but they weren't focusing properly, he was looking through (Y/n) rather than at her. But he was awake. (Y/n) needed him to stay awake.

It was only then that (Y/n) managed to get her ears into focus and she realised she could hear voices around them. She remembered it wasn't just her and Eddie in this situation. Her brother and their team were here too.

"Cap we've got a shooter!"

"Get inside-"

"Eddie's been hit!"

"Get inside- get them inside now."

Hands grappled with (Y/n)'s shoulders and a quiet "No," tumbled past her lips when she felt a chest pressing down into her back and whoever it was nudged her to the side.

She wasn't sure who was holding her back but she began to cry. She had to stay with Eddie. Why weren't they letting her hold Eddie? She had to make sure he was okay and somehow get him inside. (Y/n) had to stay with him; they couldn't try and tear them apart like this.

His name tore past (Y/n)'s lips again and her hands tried to latch around her brother's bicep when Evan crouched in between her and Eddie.

He was working on overdrive. Evan could barely move from the amount of adrenaline that was shooting through his system and it made him feel sick. His thighs burned from how he was crouched, balancing on the heel of his boots while his trembling arms grabbed his brother in law. He looped Eddie's arm around the back of his neck and dug his fingers into Eddie's good shoulder like tallons.

His left hand grabbed Eddie's hip and with some effort, Evan hoisted his brother up onto his shoulder.

"Go!" He all but roared, waving his arm out for Hen and Chimney to get inside with (Y/n). He needed his sister inside with them. She had been hurt too and Evan wasn't sure where she had been hit. He could see the blood soaking down both her legs and pooling on the floor and he dreaded to think where it was coming from.

His legs shook as he bolted through the open doors, trying to stay hunkered down low so he and Eddie were less of a target for anymore bullets. But he heard another gunshot ricochet against the shutters and it made Evan cower.

Why was someone shooting at them? What had they done? They were emergency responders, they saved lives, they didn't take them. There was no reason for someone to be taking revenge out on them.

Why had they shot Evan's family?

"Eddie-" (Y/n) felt a pair of hands on each of her arms and she let them lift her up but as soon as she was on her feet, she screamed.

A banshee howl left her lips and she coiled her right leg up off the floor. Standing on both feet felt like a knife was slicing down from her hip to her toes. Someone was cutting her in two. Someone had taken her husband away from her. She needed to get him back.

Her foot bent at an awkward angle beneath her and she tried to hop on her left foot, dragging her right leg behind her like it was a third, useless limb she didn't need. Her head flopped forward, gluing her eyes to the floor that was littered with tiny flecks of blood like someone had walked by eating strawberries.

Her hands dug into Chimney's arm and shoulder and if she had the energy, (Y/n) would have tried to tell him she could walk. She would of tried to hold herself up if she wasn't drowning in panic.

She barely felt Hen run past her to open the truck doors.

Hen climbed in the back of the truck. Bobby climbed in the driver's seat. Evan and Chimney dragged their family towards the truck. It was their only mode of transport to get out of here and make their way down to the hospital when the ambulance was already out on a call and was far too small to transport them all.

(Y/n) could hear Bobby shouting orders, but his voice sounded quiet and distant like he was shouting from the other side of a lake.

"Lockdown the station when we leave! Nobody in, nobody out!"

A groan rumbled through Eddie's chest and vibrated against the back of his throat when he felt himself suddenly being tilted backwards.

He could barely comprehend why he was suddenly being lifted up by Evan or where he was being taken. The view of the station was blurred. Everything looked like a watercolour painting but the paints were too runny and blending together. Eddie couldn't make sense of anything.

His lungs stuttered and clenched when he was hoisted off of Evan's shoulder and he was held up on his feet by someone behind him and Evan in front of him, gripping his wrists so tightly he was going to snap them.

Evan climbed up the steps, leaning backwards to keep Eddie's weight and keep him stood up. And when he was up, Evan carefully twisted Eddie to the left and laid him down over the seats. He could see the movement sent Eddie's whole body convulsing and he gasped for breath at the feeling of his shoulder coming into contact with the chairs.

"Okay come here; I gotcha." Spinning on his heels, Evan reached his hands down and held onto (Y/n)'s forearms while Chimney stood behind her. She was much easier to manouevre than Eddie, she was alert and responsive and somewhat helpful.

Her nails scratched into Evan's forearms and a choked sound rumbled past her lips when he pulled her up. When her foot caught on the top step, waves of electricity flowed through (Y/n)'s leg and spots danced in front of her eyes as her head fell forward into her brother's shoulder.

"Cap, go, go!" Hen bashed her fist on the roof before the truck came to life and they all jostled forward as Bobby shifted into gear.

(Y/n) thrashed her arms out until her hands planted down on the seats and she let her weight fall down until she was on her knees in the footwell. She stretched her right leg out behind her, trying to ignore the throbbing pain that felt like her whole leg was vibrating with her heartbeat.

It was as if her leg was hanging on by a thread that was about to snap. (Y/n) wished it would. If that thread tore, it might take away the pain. She just wanted it to stop so she could focus on Eddie. He was her priority.

Her chin pressed down on Eddie's good shoulder and her trembling hands clutched his shirt so tightly she popped the first three buttons open.

Her head was pounding. Her eyes couldn't see anything more than Eddie, blurs and stars twinkled all around him like he was an angel or a vision from Heaven. She leaned closer to him when Evan hovered beside her. Evan held onto the headrest to hold himself up while he leaned over Eddie's chest and pressed a large pack of gauze down on the bullet wound.

He winced when Eddie coughed and groaned and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Eddie's head lifted up when pressure pushed down on his shoulder and felt like a hand was physically breaking through the muscle to touch the most sensitive nerves around his bone.

The pressure set something off inside Eddie's body; an extra dose of adrenaline coursed through him and made him a little more alert.

"Are you hurt?" Eddie's voice was gruff as he grunted and managed to flop his head to the left to look over at (Y/n).

He blinked slowly and tried to prize his eyes open wide so he could look her up and down but his vision was going blurry. He was glad his good arm was closest to (Y/n). He flopped his arm off the chair and slumped his hand onto her arm so he could trail his tremoring fingertips over her body.

She had blood smears on her shirt, but he couldn't find an entry wound. She had blood on her face but he couldn't see any cuts. Her breaths were shallow and her body was trembling but Eddie didn't know where she had been hurt.

His fingertips moved down until his hand touched her abdomen and he kept his unfocused eyes on (Y/n) to watch any change in her expression. He moved his hand from left to right, becoming more frantic with each second when she didn't say anything and no one told him if she was hurt or not.

"S-she okay?" Eddie tipped his head back into the seat and coughed when Evan applied more pressure. He was going to bust his shoulder if he pressed down any more than this.

But he tried to look back at (Y/n) when he realised she was only clutching his shirt with one hand. He felt her other hand hold his wrist and press his hand down on her stomach to make him stop checking frantically.

"She's okay."

(Y/n) did her best to smile, despite the tears that were pouring down her face and each breath she took which hitched higher and higher than the last.

Her eyes stayed focused on Eddie, but when she felt Hen applying pressure to the wound on the back of her right leg, (Y/n) couldn't help but cry out. A scream cut past her lips and her eyes snapped closed as she smothered her face down against Eddie's shoulder to try and stay awake when it felt like she was going to pass out.

"Where's she hurt?" Evan took the words right out of Eddie's mouth while he leaned over to try and look his sister up and down. He had seen her fall and heard her cry out, but he didn't see a bullet hit her. Evan had to assume she was hit from the pain she was in and the way she was starting to deteriorate the same as Eddie.

"Right thigh, just above her knee. Someone give me their belt, I need to stop the bleeding."

Chimney leaned back on his heels and yanked his belt free from his trouser loops and handed it over. He moved his hands to (Y/n)'s shoulders and tried to comfort her and keep her still as he moved to press his fingers against her neck to check her pulse.

Another scream mixed with a tepid cry coursed through the air when the belt sank into (Y/n)'s leg like teeth chomping down on her flesh. She could feel her leg and her foot pulsing and throbbing and vibrating like she was a boombox screaming out a beat.

But when (Y/n) lifted her head from Eddie's shoulder, she could see his eyes rolling near the back of his head and his breaths started to pick up and become fast and shallow.

"Just hang in there, two minutes, okay? Stay with us, Eddie." Evan gave Eddie's neck a jostle and tilted his head from side to side to try and keep him conscious. He couldn't fall asleep on them, he had to stay awake and conscious until they got him to the hospital. Why couldn't he stay awake like (Y/n)? He needed to stay alert with them.

"You're gonna be okay, baby." (Y/n) couldn't keep her voice level and she hiccupped through her words as she tried to push closer into the chairs to be next to Eddie.

She swiped her eyes and nose against her sleeve but she could feel her head filling up with air like a balloon. She wanted to go to sleep. She wanted everything to stop. She wanted Eddie to wake up properly and be okay. (Y/n) wanted to rewind time and usher them all inside so nobody got hurt.

Why did it have to be Eddie?

Her hand moved to cup the side of his face and she swiped her thumb across his jaw while her other hand dragged through his hair, brushing the curls away from his eyes. She knew he loved it when she carded her fingers through his hair. Maybe this would keep him awake with her.

"We're here! Eddie, come on let's go. Don't you fall asleep on me."

Eddie's head tilted back and he choked, barely able to breathe when he found himself laid back over Evan's shoulder once again. His left hand tried to reach out, but Evan was moving too fast for Eddie to comprehend. He could taste (Y/n)'s name on his lips and feel the way his nerves tingled when he tried to say her name, but it didn't make a difference. He couldn't see her anymore.

Bobby pressed his hand to the back of Eddie's neck and helped Evan carefully lower him down onto the stretcher that was already waiting for them to arrive. Two nurses and a doctor smothered Eddie with an oxygen mask and a pulse monitor on his finger before they began to move him.

A frown pulled on Evan's lips when Eddie gripped his wrist weakly and gave a sharp tug. "What? What?"

Evan tried to move with him but they moved Eddie too fast and his grip wasn't strong enough to pull Evan along with them. But he heard that one word that spluttered past Eddie's lips.

"(Y/n)."

Leaning down, Hen curled her arms around (Y/n) and pulled her back when she tried to crawl forwards after Eddie. Shallow, gasping breaths left (Y/n)'s lips and her hands scratched against the metal floor as she tried to drag herself to the door.

"Eddie-"

"He's with a doctor, which is where we need to take you. He'll be okay, you're both gonna be okay." Chimney reached down for (Y/n)'s left arm and looped it around the back of his neck before he carefully stood up and the pair of them lifted (Y/n) up between them.

Each gasping, startling cry she let out made them wince and they could feel her shaking back and forth between them like she was hypothermic.

Chimney slowly climbed down the steps but he paused when Evan appeared in front of them like an omen. He held his arms out and reached up for (Y/n), taking her weight for her to help her down from the truck.

"We need another stretcher over here! Pregnant lady with a gunshot wound!"

Both (Y/n)'s hands moved to grip Evan's biceps and she tried tilting her head back to look up at him but it only made spots flash in front of her eyes. She could feel her knees buckling and giving in and she was sure she would be laid out on the floor at any given moment.

"Eddie… I w- wh- where's Eddie?"

"It's okay, you'll see him soon. Let's g-"

That was all she needed to hear. Those words acted as a switch in (Y/n)'s brain and everything started to shut down.

Panic sparked through Evan's body like a wildfire when (Y/n)'s head slumped onto his arm and her body went down. He deadlocked his arms around her waist and lifted her up, pinning her chest against his to stop her from hitting the floor while they waited for another stretcher to be rushed over to them.

Evan leaned down and looped his right arm beneath (Y/n)'s legs, cringing and gagging when he felt the blood instantly soak onto his skin and drip down between his fingers.

Oh God.

***

I'm not staying here.

With that thought in mind, (Y/n) tiredly looked around the room she was in and pursed her lips.

She didn't want to be here.

She didn't want to stay here on her own.

The only reason (Y/n) had managed to stay here last night was because she had been dosed up on morphine which knocked her off her senses. She had become coherent enough this morning to realise she was in the hospital.

She was in a small room on her own. Eddie wasn't here. He was somewhere on this floor, in this ward, but he wasn't here. (Y/n) couldn't sleep on her own. She couldn't stand being anywhere on her own and right now, she was alone at night. Evan and Maddie had visited her and stayed with her until the nurses told them they had to leave and come back in the morning.

None of the nurses listened when Maddie told them (Y/n) was liable to try and leave. They thought she was too hyped up on morphine to try and leave, but that was what she was going to do.

Everyone who had been to visit her today had told her Eddie was okay. He had recovered from surgery, his shoulder joint hadn't been hit by the sniper, it was just the muscle that got damaged. Eddie was awake and on the same pain meds as she was and (Y/n) knew Chris was safe at home. And Evan was staying at their house so Chris didn't have to leave the comfort of home so he would feel better without his parents there.

Her hands moved to her face and she brushed away the tears she had been shedding for the last half an hour. All (Y/n) had done since her siblings left was cry. She hated being alone. She couldn't sleep alone at night. The only reason she slept at home when Eddie was on a night shift was knowing that Chris was in the next room.

"I want Eddie."

If she didn't see him, she was going to go insane.

All (Y/n) could see when she closed her eyes was the image of Eddie on the floor with a mixture of their combined blood mingling together against the concrete. How would she know if he was truly okay if she didn't see him with her own eyes?

How did she know her friends and family weren't just lying to her to keep her calm?

Sitting herself up, (Y/n) looked down at the IV line capped into her left hand as she took deep breaths to stop herself from crying. With minimal effort, she paused the IV machine and twisted the cap until it disconnected from the needle in her wrist. She could easily reattach it whenever she decided to come back to this room later.

It took some effort for her to swing her legs over the side of the bed and (Y/n) grimaced at the hospital gown she was wearing.

Maddie promised to bring her and Eddie some of their own clothes tomorrow when she came down to visit them.

The moment her feet touched the floor, (Y/n) grimaced. The morphine didn't take all the pain away. Granted, it had done yesterday, but recovering from the anaesthetic probably helped numb everything else.

When she was up on her feet, (Y/n) stretched both arms out and hobbled over to the wall. She planted her hands down on the wall, lifted her right leg until her toes barely scraped the floor, and started to hop. It was a lot of effort and her stomach churned and twisted, but she had to persevere.

She had to find Eddie.

More tears stained her face as she quietly opened the door and hobbled out. It felt like she was a cripple with only one leg. Her right leg was practically useless in this state anyway and the nurses hadn't found her a walker or any crutches yet. They were supposed to be trying to get (Y/n) up and out of bed tomorrow, but she needed to move around now so she could find her husband.

(Y/n) crossed to the other side of the corridor so she was leaning on the wall on her right. Her shoulder and arm pinned into the wall as if she was about to slouch down to the floor and she hopped and shuffled along, trying not to make a sound so no one noticed. She could always say she was going to the bathroom if anyone asked.

Her eyes squinted in the dim light to read the names written in whiteboard marker outside each room.

She scanned along them and passed about five different rooms until her heart jumped into her throat and her eyes locked on a familiar name.

Diaz.

Here he was. She'd found him.

Her teeth sank down in her lower lip as she dragged her limp, useless leg behind her and crossed to the room opposite. She was relieved Eddie wasn't on a ward. It wouldn't do her any favours to be sneaking into the men's ward in the middle of the night when she didn't know who else would be in there.

She opened the door as quietly as she could and peeked her head round. (Y/n) wasn't sure what she thought she was going to see. Maybe she thought Eddie would somehow get visitors to stay through the night with him whereas she wouldn't. Or maybe she thought he wouldn't actually be in here, that this was a mistake and something had happened to him like she dreaded.

But when she hobbled over the threshold and looked ahead, her stomach started to flutter with adrenaline and she scratched her hand across her neck to remind herself to breathe.

There he was. He didn't look comfy. It wasn't like Eddie to sleep on his back, it wasn't something he did. When they were at home (Y/n) was used to him laying in funny positions with one leg hanging off the bed or she would wake in the morning to have him wrapped around her like a second blanket.

But here Eddie was, laid uncomfortably on his back with his right arm pinned to his chest in a sling. He had pushed the cover down so it barely covered his knees and he had his good arm flopped above his head on the pillow.

(Y/n) knew he was a light sleeper so she turned and shut the door with a little pressure to wake him rather than stand beside him and frighten him awake.

His head snapped forward within a second and he groaned, clicking his neck from left to right while his eyes adjusted to the dim light seeping in from the corridor.

"Baby?" Eddie's voice was gruff and deep. He lifted his arm from the pillow and dragged his hand across his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Before he moved to look at his left arm. He wasn't connected to an IV; they took him off it just before he went to sleep and said they would start him on another one in the morning.

He wasn't dosed on morphine anymore, conjuring up the image of his wife in front of him to make himself feel better. So why was she here? She should be back in her own room. Resting. Safe and sound until one of the nurses finally listened to Eddie's beligerent badgering about taking him down to see his wife.

"Baby… what are you doing?"

He pushed himself up so he was sitting up in bed, rubbing at his stiff neck before he squinted at her through his lashes. He watched her drag her fingers across her neck and over her chest; something he recognised as a nervous habit.

When she tried to step forward, she noted the way Eddie took a sharp breath. She could barely walk. She was limping and she had to reach out and grab the bed frame to hold herself up.

"I got lonely," (Y/n)'s voice was meek and timid but she tried to smile. She didn't want to be in that room on her own any longer. Why couldn't she be in the same room as Eddie? They were both patients with similar injuries. And they were both more liable to stay and listen to the doctor's orders if they were together and comfortable instead of separated and panicked.

She watched Eddie's eyes rake up and down her frame, but it was the way his lips pulled into a deep frown and his eyes narrowed on her that made (Y/n) shrink in on herself and wince.

"Jesus baby, you shouldn't be walking about! You could hurt yourself, you know that?"

"I can't sleep on my own." She tried to keep her tone light and force herself to smile, but Eddie's stern expression and his demanding voice made her stomach twist.

"You could tear your stitches or burst a blood vessel if you're not careful. Baby you can't-"

"I'm scared."

A tremor rattled through Eddie's chest and caused a sharp pain to strike his heart when he realised (Y/n)'s eyes were watering. He could feel his lungs shrivelling up in his chest and his shoulders sagged, despite the pain it caused.

She didn't want to be on her own. Not when being apart from Eddie meant she had nightmares that he didn't get here in time. She had to see him, touch him, be with him to convince herself that he was okay. Being on her own left her mind free to torment her. To see Eddie drop down in a pool of blood. To feel her leg ache and pound like it was going to fall off. To have her hands cradling her stomach, fretting that she was going to lose their baby.

It was too scary to be alone. (Y/n) wanted company; she wanted Eddie.

(Y/n) was torn between wanting to run forward and wanting to leave if Eddie was going to be mad with her. But her watering eyes widened when Eddie threw the cover to one side and waved his good hand towards her.

"Get in here."

As soon as she was within reach, Eddie curled his good arm around (Y/n)'s waist and helped her ease down onto the bed. He laid down and pulled her with him, suddenly feeling his own sense of peace when they laid down together. This was why he couldn't settle early in the morning when the drugs wore off. This was why Eddie felt uncomfortable all day and got irritable when any visitor walked through the door. They weren't (Y/n). He wasn't whole without her.

He turned his head to the left and smothered his nose and lips against the top of her head, breathing in her scent like it was the most addictive drug in the hospital.

He felt her head snuggle down into his chest and she bound her arm around his torso, clinging to him like someone was suddenly going to walk in and tear her out of his arms. He wouldn't let them. He wouldn't let anyone take her away from him; especially not if she was frightened.

"Do you feel okay? All I got off Buck was 'she's fine, she's fine' and that didn't really wash well with me."

They had run Eddie through what had happened and told him where (Y/n) had been shot because he remembered she was hurt, but he didn't remember where. It was a relief to know the bullet went in her leg. Any higher and it could have hit a vital organ. Any higher and it would have hit the baby.

But no one would tell Eddie much because at first he wasn't lucid enough and then he tried to leave the room when he wasn't allowed. He was promised he could see her tomorrow, but holding her tonight was so much better.

"Just achy… my thigh stings a bit, but it's okay. How about you?" (Y/n) tilted her head up and nuzzled her face into Eddie's neck so she could be closer to him.

Her lips attached to his neck and she pressed a tender kiss there just beneath the stubble that was starting to grow in.

"It's familiar, being used to it helps. And it didn't hit the bone, thank God." It was strange to think that he was used to the feeling of being shot. Eddie didn't think it was a feeling he would ever have to have again after he left the army.

But having some experience with this feeling definitely helped. He knew how to avoid the pain and how to push through it, and he thanked God that his shoulder joint had been missed. He couldn't be dealing with more operations or physio and time off work to try and patch it back together. And he had to recover so he could hold his baby girl without a struggle when she arrived.

With that thought in mind, Eddie carefully slid his hand over from (Y/n)'s hip until his fingers grazed along her stomach. His touch was light and delicate at first, but when (Y/n) didn't wince or groan or pull away, he pressed his palm down over her gown so he could cup her stomach.

"How's she doing?"

"Her heartbeat settled down this afternoon after the shock wore off… I haven't lost any fluid, and she keeps kicking me. They think she's gonna be fine."

Maddie had made her smile when she said (Y/n) was now special. Rather than bi-weekly checks, for the past two days (Y/n) had been getting almost hourly checks on the baby. When her heartbeat evened out this afternoon, they made a note of it.

Since the placenta and baby were still in place and her vitals were fine and (Y/n) hadn't lost any fluid, they were confident the baby was going to be just fine. But (Y/n) could still have checks throughout the day until she left, and she would be on close monitoring when she was discharged.

"Good, you had me worried."

"Me? What about you, you scared me Eddie. I thought- I thought…" (Y/n) knew exactly what she thought, but she didn't have the willpower to voice it.

She didn't want to say it outloud. It was hard enough to admit to herself that she thought Eddie wasn't going to make it to the hospital. The thought of having to go through life without Eddie wasn't something (Y/n) could contemplate.

She couldn't bring up Chris on her own. She couldn't go through labour and have this baby without him. (Y/n) couldn't do any of that without Eddie by her side.

Her lips rolled together tightly to stop herself from crying and she smothered her face in the side of his neck when his arm tightened around her waist. She could feel his fingers feathering up and down her stomach and he tilted his head to the side so he could kiss the top of her head.

"It's gonna take more than a bullet to take me away from you."

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)

Summary: . . . You and your kids wake Eddie up with a surprise for Father's Day. warnings: fluff and Eddie being down bad for Reader 🤭, implications of baby making.

word count: 2k

more dad!eddie here

“'Shhh', mama?” Your four year old asked as she trailed behind you in the hallway.

  “Yeah, we have to be quiet so you can wake daddy up with a surprise.” You were trying not to make too much noise with the flowers, wrapped in apparently the world’s loudest brown paper, hitching your nine-month old up higher on your hip.

  Thank goodness neither of your kids were in a fussy mood, especially considering you’d gotten them up early after the terrible night before. Wayne had a new tooth coming in, he was absolutely miserable and your poor baby made sure to let everyone know. He’d been wailing most of the night and Eddie took it upon himself to soothe him, rubbing some baby friendly orajel along his gums, massaging them with fingers dipped in cool water, and offering frozen teething rings and plenty of comfort in the form of nonstop cuddles.

  He hadn’t joined you in bed until the early hours of the morning, which worked out perfectly. Eddie had been dead asleep when you got up, squishing a pillow you’d planted in place of yourself to his chest.

  Next came getting the kids ready, which was also surprisingly easy. Penny was pliant with sleep, letting you dress her without whining (she kept trying to lean forward so she could rest on you and go back to sleep—it was the cutest thing) and your baby was still soothed by Eddie’s remedies, letting out content coos as you changed his diaper and also got him ready.

  After a quick trip to a music store downtown (and by quick you meant 45 minutes, Penny took delicate care in picking out another final gift for her daddy and told you not to rush her every time you’d ask her to hurry) and a stop at the flower shop, you arrived back home and it looked like Eddie still hadn’t stirred, which gave you time to make breakfast.

  You’d sat Waynie in his high chair, gave him some cut up pieces of banana to gnaw on—which he did so as aggressively as possible—and went about making pancakes, eggs and bacon (which Eddie liked to devour until he felt ill).

  Penny was of course your little helper, sitting on your lap while you assisted her with whisking the eggs in a bowl for Waynie’s scrambled eggs, and then perched on your hip to help you flip the pancakes. She’d insisted that Eddie’s pancakes all be heart shaped and you loved the idea, so after a couple of failed ones that would be on your plate, you eventually got it down and she wrapped her arms tightly around you in a hug for it.

  Once breakfast was plated and the table was set, you gathered Wayne and the flowers while Penny carried Eddie’s decoy gift towards your bedroom.

  Quietly, you opened the door and peaked in, smiling  at Eddie’s sleeping form.

  “Okay, let’s go wake him up. Shh.” You propped the door open for Penny to slip in before you and she grinned up at you, using her free hand to hold her finger to her lips, she’d be quiet.

  She set the rectangular box on the end of the bed and then climbed on top while you sat Wayne down on the bed.

  He was just starting to crawl, so he very shakily made his way towards Eddie—face planting quite a few times but it didn’t deter your baby.

  Penny looked back at you for confirmation and you nodded in encouragement. That was all the permission she needed.

  “Daddy! Daddy, wake up! It’s daddy’s day! Wakey, wakey!” 

  She poked and prodded at his side when he groaned and shifted onto his back, eyes squinting open. That wasn’t good enough for her, she moved to sit on him and Wayne finally reached him, using his dad’s shoulder to prop himself up enough to sit back on his bum while he let out a happy shriek, chunky little palms slapping eagerly at his dad’s face to do the trick.

  Eddie made a face, nose scrunching up but you could see the smile curling on his lips, dimples appearing.

  “Okay, okay! I’m awake! Stop the assault!” 

  Penny laughed as he sat up, which almost sent her sprawling on the bed but she caught herself on his leg. Eddie tutted, that wouldn’t do.

  Eddie reached out and pushed her off of him and she laughed hysterically as she bounced against the mattress which made the two of you chuckle. For some reason your daughter loved to rough house with him. 

  Penny didn’t stay down for long, quickly crawling back up to lay down along the side of his pillow and Eddie turned his head to look at her after he’d gathered Wayne and sat him on his chest.

  “Happy Fodder’s Day, daddy. You aw the best daddy in the whole wide everywhere.” She whispered to him, very seriously, and he leaned in to give her a smacking kiss on the nose.

  “Thank you, baby.” His voice was raspy but you could detect the emotion under it. Eddie was so gonna choke up.

  “You wanna give him his present?” You prompted her, and Eddie’s head darted in your direction, grin widening at the sight of you in his favorite dress.

  “Oh, yeah!” Penny scurried to the end of the bed and knee-crawled back to Eddie, hands outstretched to offer him the rectangular box.

  “What’s this?” He asked, tucking Wayne into his side so he could grab the box.

  “You gots to open it, daddy.” Penny demanded, eagerly leaning in to stare at the box while he did.

  “Sorry,” you both traded looks of amusement before he took off the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal a new guitar strap; black and decorated with crossbone skulls. “This is for me?”

  “Yeah!” Penny nodded her head ecstatically. “Mommy lemme pickeded it out!”

  “Thank you so much, little pretty one.” Eddie moved his hand to the back of his daughter’s curly little head to bring it in so he could press a kiss to her forehead, then he turned to the baby at his side. “And you, too!”

  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the sweet smelling curls on his baby’s head. In return, Waynie started gnawing on his arm.

  You sat on the side of the bed and pulled him away from Eddie’s arm. Your son looked at you, affronted,  like you’d committed the ultimate crime until you held a pacifier to his lips. He eagerly gobbled it up and relaxed back against Eddie, once more content as he suckled.

  “Penny, do you wanna go get the other thing?”

  “Wha─?” She looked at you, confused for only a moment before her big brown eyes lit up. “YES, YES, YES!”

  Penny quickly climbed off the bed and ran to her room, where you’d hidden it.

  “What are you up to, trouble?” Eddie asked and you turned your head away from the doorway to find him looking at you, sleepy eyes clouded with love and affection as he reached a hand out to stroke along your exposed thigh.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

  “You’re trying to make me cry again, aren’t you?”

  “Not me, no way. No how.” 

  “I GOS IT, MOMMY!” Penny ran back in, chin raised to peak over the box she carried. It wasn’t too heavy for her, just big.

  She brought it over to you and you handed it to Eddie before pulling her up onto your lap as you watched him unbox it.

  “I wonder what it could b—.” Eddie’s mouth parted just slightly as he pulled a small amp from the box. It wasn’t just any amp. It was an amp you’d sneakily picked up from the music store last week—he had a ton of amps sprawled around the apartment but Eddie’s favorite portable one had recently gone out on him. 

  The amp itself would have been a fantastic gift alone, but you’d taken a few extra steps to personalize it for him. You’d painted the black amp with a solid red background and then let Penny and Wayne paint whatever they wanted on it. 

  Penny had gone all out, making sure to paint her family holding hands on it, along with plenty of depictions of her dad, one of which was him wearing a cape because he was her hero and since Wayne was too little to use a paintbrush, his little hand and foot prints were on it. 

  On one of the sides was your initials (last name replaced with an ‘M’ to represent the Munson name you’d taken on when you’d married him) + EM 4Ever, tucked into a heart with Cupid’s bow shot through it. 

  “SUPISE! D’ya like it, daddy? I drews on it, and it got Waynie’s feets and hans.” Penny looked so proud of herself, smile nearly taking up her entire face.

  Eddie sniffled and you hid your grin in Penny’s hair. You got him.

  He licked his lips and cleared his throat to try and keep himself together but you could see the shine in his eyes when he raised them.

  “I love it so much, baby girl.” He choked out, holding Wayne a little tighter to his side.

  “You wanna give daddy a hug?” You whispered into her ear and she crawled off your lap to throw herself at Eddie, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

  Eddie was careful to make sure Penny didn’t squish Wayne as he held her to his chest, eyes squeezing shut and his freehand cradling the back of her head.

  “I luh you, daddy.” Penny mumbled, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

  “I love you, pretty Penny.” He pressed a multitude of kisses to her curls as he basked in the moment before his eyes shot open and over to you. “What are you doing all the way over there? Get over here and give me some love.”

  You affectionately rolled your eyes before you complied, lifting Wayne out of his arms and into yours to take his place tucked into Eddie’s side. Eddie demanded kisses the moment you were near, and because you loved him, you ignored his god awful morning breath and let him have his way.

  His lips remained pressed to your temple, an arm slipped around your waist so he could lift the skirt of your dress, fingers tracing the words I love you along your thigh as Penny explained all her paintings in great, excessive detail.

  Later, when you were all at the table eating the breakfast you and Penny had made, Eddie could barely get a bite in without staring at you. Wayne was in your arms, face pressed against your breast as he nursed (always did it before he ate solids), while Penny babbled to you about how fun cooking with you had been and how yummy it was as you helped her scoop up her food on her little fork.

  Eddie knew Father’s Day was a day meant to celebrate him and essentially all the other fathers of the world, but he’d much rather appreciate you. You’d given him Penny and Wayne; his sweet (usually) little girl and his baby boy. Without you, he wouldn’t be able to be a part of this day, really.

  Eventually, you felt the weight of his stare and looked up at him, gaze inquisitive.

  “What?” 

  He just huffed out a gentle laugh, brown eyes warm and making a certain feeling stir in your belly, “Nothing. Thank you. For them.”

  Eddie nods towards Wayne and Penny.

  “Well, you definitely played a part in getting them here.” You mused, reaching a hand out to stroke over Penny’s curls. 

  Sure, you made them but it wouldn’t have been possible had Eddie not finished inside of you on a regular basis. 

  When you looked back at him, Eddie was smirking, his eyes were heavily lidded and darkening–his bedroom eyes. The warmth in them was simmering into something much more intense as he leered at you with absolutely no shame. Lustful.

  You could feel yourself heating up, bashful nature hitting you full force as he nearly ate you alive with his gaze alone. You knew what was coming next, what he was about to say.

  “Wanna make another one during nap time?”

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #2

CH.2 Ice Box | The Menu [4.1K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

The first week at Jim’s went somewhat smoothly. 

You figured out a bus that would take you out of town and to the diner when it was raining or too dark, a rusty old thing that rattled the entire journey but it meant you got there a few minutes before your shift started. The summer was still present, a growing thing that became hotter and bigger as June turned to July, the sidewalks baking, the skies an endless blue between storms that you didn’t really mind. 

You got to meet the rest of the team that first morning, bumping into a girl as you made your way through the side door meant for staff. Robin was another waitress, a little blunt, really pretty and more than helpful. She took over immediately, waving away your explanation of having to report to Eddie, leading you into a back office that was crammed with a desk and a line of lockers. It took a while for her to find a key to one in a security box but eventually you had a locker, a name badge and a uniform that Robin promised was the cleanest one she could find. 

It was a powder blue thing with red trim, a little on the short side for a dress and it had you pulling at the hem until it covered your thighs more. The collar was white, starchy, the apron that tied around your waist matching. Robin grinned when you reappeared with it on, straightening your name badge for you before handing you a new pad and pen. 

“C’mon,” she tilted her head towards the kitchen, the smell of coffee and maple already pouring out of it. “I’ll introduce you to everyone else.”

There was Nancy, another waitress who helped Jim manage the diner’s taxes when she wasn’t back at college in Indianapolis. She seemed sweet, a little quieter than Robin, more eager to keep her head down and garner the best tips. 

Argyle was the boy you’d seen in the kitchen the day before, a smiling boy with the sleekest hair you’d ever seen. He offered a fist bump and a warm greeting, telling you to let him know of any medicinal preferences that he could help you out with. He was on prep duty in the kitchen and Robin claimed he could chop a full onion in ten seconds when he wasn’t busy eating the product.

Then there was Jonathan. A quiet guy who mostly worked the coffee bar and helped on dish duty when the kitchen was busy. He made a mean latte, you were told, and if he liked you, he’d use his special coffee beans that he kept hidden in the back. 

Steve was front of house, mostly waiting tables, sometimes sitting at the rarely used host desk. Handsome and polite, he waved at you from atop a kitchen counter, already chewing on a slice of toast that he ended up sharing with Robin. 

Going by the staff schedule that was pinned to a board in the office, there seemed to be more employees you’d yet to meet. A Chrissy Cunningham, Jason Carver and someone called William although it was scored out and had Billy written next to it. There was Dustin too, pencilled in at the bottom as a weekend busboy. 

All in all, the staff at Jim’s diner were pretty cool. There was a man you hadn’t met yet, someone called Murray that was supposed to be the kitchen manager but apparently, he preferred a more work from home type of schedule. Then there was Eddie Munson. 

Line cook, although in a diner this size, he was pretty much the only cook. Territorial over his kitchen, you’d been warned that the boy tended to keep to himself, liked to communicate in grunts and grumbles, and was usually perpetually moody. He had a lot of opinions over music, over food, over the right spice to use in apple pies. And he didn’t tend to take to new people, much to your dismay. The morning you arrived ready to work, Eddie greeted you with a grunt from behind a coffee cup, dumping your uniform into your arms with a name badge that had “Chicago” written in permanent marker, a sure sign that Jim had forgotten your name. 

So the first week went without much talking to Eddie, you keeping to your space between the tables and him keeping to the kitchen. Music blasted through most of the shift, with the boy working with his head down, curls escaping his bun, his apron tied right around his waist. Every now and then, when you came to the hatch to collect plates and orders, you’d hear him hum along to the radio, an upbeat tune that never matched the frown on his face. And if he happened to catch you staring, well, the lines between his brows only deepened. 

And despite the sour faced regulars who only grunted and held their cups out when you offered more coffee, working at the diner wasn’t the worst job you’d had. Tips were okay, Jonathan made you a latte every morning you shared a shift and the sizzle of the stoves became a comforting background noise as you pottered around the tables, smiling shyly and taking orders with the utmost concentration.  

It was fine, good even. Up until your first run in with Mr Creel. 

The older man frequented the diner regularly, coming in early mornings and late nights, leaving whatever job he did to spend hours at a time at the end of the diner bar. He sat under the television screen, a dead eye stare on whatever it was showing, only holding his mug out for coffee refills. 

He was particular about being left alone and even more particular about his coffee being black. So when you accidentally topped the caffeine up with creamer, you finally heard the old man’s voice. He yelled something awful, his voice croaky from hardly being used, a raspy, horrible thing as he uttered ugly words. 

“Stupid girl,” he hissed, knocking over the cup of coffee until the insides ran along the bar and dripped onto your white sneakers. “Are you dumb? Huh?” The man glared at you as you tried to form words, mouth tripping over an apology you weren’t sure he deserved anymore. “How difficult can this job be?”

Steve came to your aid, brow furrowed and tongue bitten as he held back the things he wanted to say to the customer. But he saw the tears in your eyes, your gaze a little unfocused and glassy, his hand on your elbow as he coaxed you into leaving the situation. 

“I got this,” he muttered, a rag in hand, ready to mop up Mr. Creel’s mess as he pointedly ignored the old man’s whispered insults. “Take a breather, it’s fine. Don’t worry.”

You didn’t hesitate, scampering away with coffee sodden sneakers squeaking on the linoleum. You’d have to thank Steve later, the tears were close to falling and you were adamant they wouldn’t escape while you were still on the diner floor. So you barrelled into the kitchen without much thought, not bothering to yell ‘doors’ or ‘corner,’ just desperate to get out of sight. It was a slow morning, a few pancakes on the griddle, some leftover waffle batter in a bowl by the stove, another one full of eggs beside it. Apart from the sounds of food cooking, sizzles, pops, the sound of the radio, it was quiet. 

Pushing your back to the tiled wall, you weren’t able to do much to escape the heat that always filled the kitchen. The back of your uniform scratched at your neck, an itchy warmth that stuck to your skin and made the tears come a little easier as Mr. Creel’s words echoed in your head. You knew it wasn’t worth overthinking - everyone had warned you that the man was a perpetual thunder cloud, always gloomy, always looking for an excuse to yell. But still, you blinked one too many times and your glassy eyes spilled over, lashes sticking together with tears as you stuttered over a heaving breath. Your face scrunched, falling with too much emotion and you made a noise akin to a whimper, a wet sounding thing that you could keep in. 

You didn’t hear someone come back in from the fire exit, the brief smell of cigarette smoke mingling with the heat and the fiery barbecue scent of lunch hours brisket cooking. Eddie scowled at the sight of you by his station, back to the wall, hip pressed to the stainless steel table. Your head was bowed, the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes and when he turned down the radio - just slightly - he could hear you sniff. 

The boy frowned, somewhat uncomfortable, that crinkle that was always between his brows deepening. He used his wrist to sweep the hair out of his eyes and he gestured to the walk-in behind you, even though you couldn’t see. "Uh, normally we cry in the freezer."

You looked up, mortified. Your cheeks were red hot, a burn from the embarrassment of being caught and the frustration from the customer who was surely still at the bar, uncaring of the state he’d put you in. 

You sniffed, swiping hastily at your cheeks. "What?"

The boy sighed, an impatient noise that Robin had already told you not to take offence to. He nodded at the freezer again, lowering the heat on whatever it was he was cooking in a comically large pot. "In there. That's where we have our breakdowns."

You stood, aimless, wondering what you were supposed to do with that information. The freezer? Wouldn't Hopper be looking for you?

The boy scrunched his face in annoyance and you thought he was going to return to his recipe, but he turned off the burner and rounded the station. He tilted his chin at you, signalling you to follow. "C'mon, come wi' me," he murmured. 

It was the most he’d said to you since the day you’d turned up with your resumes and some hope in your chest. You blinked, watching Eddie stomp down the aisle between the stations, big combat boots a strange congrats to his chef whites. You ran a little to catch up, hip catching the corner of a cart filled with fresh fruit and a bowl of proofed dough, trying not to stumble into the back of the boy. You almost did when he stopped dead and pulled at the door of the giant walk-in, a wall of cold air hitting your both square in the face. 

Stacks of frozen food sat on metal shelves, lines of cut meats, boxes of iced over vegetables, already cut and prepped. Eddie waved a hand inside, gesturing for you to enter. Your breath turned visible as the temperature dropped by twenty degrees, ice cold and raising goosebumps on your arms. You half expected Eddie to shut the door and leave you alone, but you were surprised when he walked in after you, the soft thump of the door closing after him. 

Silence enveloped you both, the noise of the kitchen, the broken AC, the diner all disappearing. You breathed out a sigh of relief, breath crystallising between you and the boy who was eyeing you warily, wondering if you were going to keep crying. He didn’t say anything, he just leaned against a shelf and tugged a rag from his back pocket, wiping off his hands. 

It was easier to breathe without the heat of the diner, the constant steam from the kitchen, the way the sun hit the windows and made the whole place too hot. The boy watched you, still cautious, waiting for your chest to stop heaving and you to stop sniffling. When you did, he peered at you through his bangs. 

“Better?”

Still embarrassed, you swiped hastily at your cheeks and tried to pretend you weren’t crying, wiping the evidence of the apron that held your pad and pen- and now splashes from Mr. Creel’s coffee tantrum. “Yeah, m’fine. Thanks.”

The boy nodded, lips pressed together as if he didn’t know what else to say. Neither did you, still hot cheeked and mortified, staring wide eyed at the freezer door and for a brief second, you wondered if the rest of the diner would hear you from behind the thick freezer door if you just so happened to let out a yell. Maybe that’s why Eddie said this was the breakdown space. You guessed you’d find out sooner than you thought. 

And just as you were getting ready to push the door back open, Eddie peered up at you from where he was busy inspecting a silver scar on his wrist. “Creel’s a real asshole, don’t let him get to you.”

Surprised, you stopped in your tracks and turned. The leftover tears on your cheeks weren’t quite ice, but they left cold trails across your face that felt too obvious. You pushed against the apple of your cheek once more, fingers digging in a little too meanly as you tried to get rid of the evidence that Eddie already saw. “I know,” you nodded. You sniffed again. “Just— took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Eddie nodded slowly, like he was thinking over your words. “You gotta toughen up, kid.” He swept by you, lemongrass and some cologne that was hidden behind the smell of basil and spice. His shoulder knocked yours. “Told you you wouldn’t last in the kitchen.”

—————

Some would call it stubbornness, others would call it spiteful, but you were more determined than ever to fit in and work hard at the diner. Eddie’s comment made a lasting effect on you and you tried every day to smile through the shit and be a little bolder, leaving the shyness behind with Chicago and every other failed opportunity. Plus, the tips came a little easier if you flashed a smile and some flirt. 

You cleaned up the smashed burgers and soggy fries that were smeared into the floor after a family of tourists swept through the restaurant, you wiped down tables, refilled the salt shakers and when you collected orders from Eddie at the kitchen hatch, you made sure to use the towel to pick up the hot plates. The last time you’d suffered a burn, Eddie had rolled his eyes and scoffed. But when you came back for the next order a few minutes later, an ice pack was sitting waiting. 

“You okay?” Robin’s side nudged up against yours in greeting at the cutlery station, familiar and friendly. 

You smiled, nodding, wrapping napkins around knives and forks. Robin picked up a bundle to help and you could tell by her unsettled fidgeting, she wanted to ask something. “Are you okay?” 

The girl made a face and squinted at you, all nervous charm and nervousness. “Yeah, yeah— I’m good. So good. It’s just, uh—”

You blinked, waiting, both of you moving out of the way when Jonathan appeared with a set of headphones over his ears, grinning at you both as he dumped more clean cutlery into the drawers. 

“—you know how it was both of us on the late tonight?” Robin continued once Jonathan disappeared. You nodded, still sorting out the utensils, frowning when the freshly cleaned sets burned your fingertips. “Well, I kinda got asked on a date tonight and oh my god, okay, like, I know you’re new but I’ve been waiting on this girl literally forever and—”

It was easy to smile at Robin’s enthusiastic rambling, your shoulders losing the tension they usually held as you listened to her talk. “Who is it?” You asked curiously. 

“It’s like, holy shit? She’s interested in me? I mean— oh.” Robin cut herself off after she realised you’d spoken. Her cheeks burned, pink covering her freckles and she covered her face with her hands, embarrassed at her own excitement. “Nancy.”

You beamed and nodded, already knowing about the flirting that went on during their shared shifts, the way Robin looked at the other girl, the way Steve rolled his eyes fondly behind his friend's back.  

“That’s sweet,” you told the girl, happy for her. “You guys goin’ somewhere nice?”

“Uh, yeah,” Robin smiled, bashful, before she flicked her gaze to you again, nerves kicking back in. “That’s actually what I wanted to ask. Would you mind if I left early?” The girl gestured to the quiet diner, a little more peaceful now the dinner rush was over. “I know I was supposed to stay until close with you, but this show starts at like, nine? So I was just wondering if it’d be okay with you if I—”

You cut the girl off with a hand to her forearm, stopping her nervous gesturing. You smiled again. “Hey, it’s totally okay. I can handle it.”

She grinned, face lighting up with genuine happiness as she squealed and grabbed your arms, pulling you into a crushing hug despite the bundles of cutlery you held to your chest. But her excitement was contagious and you grinned too, happy to have made Robin happy, happier to feel like you had a real friend. 

“I owe you!” She gasped, “thank you so much! You’re on with Eddie ‘til close, and maybe Jonathan? It’ll be fine! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She gushed as she pulled off her apron and rushed to the office. 

The rest of the time  went quietly, as did most of the graveyard shifts. Families and couples left after eight and as the evening headed towards night, the clock approaching twelve, the diner was empty apart from one lone trucker in the corner nursing an extra black coffee and a cinnamon roll. So you headed into the kitchen with the last of the plates, proud of the way you balanced all five of them over your forearms, only wobbling a little. You even remembered to call out as you pushed the door open, even though there wasn’t much happening. 

The hustle and bustle had slowed to a lazy stroll, the radio still on but much quieter, another sixties song crooning from the speakers. Eddie was washing down his station, knives sharpened and put away, the stovetop grills seeping in the sink full of bubbles. 

“Floors have just been mopped,” he told you without looking up. “Careful.”

You nodded, always startled when he spoke, his voice much softer than he looked. It was honeyed whisky, syrupy smooth. You managed to slide the dishes into an empty sink without much fanfare - nothing spilled, nothing smashed - and you were planning on refilling the ketchup dispenser when your stomach growled, unreasonably loud. 

You clamped a hand over it, an awful flush crawling up the back of your neck that you knew too well. Embarrassed, you tried to laugh it off, avoiding Eddie’s gaze when his head shot up. Wide eyed, he appraised you, watching as you gave him a wide berth as you shot for the door. Before you could make a break for it, the cook dropped his cleaning rag and sighed. 

“Have you ate?”

You stopped, almost tipping over your own feet as you spun back round to face him. You wondered if you misheard him, if he was maybe talking to someone else in the kitchen you hadn’t noticed but Jonathan was whistling outside of the kitchen hatch, cleaning down the coffee machine and no one else was on shift. 

Still, you asked, “what?”

Eddie frowned, like he was upset about repeating himself. But he was already pulling a chopping board out from the racks underneath the workbench. “I said, have you ate? You sound like a dying whale.”

If you weren’t so mortified, you think you would’ve been offended. You hadn’t eaten though, not since you’d managed to shovel a bag of chips into your mouth between a bus load of tourists stopping off for a milkshake and Jim’s famous wings. But you weren’t sure why Eddie wanted to know so you shrugged, hoping your embarrassment wasn’t showing on your face.  

The boy just sighed, like he always did, and gestured to a stool that sat across from his station. “Sit,” he ordered gruffly before pulling out half of a baked loaf from earlier. “You like mustard?”

“What’re you doing?” You hadn’t moved, standing shell shocked by the door, your stomach still yelling at you. 

Eddie turned to you with that same frown, forever looking annoyed at your presence. Now he was brandishing a butter knife, more curls than ever escaping his bun. He really should wear a hairnet. 

“What’s it look like?” He grunted. He pointed at the stool once more. “C’mon. Mustard?”

You walked over slowly, like you were approaching something wild and unpredictable. Maybe you were. The stool squeaked as it scraped across the tiles, and you eyed the boy warily as you pushed yourself onto the chair across from him. “Sure,” you mumbled, watching as he slathered slices of sourdough with mustard and a little mayonnaise. 

“You should eat properly.” Eddie scowled. “You don’t eat nothin’, gonna make yourself pass out in this heat.”

You seemed to forget your shyness as you frowned right back. “How would you know?” You demanded. 

Eddie scoffed and suddenly you forgot altogether that you and this boy didn’t really talk. He was rolling his eyes at you as he layered on some cheddar cheese and salami, not asking you before he added some prosciutto and lettuce. “Because you scramble in and out of here all day chasin’ your own tail. I watched you inhale that bag of chips earlier like a goddamn raccoon.”

You squirmed not loving the comparison but knowing that he probably wasn’t far off in terms of likeness. But still, your frown matched his. “I don’t scramble,” you murmured. 

Eddie scoffed, a breathy, disbelieving thing that made him raise his eyebrows. He was moving around his station with a grace you couldn’t fathom, speedy and gentle with each movement. He drizzled a little honey over the second slice of bread before stacking it on top, an impressive display of flavour in each layer before he sliced it down the middle. 

“Oh, yes you do,” Eddie shot back. “Like a squirrel.” He placed the sandwich on a plate Jonathan had already cleaned and pushed it towards you before deciding to add another little pot of honey beside it. 

“I thought I was a raccoon?” You asked him before you could help yourself. “Thank you,” you added quickly, looking down at the plate. Your stomach grumbled again, your mouth watered. 

Eddie shrugged, wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “Either rodent will do,” he told you. “And you’re welcome. Now eat.”

You didn’t argue anymore, tucking into your snack with a shy sort of wariness. You’d hardly spoken to the boy before now and yet here he was, preparing you food. Just a sandwich, but it took more effort than any snack you’d ever made yourself. You took a bite, eyes closing at the flavour and you hummed in appreciation. When you opened them again, Eddie was at the sink, his back to you but you could see from the tilt of his head that showed off how he watched you from the side of his eyes. 

“Oh my god—” you cut yourself off, humming again, a delighted little noise that you couldn’t help let out. “This is amazing.”

You ate until Eddie was done cleaning, using your crusts to dip into the honey, mopping up everything off your plate until it was empty, your legs swinging happily from the stool. If you were alone, you would’ve danced.  You were sure you saw him fight a smile as he returned to the bench, brows raised at your full cheeks, your happy eyes, the crumbs on his once clean station. 

“Squirrel to chipmunk,” he noted, gaze trailing over your face. You swallowed quickly, cheeks heating up once again and you dropped your eye line to the table as you wiped your hands on your apron. “Good?” He asked. 

“Delicious,” you told him with a nod. “Thank you. Again. You didn’t have to do that.”

Eddie swung a dish towel over his shoulder and ducked his head, curls falling loose around his face and you watched as he slid his clean equipment back into their rightful place. “Was just a sandwich, no big deal.”

It was just a sandwich. But you’d soon come to realise it was something so much bigger than you’d ever have thought. 

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Witch /// Part 2

Part 1

The great part about Rhiana the Witch’s cozy cottage outside that small town was the privacy. Not just when her most wriggly meals ran; but because it was purposefully hidden. The faerie circles just outside the town messed with maps and satellites making her little place a safe haven from the enemies and ex-lovers experiments she’d made over her many centuries of being alive. But now that she was leaving to get closer to you, she was uncomfortably exposed. 

“Hey Rhi-Rhi you okay? You’ve looked so nervous since I picked you up.”

“Oh I’m fine it’s just all these people make me so nervous.”

“I guess it is kind of overwhelming.”

“Maybe you can take me somewhere private. Like your place maybe?”

She thinks it’s worth the risk as she’s allowed to use the same excuse to cling to your side. Pretend to be distraught when she gets hit on to have you pretend to be dating to drive off desperate and confident weirdos. She eats that up. Unfortunately though, her open fawning over you leaves her unguarded from soul searches. An old technique lovers of olde used to unite over long periods. Naturally, trouble just happens to be in the 500-meter radius and is well off enough to get in close to foil her plans.

“Hello there. I’m your new neighbor. I wanted to introduce myself to everyone since I’m completely new to the area.”

“Oh hi, nice to meet you! I’m (Y/n) and this is Rhi–”

“(Y/n) you don’t have to introduce me I’m only visiting.”

“That’s such a shame Rhiana. I would’ve hoped we could…get to know each other better.”

Trouble is one of her craziest exes–Narciness. He was a nymph and she was a witch. Back then, it made sense that they were perfect for one another. Both were a gorgeous couple, immortal and with plenty of magic. Not to mention he didn’t even mind that she ate humans for her youthful appearance. But it just wasn’t right for Rhea. Just as his name would suggest there was a deep-seated and well-masked narcissism that showed its ugly head at the worst times. She ultimately took the very mature option that she’s learned over the centuries when it comes to major obstacles. She ran. 

“Nice to see you again Rhiana. It’s always nice to know my girlfriend decided to disappear from me the last few centuries!”

“Quit whining. I left you a note didn’t I?”

“A note cursed to explode with a memory-wipe spell the second I finished it. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to leave me.”

“Oh genius, you’re finally getting it!”

“That can’t be right! You and I…we’re perfect together! And you instead cheat on me with the most imperfect human!”

“Do not ever talk about my (Y/n) like that!”

She’s almost glad he’s crazy enough not to hide his intentions. Had he been cut from the same cloth as she-she would have kept silent until after she devoured her prey. But Narciness is an idiot who so clearly had it out for you that she wouldn’t let him live another day without singing your praises. Unfortunately, the thing about killing a nymph is that it wasn’t easy, a child of the old powers of nature. He’s survived a lot of things and can withstand some of Rhea’s most fatal potions. And especially when she’s far from home spending time with you, she’s a little shorthanded. So she’ll come up with another remedy. 

“Hey Narc, I didn’t know you went shopping here.”

“I think instead of solely getting the organic stuff I figured I’d swing by here every once in a while. The gallery is truly immaculate.”

“Good for you. C’mon (Y/n) we’re going to miss our movie.”

“Oh right! Well, it was nice seeing you, Narc!”

“Oh (Y/n) before you go, there's something I wanted to tell you.”

“What?”

“I just love your smile.”

“Oh, thanks !”

“Let’s go, (Y/n).”

The thing she found that sparked her attraction to him was his smile. It lit up the room like yours and in the end, it’ll be what protects you from his violent protections of ‘their relationship’. Unfortunately, now that she’s used a spell to shift his affection she’ll have to figure out some way to end his life before he turns violent against her. Too bad it’ll be hard to figure out in the span of two days. Now she can miss her plane and extend her stay a little while but it’s just not enough time. Not enough time for her to make sure ‘Narc’ doesn’t try anything, she’ll have to do something drastic. 

“Narciness I was hoping we could find some common ground.”

“With you? Babe, didn’t I tell you I was done? Your old news.”

“For you, I might be but I’m the hottest thing in (Y/n)’s world.”

“...I see. So we’re officially competing then. Would you like to fight this out now?”

“I’d like to try something new. A gesture of peace, if you will.”

“...oven mitts? You plan to make me bake? Why would I concern myself with such a lowly task?”

“Did I tell you (Y/n) has a sweet tooth?”

“...”

Rhea the Witch considers herself lucky her ex considered cooking for himself as a job for ‘someone uglier than him.’ She’s also glad she gets to stay another day due to food poisoning. Who knew nymphs gave witches so much nausea?

“Oh Rhea were you eating that bloody meat again? I keep telling you that rare steak is great but you got to make sure it’s at least cooked a little bit.”

“I know hon. I should really think about maintaining my diet better.”

“Yeah, I’m just glad this is happening now. Instead of on a plane or bus where I wouldn’t be there for you.”

“Yes…(Y/n) what do you think about me staying another week or so. So many things keep happening, it feels as though fate is telling me.”

She may have some serious indigestion but you were hers and the threat was…toast. For Rhea, her reward was being pampered by you. Finally able to rest with her love by her side. Nothing was better and nothing could bother her. Not even the distant thought of the new owner to the place next door. 

“I noticed your plants. I’m not a huge fan of nature but maybe you can show me the ropes. What do you say, neighbor?”

[the-prettiest-teardrop]

Second Chance Ch. 1

Pairing- Childhoodbestfriend!Steve x Introverted!reader

Warnings- Drunk Steve, Alcohol mention, Steve being an asshole, regret, kissing.

A/N- This was so fun to write, and part 2 should be out soon. This actually hit close to home tho cuz I got dumped by my childhood bestie right after lockdown ended

———

Steve-fucking-Harrington, childhood best friend, turned to someone you considered an enemy.

Elementary school was great, sitting on the porch together, eating popsicles, fighting over who was the faster runner. Middle school wasn’t bad either, minus a few arguments and awkward moments. Late nights were spent lying in your backyard, giggling and gossiping over who had a crush on who, and who was dating who. This was around the time you started noticing his popularity rise, more girls were starting to take interest in him, I mean, yourself included, but that was something he never knew. High school is when things went downhill, rather than laughing with him on the porch, you sat alone, staring down at your shoes, hiding inside whenever him and his new, cool friends came driving past your house. It all still hurt, the way it was as if you were erased from his memory, like he never knew you at all. 

Your phone rang, interrupting your otherwise quiet night. You set down your book, “Pride and Prejudice” and picked up the phone.

“Hey, Y/N, you think you could come help me out?” It was Robin’s voice, and you could hear drunken chatter and the other sounds of a party in the background.

“Depends on what it is.” You reply with an exasperated sigh, you were trying to have a relaxing night in, and having to save someone at a party didn’t sound like something you wanted to do right now.

“Listen, I need help getting Steve home, and before you complain, I’m not gonna be able to drive him home and you’re the only one I know that could help.” She explains before you can interject. She knew how he hurt you, and how you still disliked him to this day.

“God, fine, only because I want you to be happy.” You groan as Robin thanks you before hanging up. You put the phone back on the receiver and make your way to the party. 

Once you arrive at the house, you’re immediately hit with the overwhelming scent of alcohol and vomit, making you gag. You quickly find Robin, a drunken Steve at her side.

“Did you get him water?” You ask with a sigh, already over having to deal with him.

“Mhm, now get him home please, I’ve got things to do.” Robin reply’s, helping shift him toward you. You wrap an arm around the drunken boy, his hazy eyes meeting yours.

“I know I’m the last person you want to spend the night with, but let’s go.” You murmur, and he luckily complies as you get him into your car.

The drive home is fairly silent, until you turn onto your street.

“I don’t know why I ditched you.” He slurs drunkenly, and your heart seizes. You knew he wasn’t in his right mind, but hearing him say those words still meant something. “I thought they were cool or whatever, but now everyone’s off to college and I’m stuck working a stupid, dead-end job.” His words were sincere, no matter how drunk he was, it was all the truth. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him, it seemed like he’d changed, not completely, but enough to give him another chance.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.” You murmur, helping him out of the car and into your house, where you then got him settled on the couch.

You could hear him mumbling to himself as you got him water, and when you set it on the coffee table in front of him, his eyes landed on your face.

“You’re pretty, you’ve always been pretty.” He slurs, and you give a brief smile, acknowledging the comment without giving it any time to blossom into anything more.

You brought him a blanket, telling him to rest before retreating to your bedroom. 

As you laid in bed that night, his words kept replaying in your head, and you couldn’t help the little swell of excitement you got in your chest when you thought of him. He was still as handsome as always, with his gorgeous carmel locks and big brown eyes. You dreamed of him, of what it would’ve been like if he hadn’t ditched you, if your life hadn’t taken that turn.

In your dreams, you lay in his arms, his face tucked into your neck. You were utterly in love, attending college together, planning out the rest of your lives. Unfortunately, when you woke up, you were forced to face the harsh reality.

You walked downstairs, expecting to see Steve on the couch, but he was nowhere to be found, until you spotted him out on the porch.

“What are you doing out here?” You ask quietly, confused as to his sudden change in location.

“You deserve an apology, and I figured there was no better place to do it.” He says quietly, his voice low as you sit down beside him. “I really shouldn’t have done that, I was an asshole to you, and look where that got me. I know this isn’t nearly what you deserve in the forms of an apology, and I understand if you never want to see me ever again.” He explains, looking down at his shoes.

“Thank you, I mean, I can kinda understand why you did it, being popular feels good, especially when there’s no one at home to make you feel like you matter.” You knew all too well about the situation at home, all the times he stayed over at your house as kids, all thanks to his neglectful parents. “For the record, I really don’t want to lose you, not after getting you back.” You add, and you find your hand in his, fingers laced together.

“You know, I had a crush on you all through elementary and middle school, always thought you were pretty, even after I left.” He says, squeezing your hand a little.

“I know, last night, you said some things. I’ve always liked you too, I mean, I don’t think that’s a huge surprise, everyone likes you.” You smile sadly, which makes his heart ache. He’d hurt you enough, and didn’t want to do any more damage.

“I’d be willing to give us another chance, but maybe as more than friends.” He offers, his tone soft, fearing rejection. Your silence scared him, but before he could react, you were pressing your lips to his, and his hands flew to your lower back, holding you close.

You spent most of the day like that, sitting on the porch and chatting, catching up on the last 4 years.

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Hii I have an unwell organized prompt:

Melissa and the reader at a game, there is a kiss cam, they kiss, the reader gets scared ‘cause someone can notice she really likes Mel. A lot of comfort please and thank you ❤️

The Kiss Cam

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Like one swear word

The problem, you were beginning to realise, was that you were incapable of saying no to Melissa. She looked at you with those green eyes and asked you in that voice and you just melted, letting her do whatever she wanted. You’d agree to anything if she only asked you with that small smile you’d grown to love.

All of which meant you were squeezed into the stands as a hockey game was played below on the ice. Her arm was pressed to yours and you could hear her shouting down at the players. When she’d asked in the staff room if you’d come with her you’d nodded, not considering the fact you hadn’t ever watched a hockey game in your life.

The air prickled at your skin, cold enough to make you shiver and curl up in your coat. The crowd was loud and there was the scent of popcorn and processed meat on the air. Melissa kept leaning closer, whispering in your ear, explaining the game to you. None of it was sticking in your brain, not with her so close, her breath warming your skin, her hair brushing against your shoulder. You wanted to freeze the moment, live in it forever.

Surging out of her seat, she cheered as the puck found home in the back of the net. She looked down at you, wide smile on her face and you couldn’t help but grin back. It was like the rest of the crowd wasn’t cheering, fading away as you stared up at her, nothing but her real to you. Sitting, her arm pressed to yours, warm in the otherwise cold air. You found yourself leaning into her warmth, not able to help it. Every atom of yours wanted to be close to her.

“Watch Hart in goals. He won’t let a single one in,” she murmured in your ear, pointing down one end of the rink.

You looked where she was pointing, not sure you were seeing what she was. Sure, the goalie was stopping the other team from scoring but you couldn’t see whatever skill Melissa was seeing. Still, the feeling of her breath against your skin was sending your heart into a frenzy.

A cheer went up from the crowd and you couldn’t figure out why. No one had scored a goal. You’d been watching to make sure you didn’t miss it again.

“I can’t wait to see which dumbos they get up on there.”

She nudged you, nodding up to the big screen above the rink. A kiss cam. You laughed, watching a couple kiss, the man shoving his tongue into her mouth. Melissa tutted, shaking her head and she lent back, arms crossing over her chest. You did your best not to notice the way it pushed her ample chest upwards.

It took her elbow nudging you to notice that the image on the screen had changed. In fact, it had changed to two very familiar people. Your cheeks heated immediately, shaking your head at your own face displayed for the entire crowd to see. Melissa chuckled under her breath, arm snaking around your shoulders.

“Come on then, hon,” she said, “pucker up.”

You wanted to argue but then thought it would look even weirder if you didn’t. Would everyone know about the crush you’d been harbouring on Melissa since the day you’d met her if you didn’t? Would she know?

Rather than continuing to think about it, you let forward until you felt the warmth of her breath. Her lips were soft when they brushed against yours. You made a small noise when her tongue ran along your bottom lip, leaving you breathless and head spinning. A cheer went up from the crowd and you pulled back, practically jerking away from her.

You felt your cheeks burning and your entire body was an electric wire. You looked away from Melissa, not sure you could handle looking at her when you could still feel the press of her lips lingering on yours. You look a long sip from your soda, looking down at your feet.

She shouted something down at the ice and you sighed, shifting as far as you could from her in the tiny seat. She was so close, her perfume wafting towards you. You glanced down at the ice then back at her. She was so beautiful and yet you knew none of it was for you. Of course it wasn’t. Melissa would never like you like that. She could have her pick of people. No way would she choose you.

A gross feeling settled in your stomach. You shifted in your seat again. You didn’t like the way your skin felt or the beating of your heart. You swallowed past a lump in your throat, doing your best to push down the rising feelings in your chest. It was all feeling overwhelming and you could taste her on your lips. You needed space.

You needed to get out.

“Sorry,” you whispered to her, “I have to go.”

You stood, ignoring her surprised look, doing your best to shuffle past the people sitting in your row. She called after you but you ignored it, speeding up until you reached the stairs. You weren’t running but it was a close thing as you did your best to put some distance between yourself and Melissa. You couldn’t stand spending another moment sitting so close to her when the ghosts of her lips were haunting you.

Pushing out of the arena, you hurried out into the parking lot, frantically digging through your bag for your keys. Someone shouted your name behind you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you dug further, desperate to find the cool metal you needed. A hand grasped your wrist, turning you until you were staring into fiery green eyes.

“Oi, what gives?” Melissa demanded.

“I’m sorry, I just… I have to go. I’m not feeling well,” you said, not quite lying but definitely not telling the truth.

“You sure or was kissing me that bad?” she asked.

“No,” you yelped. There was no way you could admit that kissing her had been that bad. Or rather, than had it had been the opposite of bad and if you weren’t careful she’d figure out how much you wanted to d it again.

“I know you probably didn’t want to kiss me but this is just childish. You can’t avoid me when we work together. I thought we were friends, hon.”

You hadn’t noticed before, but looking up you found pain swimming in her eyes. Her fingers tightened for a moment before she released you, practically throwing your arm back at you. Her lips pressed together and the anger returned to her eyes.

“I’m not some schmutz you can trick. I know someone like you wouldn’t be interested in me but you could have pretended not to be disgusted after kissing me. You should have just said no,” she said.

“I wasn’t disgusted,” you said, “I’m not disgusted at all.”

“Then what’s going on? You couldn’t get away from me fast enough. You wouldn’t even look at me afterwards.”

She crossed her arms, glaring at you, waiting for your answer. There were no words, nothing you could say that would explain your behaviour. Running off had done the exact opposite of what you’d been hoping. There was no way she wasn’t going to figure out that you had to leave or else you might do something stupid like kiss her again.

“You got nothing to say?” she demanded.

You silently shook your head. Her nostrils flared, staring at you hard enough to crush your lungs. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. She scoffed, storming past you, her shoulder slamming into yours. All you could do was watch her retreating back before it hit you why your car keys hadn’t been in your bag.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself.

You chased after Melissa, doing your best to ignore the way the denim of her jeans clung to the shape of her ass. She was doing her angry walk and you were terrified to make your request to her.

“Melissa,” you said, gently touching her shoulder as you caught up to her.

“What?” she snarled, turning on you.

“You’re my ride,” you said, doing your best not to cower under her glare.

“You can find some other way to get home,” she snapped.

“Mel, please,” you said.

“Don’t call me that,” she said, taking a step away from you.

You hadn’t meant for the nickname to slip from your lips. You hadn’t ever called her that in real life. In your head, sure, but to her face was a whole other matter. Being too familiar with her was the first step down a road that terrified you.

All those months working at Abbott and you’d found yourself slipping, letting more and more of your guard down around her. It was impossible not to. You were drawn to her. Her eyes would sparkle and she’d smile at you and you were a goner.

“Sorry, I just… Please. I’m sorry. I reacted badly and I didn’t mean to. But it’s not about you. I promise,” you said.

“Then what is it about?” she demanded.

“It’s… hard to explain,” you replied, curling your arms around your body, hoping to hold yourself together.

“Try.” Her voice brooked no argument. It was either saying something or lose her forever.

“Fine but… promise me this isn’t going to change things between us. It’s my problem to fix. I don’t want you to hate me,” you said, anxiety curdling in your stomach.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

You took a deep breath, arms tightening around your body until you could feel the squeeze. She was watching you intently. You couldn’t look at her, staring down at your shuffling feet.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to kiss you or that I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, it was the opposite. I like you. Like, a whole lot. And I thought after kissing you then you’d realise how much I like you which in retrospect has worked out really badly for me since now I’m telling you. But the point is, is that I’ll get over it since you clearly don’t feel the same way and nothing has to change with us and we can just forget about it. Because it’s not about you. It’s all my fault.”

Your confession tumbled clumsily from your lips, landing in a pile at your feet. You held your breath, frozen under her watchful gaze, not able to look at her properly. Your arms tightened again, digging into your ribs uncomfortably, keeping you on edge.

“What are you talking about, hon?”

A warm hand closed around your forearm, tugging it away from your body. You let her, your problem with saying no to her rearing its ugly head once again.

“It’s just a silly crush,” you said, wishing it was true, “I’ll get over it.”

“You’ll get over it? You think that’s what I want?” she asked.

“Don’t you?”

You peered up into her face, trying to figure out what it was she wanted you to say. She wasn’t quite meeting your eye, looking at something over your shoulder. Her fingers were pressing into the vulnerable skin on the underside of your arm and it was making you both breathless and on edge.

“I might not,” she replied, still being evasive.

“Okay, well, I don’t really know what you want now,” you said.

You didn’t like the way uncertainty stuck to you. You tried to tug out of her hold but she only held on tighter.

“Mel,” you said, “what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to tell you something,” she replied, “just give me a second.”

You waited, the anxiety in you creeping up. You’d basically exposed your hand to her and she was leaving you to stew in it. The silence was deafening, a pressure pushing against you until you wanted to curl into a ball and hide. The longer it drew on, the more you wanted to pull away from her.

Not if this was just about her rejecting you.

“Look, Mel, I-“

You were cut off as her lips pressed to yours again. Freezing, a million thoughts ran through your head, the loudest of which was that whatever was happening was some kind of prank or delusion. The hand on your arm pulled you closer until you felt her warmth seeping into your body.

“Mel,” you mumbled against her lips.

She drew back from you, hurt flashing over her face before anger replaced it, a mask to cover her vulnerability. You weren’t sure what to do, if you should reach out to her or not. Your indecision seemed to seal the deal for her. She grabbed her hand back, drawing away from you.

“No, wait,” you said, grabbing her, “I don’t understand.”

“I like you too, hon,” burst from her lips, the anger and the hurt mingling until it was like a spear she was throwing at you.

But it landed like a caress against your skin.

“You like me too?” you asked, not quite able to believe it.

“I asked you to spend time with me on a weekend,” she answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Was this a date and I didn’t realise?” you asked.

“Hon, you’ll know when I take you on a date,” she replied.

“So you wanted to kiss me then? You don’t care that I like you?” You needed to be sure.

“I care that you like me a whole lot, hon,” she said, “just not for the reasons you think. I want you to like me. I just didn’t think you did.”

“But you kissed me,” you protested.

“For the kiss cam. Those chumps in there boo anyone who doesn’t kiss. I thought a quick one would be better than that,” she replied.

“You brought your tongue into it,” you accused her.

“Yeah, because you’re hot and I thought you might like it. And if you liked it maybe you’d say yes to going out some time,” she said with a small shrug. You felt your lips tug up into a smile.

“How about you try kissing me again and we’ll see if that works,” you suggested.

Her hands were gentle as they came up to cup your cheeks. You waited, holding still until her lips brushed against yours. You lent into her, your tongue running along her lower lip in a mirror of hers earlier. Her mouth opened under yours, tongues brushing together. You moaned into her mouth, hands landing on the curve of her hips, pulling her closer.

Loud cheering startled you, a group of people bursting from the door of the stadium. You jerked back from Melissa, staring at them over your shoulder. With her hands still on your cheeks, she turned your face back towards her, laying another searing kiss on your lips.

“Come on, hon. I’ll drive you home,” she murmured against your lips.

“Or maybe you could take me out to dinner,” you said.

“I’ll think about it,” she said but she was smiling at you with a twinkle in her eye.

Her fingers threaded through yours, tugging you towards her car. There was a bounce in your step as you followed, biting down on your bottom lip to try and contain your smile. You did a really bad job of it.

[keerysfreckles]

stay here - mike schmidt

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns (no movie spoilers bc i haven't seen it yet im just obsessed with mike) fluff! fluff! fluff! like one makeout scene but thats it

enjoy!

to say babysitting michael schmidt's little sister, abby, was easy would be a lie. mike called you earlier that day, right before his shift started, and asked if you could look over abby until he got home. at the end of the call he mentioned his hours were shorter, and earlier than normal, so he wouldn't be home too late.

it was currently eleven pm. abby's supposed to be in bed by ten-thirty, and nothing was working. y/n tried calming her down with a disney movie. she even colored with her in her makeshift fort in her room. but nothing worked, she was as hyper as ever.

"abby, please! we both know you're going to be tired tomorrow and you have school," y/n pleads.

"but i'm not tired," abby groans, rolling over dramatically on the couch.

"you know what? fine. i'll just tell mike you weren't listening to me," y/n sends abby an evil smile. abby perks up, and sits up to lean on the arm of the couch to look at y/n.

"no! no no no! he said if i was good all week he'd buy me something from the store."

y/n crosses her arms and leans against the hallway wall, opposite of the couch. "looks like you're going to have to listen to me afterall."

"but i'm still not tired," abby groans again, but walks over towards y/n.

y/n looked down at the girl in front of her. she saw the small bags under her eyes, and noticed her eyes kept closing every so often.

an idea popped into y/n's head, "why don't you go lay down, and i'll be in in ten minutes, yeah?"

abby nodded, confused by the request, but still nodded nonetheless and walked down the hallway and towards her room. y/n watched for a moment before abby was fully inside her room. she knew abby was most likely to fall asleep once her head hit the pillow. now she only had to kill two hours until mike would be home.

y/n and mike have known each other for three years. y/n moved into the one story house that was unoccupied in mike's neighborhood. the town wasn't used to newcomers, so of course y/n was the talk of the town for her first two weeks there.

it wasn't until a month later when y/n was on her morning run on a saturday, and had bumped into michael. she was instantly confused when she noticed he was in his work uniform, and on the way back to his house. the two made light conversation, and ended up at y/n's that night for a movie marathon.

about a month after that, mike knocked on y/n's front door, and properly asked her if she wanted to go on a date with him. of course the girl agreed, and that was the first date of many for the couple.

which leaves y/n in the position she's in - babysitting abby.

when mike and y/n officially started dating abby interrogated the girl. asking her a bunch of questions, some more personal than others, which mike quickly interjected. abby gave mike the idea of having y/n watch over her, instead of having to pay random strangers. mike obviously agreed.

y/n settled herself on the couch and put on a random horror movie that was on tv. she couldn't even get past the opening as her eyes closed and her body went limp from tiredness.

she grabbed the blanket at the other end of the couch before fully letting sleep embrace her.

the only time y/n woke up was when she heard the doorknob rattling. she turned slightly, to look over the back of the couch, and saw her boyfriend walking through the doorway.

"shit, were you sleeping?" mike asked, taking off his jacket and throwing it by the front door.

y/n sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, "yeah, but i can go. abby's asleep so i did my job pretty well," she chuckles.

"thank you again. and you know you can stay babe, i don't mind the comapny," michael smiles.

y/n couldn't help but notice how on edge mike looked as soon as he walked inside.

"are you okay?" she asks softly, still sitting on the couch.

mike nods as he sits down beside her, "yeah, just a long night." he leans over and kisses her cheek, causing y/n's cheeks to turn pink.

"do you want to talk about it?" y/n moves her leg to rest her chin on her knee, as mike's eyes glaze over the tv screen before turning fully towards his girlfriend.

"william was just on my ass before my shift, and vanessa had so much energy tonight, i just couldn't handle it. and it felt like time was going so slow tonight," mike's voice was quiet. y/n could tell he had a rough night as he rubbed his eyes.

y/n leans forward and turns off the tv, making mike slightly confused. "is there anything i can do to cheer you up?" y/n stands in front of mike and holds her hands out. he immediately takes her hands in his as he stands with her. mike leans forward and kisses y/n's forehead.

"can you just stay here tonight?" mike's voice almost seems desperate, as if y/n's presence was the only thing keeping him going right now.

y/n nods, "i'll always stay if you ask me to," she smiles as mike closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers.

"was abby okay tonight?" mike asked, pulling away, but still keeping their hands connected.

"she was good, until trying to get her to go to bed. but you didn't hear that from me," this caused mike to let out a small laugh.

the couple, with one of their hands linked with each other's, went down the hallway. mike stopped y/n and opened abby's bedroom door quietly. y/n stood beside mike and held onto his arm with her free hand, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

the pair were met with abby sleeping under her blanket. small snores escaped her lips. y/n leaned up and kissed mike's jaw, before whispering, "c'mon, i know you need sleep just as much as she does."

y/n pulls mike into his room, which was at this point their shared room. mike had two drawers of his dresser specifically for y/n, vice verse in y/n's room. mike stepped into the bathroom and they both got ready for the night, in the most comfortable clothes they own.

y/n was already laying down under the sheets once mike came out of the bathroom. even laying there, he thought y/n looked so effortlessly beautiful.

"why are you staring at me like that?" y/n asks as she watches mike slide into the bed next to her.

"what? i can't stare at my pretty girl?" mike leans forward and kisses y/n on the lips, as he brings his left hand to her cheek. he rolls over, so his right arm is on the mattress, as he hovers over y/n. her hands move to his waist, slowing moving to his lower back.

their lips molded with one another's, and y/n could almost sense the stress leaving mike's body.

mike barely pulled away, leaving little to no space in between the two, "i love you so much."

y/n smiled, "i love you too."

she leaned up to kiss him once more, and mike playfully rolled his eyes while moving to lay down beside the girl. mike loved falling asleep while holding onto y/n's waist, because he knew she was safe.

[hachyxd-blog]

Ray´s B-day fanfic <3

"Today, years ago, my favorite yandere was born from all the visual novels I've had the fortune to see or play. I can separate fiction from reality, but I don't think I'm the only one who would like to be there to hug Ray and give him a little peace. As a small gift, I wanted to make a short fanfic of my coffee addict alongside a little drawing to complement it. I apologize in advance if it's not understood well, English is not my language and I'm using a translator."

@concreteparasite Gracias por crear tal maravilla.

Happy birthday.

Who would have thought it would be possible to keep a secret from the great Binary star. Mc laughed happily in the kitchen as she finished washing the dishes. It had been just over a year since she moved into Ray's home. At first, it wasn't easy; it seemed like the option to leave was given, or rather, it was never up for discussion. After much talking, they managed to make it work together: Mc wouldn't be confined to her new home, but she would always stay in touch with Ray when she went out.

Truth be told, it's not like she could keep a secret from him; after all, he possessed the incredible ability to read minds, but she trusted him not to read hers all the time. Mc really believed it was impossible to turn on her mind... until she discovered it. On her maternal side, she spoke Spanish, and unconsciously she had been thinking in that language, discovering a weakness to Ray's ability. He seemed annoyed that he couldn't fully understand, but there was nothing he could do.

Today, in particular, he seemed very upset. I concentrated as best I could so that the only language I thought in was Spanish and not to ruin the surprise.

"Tell me what you're thinking..." Ray's voice appeared behind me, his hands wrapped around my hips as he rested his chin on my shoulder. The height difference between us was cute.

"I'm not thinking anything important," I said playfully.

"Stop," he said seriously.

"What?"

"You've been thinking in Spanish all day," His voice sounded annoyed, while I tried to contain my laughter.

"Really? I didn't realize."

"It's annoying."

"Well, darling. It's not the end of the world if you don't know everything that's going on in my mind."

Without responding, Ray left me alone in the kitchen and headed to our room, then came out in his superhero suit. Before me was Binary Star in all his glory, the only difference being that he didn't show that fake smile but still looked upset.

Unknowingly, due to my practice, I had been thinking in Spanish again.

Normally, he would give me a kiss goodbye and go to his vigil shift. But today, he flew off the balcony without looking at me. I won't deny that it hurt me. But it meant I was on the right track to keep the surprise.

Ray came back around 5 in the morning. Half-asleep, I felt him walking around the room before lying down on the other side of our bed. It seems he's still upset because he didn't hug me as he always does.

The next morning, I let him sleep, it helped that we slept separately, so I got out of bed easily. After putting on my robe, I went downstairs and asked the neighbor for my package. I had gotten a chocolate cake with coffee to celebrate Ray's birthday. But if I kept it in our house, he would realize I was planning in Spanish. The neighbor agreed to keep the cake at his house along with my gift.

I went back home, made coffee, and took the cake out of its box, and my gift was already on the tray.

In our room, Ray was still asleep. I cleared my throat and started singing "Happy Birthday."

Ray looked for a moment and then covered his face with his pillow. I could see that lovely smile; he was embarrassed.

I left things on the bedside table and threw myself to hug and kiss Ray; I knew I should have let him sleep more, but I couldn't contain myself after all these days preparing the surprise.

In no time, I was caught in his arms.

"Everything... was for this," His voice sounded deeper from just waking up, but he seemed happy.

"Yes, did you forget your own birthday?" I joked, stroking his soft hair, and running my hand over his cheek. "Ignoring them doesn't mean you stop aging, old man."

"No, I just don't usually celebrate it." He ignored my joke and just passed his hand over his face, somewhat frustrated.

"Well, get used to it. This might be the only birthday I manage to keep a surprise. Next year, you'll know what to expect." I exclaimed proudly.

Ray smiled, keeping his eyes closed; maybe it was the fact that he now had someone to be with him for the following birthdays that made him take this even more joyfully.

"If you don't want cake now, we can save it for later." I gave a glance to the table with his cake and gift, along with his essential morning coffee.

"How about the gift?" He pointed to the purple box. "Can I have it now?"

It was at this moment that nerves increased from zero to a hundred. Everything would be decided at this moment.

"Of course," I handed over the gift, watching as he slowly unwrapped it.

Ray's eyes widened as he looked at the contents of the box and then at me, pulling out two handmade dolls of them and a pregnancy test. After a moment of silence, Mc cleared her throat.

"D-don't think I'll give you a gift like this every year." I laughed nervously.

"Since when—" maybe it was shock, but his voice sounded distant, as if he didn't completely believe what was happening.

"I-it's still early, I haven't been to the doctor yet." Ray looked at me as if I had committed a crime. "I-it would have ruined the surprise."

Ray went from surprise to anger to simply accepting the inevitable: the love of his life was forgetful.

"I swear I feel fine. But you're happy, I mean, we talked about this in the past, but maybe you were thinking of another time in the future... I..."

Ray's hands took me by my cheeks, cradling my face, to give me a tender kiss.

"I am, I mean, I'm so happy that I'd like to hold you so tight in my arms and show you how excited I am about this." He gave me a subdued smile.

"Ray, what's wrong?"

"What if I don't do it right, being a good father?"

"Well, no father is prepared for this. We'll learn together..."

I could see Ray's face relax at my touch and my words. His hands surrounded my back, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Happy birthday..."

"Thank you..." His whisper was weak, but I felt genuine gratitude.

"Next year, we won't be alone on your next birthday, Mr. Dad."

We stayed hugged for a while. I didn't know what was going through Ray's mind, but whatever it was, I would be with him.

When I set out to eat the cake, I was interrupted by Ray, who carried me to the shower to get ready to go to the hospital. It was funny how from one moment to the next, our small bathroom became a dangerous area in Ray's eyes: slippery floor, sharp-cornered furniture, and a bathtub where I could drown, among many other dangerous things. He took out his phone and started calling to have our entire home redesigned to make it safe for me and our upcoming baby. And may God have mercy on the people in charge if I ever got hurt, no matter how insignificant it was.

If this was going to be my life from now on, it would be a long nine months.

"Your father has gone crazy," I said as I stroked my still flat belly. "But that's how I love him."

[loveinhawkins]

The day before Spring Break ‘84, Eddie has a panic attack so bad he stays locked in a bathroom stall long after the final bell has rung.

And it’s so stupid. It’s not like the whole thing came as a surprise to him: he saw the writing on the wall even back in December, his grades on a continual downward spiral he couldn’t shift.

But he kept on trucking cause he’s still got the mind of a five year old, apparently, hoping against hope that things would just miraculously work out.

Idiot.

He doesn’t have anything worth getting riled up over, no mistreatment to distract him—sure, if it was O’Donnell doing the honours, she might’ve been a little mean about it, but instead he’d been directed to the school receptionist who confirmed the ‘unfortunate news’ with an uninterested if pleasant smile.

She asked if he’d talked to his homeroom teacher about his predicament, and he’d promptly lied through his teeth and said yes, even though he’d rather die than do anything of the sort. Then she went on about his ‘many options’, a prospective timetable for next semester, some forms to fill in, blah, blah, blah.

“Would you want a call home?” she’d said, already reaching for the phone. “We can go through the process with—”

“No, thanks,” Eddie told her quickly. He stuffed the forms into his bag. “I’ve got—I’ll let my uncle know.”

The thought of Wayne having his day off interrupted by such news made him feel nauseous.

Fuck, Wayne. He’ll be waiting for him.

At that realisation, Eddie goes cold then hot then cold again. He stumbles, gets the stall door open eventually, shakes the jittery feeling out of his fingers.

The parking lot’s still busy—students lazily chatting, perched half in, half-out of their cars; all they’ve got to worry about is whether they’re invited to Tina’s or Josh’s or whoever-the-fuck’s—depends on whose parents have unwisely left their house empty for the week.

Eddie’s stayed so long that he’s missed the bus, so he starts the trudge home, grits his teeth at every stab of his boots cutting into his heels—the van isn’t even on his periphery yet, still many months of scraping and saving to go until it’s his.

He’s almost out the school grounds. He crosses the road entirely on autopilot, startles when he realises that he’s had to make a car do an emergency stop.

Steve Harrington waves him on with a tiny little flick of the finger, all breezy, and great, that’s all he fucking needs—Mister Cool being polite to him.

He gives a small nod of thanks before continuing his walk. Keeps his head down, eyes on the sidewalk. Doesn’t bother about whether he steps on any cracks or not; he figures his luck isn’t changing any time soon.

His palms itch. He knows it’s stupid and embarrassingly self-centred of him, but he can’t get rid the thought that everyone’s looking at him, that everyone knows somehow.

Wayne sees him coming from the porch. By the time Eddie reaches him, he’s gone inside and out, re-emerging with a can of cream soda that he cracks open and holds out with one hand.

Eddie can’t take it. He reaches for the contents of his bag, cringing inside at how the papers are already creased, he can’t even manage…

He passes the forms to Wayne. Can’t look him in the eye.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Uncle Wayne,” he says—and mortifyingly, his throat closes up, and that’s all he can get out.

There’s barely a pause before Wayne says, “Eddie. Can you look at me?” When Eddie does, he clicks his tongue quietly at whatever he must find. “Kid, you’re all right. S’not the end of the world.”

Eddie scoffs. “Damn well feels like it.”

Yup, petulant as fuck too. Why not? Might as well crash and burn.

He at least makes sure to shut the front door as apologetically as he can. There’s one singular plate in the sink that he sets about scrubbing even though it hardly needs it.

He hears Wayne come in; he’s reading still, turning the pages over thoughtfully.

Eddie keeps scrubbing.

Wayne’s probably reading the test results. Eddie doesn’t need to see to know the ones that’ll be lingered on.

He couldn’t even pass English. The one thing that was meant to be in the bag, where he could scrape a C-, and he…

What the fuck’s wrong with him? Where’s the sense in being able to write a good campaign on a whim when he can’t even…

“Eddie.” Wayne passes the cream soda can across the counter. “You keep workin’ at the sink any longer, and m’gonna start thinkin’ you’re ‘bout to give me your last will and testament.”

Eddie chuckles. Scrubs at his eyes and obligingly steps away. He picks up the can—the cold metal soothes the itch trapped in his palm.

Wayne folds the papers neatly, corner to corner.

“I’ll help you fill everything in,” he says, matter-of-fact.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll get a pen.”

But Wayne shakes his head. “Not tonight. We’ve got plans, remember?”

Eddie laughs again. ‘Got plans’, according to Wayne, means watching T.V in comfortable silence, Eddie lounging on the couch; Wayne might occasionally read out a crossword clue he’s stuck on before typically solving it on his own, and Eddie would drop off to sleep early, his last impression that of Wayne treading lightly from his armchair, turning the volume down.

It’s a comforting thought.

But he… he should be…

Wayne gives him a knowing look, waves him over to the couch.

The creak of the refrigerator door opening. Wayne’ll be starting dinner soon. Some sorta pasta, probably: it’s tradition, whenever school ends.

“Hey, Ed.”

Eddie curls up on the couch, knees to his chest. “Mm-hmm?”

“It’s fixable, all right? It ain’t a chore. You know that, right?”

Eddie smiles—he sniffles and doesn’t bother scrubbing at his eyes again when they fill up.

“Yeah, I—I know.”

The words are old, a truth he’s had to be reminded of many times; it started back when the world had ended once before, when Eddie, newly moved into Wayne’s trailer, had stammered, “I-I won’t bother you, Uncle Wayne, I swear, you won’t need to—”

And then he learnt the very first rule of the universe—save for the fact that Wayne would always, always be there to help him.

It ain’t a chore, loving you.

[star-writes-sometimes]

blue christmas

dad!tangerine x mum!reader

words: 1.8k

cw: angst to fluff, tangerine is a huge softie

a/n: readers nickname is cherry and they call their daughter peach idk if its a nickname or her real name you decide 

---—---

you were going to kill him.

tangerine had said that he would be gone for two days and that he would be completely safe. one last job before the holidays. 

the job ended up being more difficult than anticipated so now here he was on his way back two days later than he originally said, covered with cuts and bruises. lemon was in the passenger seat of the car with his left hand bandaged up.

“she’s going to kill you.”

“believe me i am well aware.” tangerine gripped the steering wheel tighter making his knuckles turn white. 

it was close to midnight when they finally pulled up at the house. some lights were still on inside, so he knew you were still awake. lemon reached back with his good arm to grab his bag. 

tangerine got out first and walked up to the door with lemon following slightly behind him. he unlocked the door and carefully entered taking off his coat, hanging it on the rack and slipping off his shoes. lemon copied his actions to the best of his ability with one arm and dropped his bag on the floor.

the pair entered the living room and the sight that greets them makes tangerine’s guilt double. you were sitting on the couch with your daughter asleep on your lap, her face illuminated by the television playing the end of nightmare before christmas. she was bundled inside a throw blanket decorated with citrus fruits that lemon got her for her birthday.

when he entered the room you simply glanced in his direction not even bothering to look at him properly before you turned your attention back to the movie ignoring him completely. 

“hi, love.” he tried, looking between his sleeping daughter holding onto your christmas sweater and you running your fingers through her hair. lemon stood beside him shifting around anxiously.

you continued to ignore them instead focusing on the girl snoring lightly on your lap. lemon and tangerine glanced at each. lemon made a motion for tangerine to walk over so he carefully walked towards you until he got in front of you.

he glanced back at lemon who just shrugged. tangerine knelt down and smiled at his daughter before trying to meet your eye. you refused to look at him keeping your gaze firmly on your daughter.

“i’m sorry.” tangerine said softly in that voice he only used with you. you stopped ranking your fingers through your daughter’s hair, “i’m so so sorry darling.”

you finally looked up at him and immediately started frowning at the cuts on his cheek and hairline. “what happened?” you asked.

he smiled, “job went to shit.” he looked down at the sleeping girl, “i missed you both.” 

“she missed you.” you stroked the curve of her nose, “but don’t wake her, she hasn’t been sleeping well.” you grabbed a pillow from the middle of the couch and slowly slid her off your lap and onto the pillow instead. you stood up and brushed past him heading straight for the kitchen where you kept the first aid equipment for when the boys came home injured.

“hey cherry.” lemon said quietly giving a small wave with his injured hand. 

you didn’t respond and instead started pulling out the equipment, “who’s got what injuries?”

“i uh fractured my thumb.” lemon said sheepishly. you motioned for him to sit on one of the kitchen barstools at your kitchen island. you inspected the shoddy bandaging job someone (probably tangerine) did and started unwrapping it to see his thumb properly.

“yeah it’s definitely fractured.” you grabbed some of the heavier duty bandages and started wrapping his thumb properly, “any other injuries i should know about?”

“no.” lemon watched you finish look after his thumb, “thank you.”

“of course.” you’d always take care of them no matter how much they pissed you off. you looked up at lemon and saw how exhausted he looked, “go get some sleep.”

he nods slightly, “yeah goodnight cherry.”

“‘night lemon.” you throw away the old used bandages. you could feel tangerine behind you watching without having to turn around, “what about you?”

“i’m sorry.” 

“yeah, you said that. sit.” you said firmly. he listened and sat in the same seat lemon did. “what about you?” you hand came up to the cut on his cheek and traced over it lightly.

“just the cuts and some bruised ribs.” he knew better than to lie as much as he didn’t want to worry you, “i’m fine sweetheart.”

you pulled out some alcohol wipes and small band aids and started cleaning the cuts on his face. “you said you’d be gone two days.”

“i know-”

“you said you’d be safe.”

“i know love-”

“what was i meant to say to peach?”

he flinched slightly and you couldn’t tell if it was your words or the alcohol wipes you were rubbing over the cut on his hairline. he glanced over to peach, still asleep on the couch. “i’m so sorry.”

you went back to ignoring him and instead started to unbutton his vest and shirt to get a look at his ribs. once his shirt was open you saw the red and purple bruises on his left side and winced slightly at the sight. you moved to the freezer to grab an ice pack. you wrapped it in a tea towel and gave it to him wordlessly to hold on to his ribs while you moved to grab him a glass of water and painkillers.

once he had taken the medication and was firmly holding the ice pack to his ribs you finally looked him in the eyes. “you promised.”

“i know i know i’m so sorry love.” he apologised so sincerely you almost forgave him, but you weren’t giving up that easily.

“i was worried. so was peach, she didn’t sleep at all last night and neither could i.” you started tearing up, the stress of the last few days had finally caught up, “you could’ve been dead for all i knew-” tangerine cut you off by standing up and pulling you into a hug.

you wrapped your arms around his neck and held him close, being careful around his ribs. he held you tightly and you two just stood together. “i missed you so much.”

“i missed you too.” you leaned back slightly and reached up to hold his face, “no more jobs for a month.”

“three months,” he whispered back and leaned down to kiss you.

the kiss started off soft but slowly turned deep and passionate. he kissed you like he hadn’t seen you in year - it felt like he hadn’t. his hands slipped down from your waist to your hips pulling you impossibly closer to him and deepening the kiss.

you pulled away much too soon in tangerines opinion. 

“are you okay? no other injuries?” worry filled your eyes as you scanned him from head to toe.

“stop doing that, i’m fine, i’m back with you.” he smiled.

you leant up to peck his lips again before moving to pack away the first aid equipment. he watched you closely seemingly making up for not seeing you for half week. as soon as everything was packed away you reached up to his neck and pulled him into another kiss.

“can we go to bed? please?” 

he didn’t respond, he just picked you up, holding you onto his good side and started walking towards your shared bedroom, ignoring your small protests. once he reached the foot of your bed, he put you down gently onto the bed and started taking off his pants before joining you.

he laid down next to you and pulled you close, he held you tightly and ran his arm up and down your side while he placed small kisses on your forehead, “i’m sorry.”

“if you apologise one more time i’ll bruise the rest of your ribs.” you looked up at him with a playful glare.

“okay love, i’ll stop.” he grinned into your hair, knowing you had forgiven him at least for now.

— 

tangerine woke up first and gazed down at your sleeping figure. he shifted so one of his arms was free to brush stray hairs out of your face. he moved his hand to stroke your cheek and smiled at your soft snores.

his focus was interrupted by small footsteps entering the room. 

“dad?” peach asked, she had the blanket she slept with wrapped around her shoulders.

“hi baby.” he sits up slightly and smiles at his daughter.

at the conformation that he was really there and she wasn’t imagining it she dropped her blanket and ran to climb up the bed and launch herself into his arms. “you’re back.”

“yeah, sweetheart i’m here.” he sat up completely and pulled her into his lap and hugged her close. she held onto him by his neck and squeezed tightly. they sat like that for a few moments before peach mumbled something into his neck that he couldn’t make out. “what’s that dear?”

“are you leaving again?” she asked quietly and just like that all the guilt he felt last night came rushing back.

“no, peach i’m not leaving. i promise.” he kissed her cheek and adjusted her in his lap, so her side was against his chest and she was facing you. “i missed you and mum so much.”

“we missed you too.” peach lent into his chest.

you had started to wake up and caught the end of their conversation and were grinning up at your family. “good morning.”

they both turned to look at you. “good morning mum.” peach chirped happily.

you sat up and tangerine threw his free arm over your shoulder and pulled you close, “good morning darling.” he gave you a quick kiss knowing how grossed out peach got at your affection, “can i apologise one more time without the risk of dv?”

you roll your eyes, “fine. last one though.”

he kissed your temple, “i am so sorry, to both of you and i will spend the rest of holidays making it up to you.” he kissed peach on the cheek, “what do you want to do today?”

“we are making cookies today.” peach said firmly.

“really?” tangerine raised an eyebrow.

“yeah, it’s christmas eve we have to make cookies for santa.”

“can i make you both breakfast first?”

she dramatically tapped her chin in thought, “hmmm okay but you have to make chocolate chip pancakes.”

“of course anything for my princess.” he kissed her hand, “and of course my queen.” he turned and kissed your hand too then stood up taking peach with him and started carrying her out of the room, “okay pancakes anything else?”

“fruit.” peach replied.

tangerine snorted at that, “fruit? like peaches, cherries, tangerines and lemons.”

“yeah, the best fruits!” she squealed.

they disappeared down the hallway and out of earshot, presumably still discussing breakfast, leaving you to relax in bed for a few minutes longer.

you could kill him next christmas instead.

[megalony]

Bed Rest

This is a new Nick Amaro imagine, requested by anon, I hope you will all like it. Let me know what you think. I'm loving the Nick requests being sent in so far.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread@musicistheway@avada-kedavra-bitch-187@luula@missdreamofendless@bradleybeachbabe@woderfulkawaii@amberpanda99@daggersquadphantom@marvel-and-chicago-fan@angryknightstatesmantrash@minjix@lyjen@kmc1989@itsmytimetoodream@noonenuts@hiireadstuff@ashie-babie@classyunknownlover@jayyeahthatsme@sp1ritssz@dumb-fawkin-bitch@oliverstarksbae@gimatida@heart-35@supernaturalstilinski@stefansalvatoresgf@kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275

Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n) calls Nick at work in a panic, he drops everything to go home and take her to the hospital. Not informing the team where he is going until they realise he's missing.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nick ran a hand through his hair, loosening up the curls and pushing them back on his head into a more tamed fashion. He scratched his nails against his temple as he slowly climbed up the stairs.

He fiddled with his tie and clipped his badge onto his belt while he turned and headed back into the bedroom.

As he made his way over towards the bed, a softness pooled in his eyes and a tepid smile forming on his lips when he reached the bed.

He went down on his knees in front of the bed and leaned his elbow down onto the mattress while his hand moved out towards (Y/n). He was gentle when he delicately brushed his index finger against her temple and pushed a stray hair back behind her ear. His fingertips continued to graze against her temple and for a brief second, he pressed the back of his hand against her skin and his lips faded into a frown. She was flushed.

A small smile quirked his lips up from a frown into a grin when (Y/n)'s hand batted up and grabbed his. She tangled their fingers together and pulled his hand down to her lips instead of her forehead. Her lips pressed a gentle kiss against the back of his knuckles that made adrenaline explode through his chest and send his blood tingling beneath his skin.

He loved the way her lips moulded into a tired yet sickly sweet smile when her half-lidded eyes focused on him and she reeled his hand closer until he had no choice but to press his arm into her chest. She curled around his hand and arm like it was a comfort teddy and her nose brushed against his knuckles.

"Are you okay?" Nick kept his voice quiet as he moved to perch his chin on the end of the bed so they were level while his knees pressed into the bedframe to keep his balance and stop him falling backwards. He brushed his thumb over the back of her hand when she nodded and tried to keep her eyes open but she was tired.

All (Y/n) wanted to do was stay bundled up under the covers and sleep the day away. And Nick wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and stay with her. He wanted to stay home and look after her and make sure she was actually okay, but he needed to go to work. He was on a long shift today and he didn't know whether he would actually get home tonight or if he would end up doing a double shift.

Nick's lips twitched and he grimaced when (Y/n) suddenly dragged her eyes over his frame and realised what he was wearing.

He was in his suit. He had his tie around his neck and his blazer dragged up over his shoulders. And as realisation hit her, (Y/n) looked down at his arm that she was cuddling close to her chest. He was dressed for work.

"You said you weren't working today." Her voice was thick and laced with sleep, but Nick could see in her eyes that she was upset.

"The squad caught a new case last night, I've been roped in. I'm sorry, Carino. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

(Y/n) nodded and pressed another kiss to the back of his hand and it let Nick know that she wasn't angry or upset. She knew his job was demanding and she also knew that Nick would swap a shift in the next few days so he could still have a day off with her and be home with her.

Nick had only agreed to this shift because (Y/n) had been feeling a lot better yesterday than she did the previous few days. He had told Olivia he couldn't pull double shifts and he had to go home at the end of the shift because (Y/n) wasn't well.

She was suffering badly with morning sickness and Nick needed to be home with her and make sure she was alright.

He had been extremely close to calling in sick yesterday but (Y/n) seemed to be more alive and alert in the afternoon when they spoke on the phone. And she managed to eat tea and sleep through the night without getting up to be sick which was a big improvement. She wasn't at work today and Nick knew a day in bed would do her good.

He reached across for the sick bowl near the end of the bed and held it up to show her before he put it down on the floor by his feet, whispering a quiet "Just in case." He wanted her to have it close by on the chance she did feel sick and couldn't make it to the toilet quick enough.

"Will you be alright if I go to work?"

A lopsided smile pulled at (Y/n)'s lips when she finally let go of her husband's hand and reached out to brush her thumb against his lower lip and down his freshly shaved chin.

"Yeah, they need you, officer Amaro. Just tell me if you're not coming home, please."

Nick thanked God for how understanding (Y/n) was. She knew his job was tiring and impacted his mental health and how it could strain him. She knew he got roped into double shifts and long stints and he got put on the line a lot. And (Y/n) never judged or quarrelled or argued about it because it was Nick's job and she understood.

As long as he told her if he wasn't coming home and if he still took time off to be with her, and they had their anniversary or birthdays off, she wouldn't complain.

And Nick had been there at her scans with her every time and he took her to her appointments. She couldn't ask for anything more.

(Y/n) didn't want Nick to have to call in and leave the station short-handed when he didn't have to. She was okay, she wouldn't be moving about much today anyway. She felt much better, she was mostly tired. Her headache had gone, her stomach was settled and she was even hungry this morning which was a big improvement. All she needed was a day in bed to recover and she would be back up and moving about again tomorrow.

(Y/n) reached her hands up to cup Nick's jaw when he leaned over the bed and stole a kiss from her lips. She could taste the morning coffee on his tongue and feel his lips quirking into a grin against her when he slid his hand beneath the cover and pressed his palm against her stomach. His fingers glided over her stomach that was just starting to get round now she had passed the twenty-week mark.

His touch made her shiver and his cold hand sent her stomach jumping which only made Nick grin against her lips and bite down on her bottom lip that he sucked between his teeth when he pulled back.

"Ring me later, let me know how you feel." He didn't care that he would be at work or how busy they would be. Nick didn't even care if he was in the middle of an interview when (Y/n) rang him. He just wanted her to ring him so he could hear her voice and know that she felt okay.

"I will. Love you."

"I love you too," He muttered against her lips and pecked her lips again and again like she was a drug he was addicted to. He kept his fingers tickling over her stomach just to feel her squirm and wriggle as his hands were still cold and she was wrapped up in warmth.

She brushed her thumb against his jaw before she reached up and dragged her fingers through his hair. Ruffling his curls and skewing his raven black hair until he finally pulled away from her lips with a groan.

"Bye, Carino."

***

Nick loosened the tie around his neck and threw his blazer over the back of his desk chair. He let himself slump down into the seat with a thud and tilted his head back until he was staring up at the ceiling of the squad room.

He was tired- no, he was exhausted.

He wanted to go home. He had been at the station for almost two days straight now without going home or getting more than an hour of sleep in the back room. And that meant he hadn't been home to see his wife, either.

The only solace Nick has was that he had been able to take a few breaks and call (Y/n) to make sure she was alright. From what he'd gathered, she spent most of the day sleeping yesterday and had livened up in the evening. Which made Nick feel even worse because he had to tell her he couldn't come home yet. He had to pull a double, and then it didn't look like he was going home anytime soon either.

They had found two new victims to interview, process and go over their statements and coroborate the facts. Now they were trying to get their perp into an interview and get a statement without making much of a fuss or causing a scene.

He reached out for his mug on the desk but he sighed when he grabbed it. The mug was cold. Time had passed him by since he made the coffee he hadn't found time to drink.

He pushed up and took his cup across the squad room to the small drinks station at the back and flicked the kettle on. Tipping his mug in the sink. It probably wouldn't be worth making another cup, he only got the chance to drink or eat when he was in the car on the way to find a victim or talk to someone. But he was tired and he needed to refuel.

His hands braced on the counter and he arched his back out, letting his head drop down but his eyes barely closed before he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

A grin lit up his face when he saw (Y/n)'s name and picture light up his phone screen. Just what he needed to lighten his mood and wake himself up.

"Hey Carino, everything alright?"

"I- I don't know."

Nick straightened up almost immediately and the smile disappeared from his lips. What did that mean? Why didn't she know if everything was alright? Had something happened, had she gone out and felt ill?

His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck and he turned round to lean his hips back against the counter.

"Why, what do you mean baby? What's wrong?"

"My stomach really hurts, like, really bad cramps… and I… I'm bleeding. I don't, Nick I might be having a miscarriage."

All the blood drained down to his feet and he felt like his stomach had dropped down through the floor to the reception below. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. His lungs shrivelled up and stopped working and his weight leaned back on the counter to prop himself up so he didn't collapse down onto the floor.

She wasn't well. (Y/n) was ill and Nick could hear the panic building up in her voice.

(Y/n) didn't know what to do. She had never been in this position before, this was their first baby and up to now the only problem (Y/n) had had was suffering with bad morning sickness. But throughout the day as she had run some errands and tried to tidy the house, she started to feel worse.

Then the pains started as if she was having period cramps that made her knees buckle and had her stomach in knots, clenching and unclenching every few minutes. When (Y/n) went to the bathroom, she started to cry when she saw blood in her underwear.

It was such a relief that Nick answered the phone on the first try.

"Nick?" Her voice quivered as she wiped her sleeve beneath her eyes and tried not to sob down the line.

"Where are you, baby?"

"Home, I called the doctor, t-they said I have to go down to the emergency room, now." The receptionist had spoken to the doctor and (Y/n) had cried when they said she had to go straight to the hospital to get checked out because she quite possibly could be losing the baby.

But she couldn't go down without telling Nick first and letting him know what was going on. Even if he couldn't get off work right away, as long as he knew, (Y/n) would be relieved because she knew he would come to her as soon as he could.

"I'm coming to get you. I'm on my way now and then I can take you to the hospital, okay?" Nick pushed off the counter and sprinted over to his desk. He slung his blazer over his arm, pocketed his keys and bolted out the squad room before anyone noticed he had gone.

He would worry about telling the team where he had gone later. His wife needed him now, and he had to go home.

Nick winced when he heard (Y/n) cry down the line. Did she really think he wouldn't drop everything and come home to get her? Did she think Nick cared at all if Olivia told him he couldn't go? It didn't matter how busy they were or what case they were working on, family came first and (Y/n) was Nick's whole world.

He knew Olivia would understand. She knew family came first even if they couldn't always go home straight after a shift or if they had to stay late and go to court and come to work on short notice. In matters like these, work was not a priority.

"Y-you're coming home?"

(Y/n) felt the tears falling faster as she held the phone tighter to her ear as if it would make a difference in his response time. She wanted him to come home. (Y/n) wanted Nick to come home because he promised if ever anything was wrong he would be there. He made sure for all the important dates he was off work and he wanted to be there for every aspect of this pregnancy.

Even if that meant being there if they lost the baby. Nick was going to be there and look after (Y/n) and he was taking (Y/n) to the doctors now so he could try and keep her and the baby safe.

"Wh- of course I'm coming home Carino, you need me." He was already in his car and slammed the door shut.

"I'm scared."

"You don't need to be scared, Carino. Five minutes and I'll be there, you're gonna be fine."

Time seemed to be on Nick's side when he hit every green light going home. He parked the worst he'd ever parked on the edge of their drive and headed inside. He was about to call out but he found that he didn't need to. Nick expected (Y/n) to be upstairs, he wasn't quite sure why, but when he passed through the hall, he found her in the living room.

He didn't like what he saw. (Y/n) stood with one hand gripping the back of the sofa to keep herself upright, and the other hand on her stomach. She looked like she couldn't quite hold herself upright and when he saw the tears traced down her face, he felt even worse.

"Oh, baby. Okay, let's go get you checked out." Reaching over, Nick curved his arm around (Y/n)'s waist and clamped his hand down on her hip.

He reeled her into his side and took some of her weight for her to try and make it easier. He felt her hand scrunch up in his shirt and her other hand stayed curved beneath her stomach.

Tears continued to fall down the bridge of her nose and (Y/n) turned her head to the left to bury into Nick's shirt. She felt like if she kept her arm tight around her stomach, she might just be able to hold the baby in place. She might be able to stop her body from evicting her baby if she held onto them tight enough and prayed enough.

They wanted this baby. (Y/n) didn't think she had done anything wrong, she had done everything she was supposed to do and she had felt fine until today. Why was her body doing this to her?

When Nick eased her into the car, (Y/n) curled up against the door. Her knees pulled up towards her stomach and she sank down in the seat until she could barely look out the window. She just wanted to disappear. And when she felt Nick reach across and place his hand on her stomach, a whimper left her lips and she shuddered.

One arm stayed around her stomach and even though she looked out the window, she moved her other hand to keep hold of Nick's wrist. She didn't want him to let go. Not yet.

Nick didn't like how silent (Y/n) was.

He didn't know what to do or what to say to her when she seemed to shut down on him.

But he was relieved she didn't push away from or brush off his touch. After he told the receptionist the situation and moved to sit down next to (Y/n) in the waiting area, he was relieved when she tucked herself into him. Her face buried down in his chest and her arms wound around his torso.

He began to smooth his hand up and down her back while his other arm looped around her shoulders and he smothered his lips against her temple.

"(Y/n) Amaro."

She kept herself hidden away in Nick's chest and let him guide her down the hall and into the cubicle after the nurse. She let Nick walk her backwards until the back of her knees hit the bed in the middle of the room. And he didn't give her chance to move. He let her hands stayed curled around his shirt while his hands moved down to hold the back of her thighs and he carefully lifted her up onto the bed.

He smothered his lips against her temple, whispering a quiet "Come on," to get her to pull out of his arms and sit on the bed properly.

Nick stayed stood at her side, letting her hands curl around his arm and pin it to her chest again so she could press her lips against his bicep over his sleeve. His right arm curled around her back so his hand could smooth up and down her lower back between her hips. And his lips moved against the back of her head while he looked across at the nurse.

"Okay hun, you had some bleeding, has it stopped yet?" She looked between (Y/n) and the file in her hands she got from reception. As soon as (Y/n) told the nurse on the phone what was happening, they added notes to her file to send across to the emergency room.

"I think it's stopped now," Her cheek pressed against Nick's arm while she wriggled in discomfort.

"And the pains?"

"Still happening," (Y/n) murmured, moving one hand to her stomach as if to prove her point. Her lower stomach was cramping and it just felt like a period pain moving around her abdomen. But knowing that she shouldn't be in any pain made her feel even worse and seemed to make the pain feel ten times worse.

"Okay, I'm going to check your vitals, then we can do a scan and see what's going on in there."

(Y/n) stayed still and compliant as the nurse clipped an pulse monitor onto her finger and found a blood pressure cuff in the drawer. The tight band around her arm made her feel lightheaded, but she stayed silent and tried to ignore the tension it caused to run down to her fingertips.

She could feel Nick leaning over to take a look and (Y/n) knew instantly by the way he took a sharp breath that her blood pressure wasn't where it was supposed to be. Nick had taken his own pressure enough to know that (Y/n)'s was currently elevated which wasn't a good indicator.

(Y/n) sank her teeth down into her lower lip and leaned back but she could feel the tears welling up again when the nurse kindly lifted her shirt. It didn't hurt when the nurse pressed her fingertips in various places over her abdomen, but it made her feel worse.

"Let's take a look."

Nick kept (Y/n)'s left hand tightly held in his while his right hand moved to rest on the back of the bed so he could lean over. He watched intently as she placed the gel over (Y/n)'s stomach and began to sonogram.

Panic bubbled up in (Y/n)'s chest and she tugged sharply on Nick's hand as she tilted her head to look up at him.

"T-there's a heartbeat." She mumbled in astonishment.

She felt Nick's hand move to cradle the back of her head and his lips quirked into a small, tense smile before he kissed her temple lovingly. He knew this was a good sign, but it wasn't always a perfect indicator. (Y/n) could still be going through the process of a miscarriage or lose the baby even if they had a heartbeat.

But (Y/n) had been prepared not to hear anything. She thought she was going to see a blurred image on the screen and then soon feel the baby be evicted from her stomach.

"That's good, right?" Nick looked across at the nurse as he tried to read her expression. He was good at reading faces and right now she looked more relaxed than he'd expected which was another good sign.

"It is… you've had a placental abruption, the placenta has moved away from the womb lining which isn't good. But baby is still where we want them to be and heartbeat is steady. You're not experiencing a miscarriage."

(Y/n) turned her head and buried her face into Nick's arm as he kept kissing the top of her head. He reeled her closer to his chest and grinned against her hair. It felt like a weight had been lifted off both their shoulders. This morning they hadn't been worried about losing their baby and now after a moment of panic, they could go back to feeling that way again.

"You've lost a little amniotic fluid, but as long as you don't lose anymore, you should be fine. But you'll need to be on bed rest."

"For how long?"

The apprehension was clear in (Y/n)'s voice and she gratefully took the paper towel the nurse handed her so she could clean her stomach and pull her shirt back down. (Y/n) didn't want to be on bed rest. What was she supposed to do? She would become bored within two days.

"Indefinitely, I'm afraid. You need a few days here in observation for a start, then if all is good you can go home. You need bed rest and light duties, no heavy lifting. Your next appointments will determine how long bed rest lasts."

(Y/n) groaned, she knew what that meant. The rest of this pregnancy was going to be spent in bed.

She couldn't spend the next four months sat in bed. She truly couldn't do that. (Y/n) couldn't be laid up in bed, bored out of her head wondering what to do with herself. She would end up going on a cleaning spree around the house or tidying up or trying to do some yoga or something strange. She wouldn't be able to stay in bed.

"But I can't-"

"Hey, if the midwife says bed rest, then you ain't leaving that bed. Got it?" Nick cupped (Y/n)'s chin in his hand and tilted her head back until she was looking up at him with those doe eyes that always made him melt. But not this time.

She found herself nodding even though she didn't fully agree. (Y/n) wouldn't go against Nick, it wouldn't be worth the headache and the fierce side she would envoke if she dared go against a midwife's orders.

"Okay, I'll get you admitted onto the ward."

Nick leaned down to peck (Y/n)'s lips, unable to stop from grinning against her but he pulled back when he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. "It's Liv, I won't be a sec." He whispered against her lips, kissing her again before he turned and headed out into the corridor.

He couldn't exactly ignore her when the team must have realised by now that he wasn't in the station and he hadn't told anyone where he had gone.

"Hey Liv."

"Nick, where'd you rush off to? You didn't tell anyone you we're heading off, is something wrong?"

"Uh," He scratched the back of his head and looked around the corridor as if the right words would suddenly pop out at him. "I had an emergency… (Y/n)'s not well, she's had a complication and she's gotta stay in the hospital for a few days. I had to bring her down here, I know I should have said something but when she called I just-"

"Hey, slow down. It's okay, you need to be with her. Is the baby okay?"

"Yeah, yeah the baby's alright." He found himself smiling even though all the air was disappearing from his lungs. They had had a lucky escape. A few hours later, a bit more bleeding or more cramps and they might not have been this lucky.

"Good, well take as long as you need and tell me when you're ready to come back. And you look after her, got it?"

***

"Where do you think you're going?"

A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine and she froze halfway down the stairs when Nick's voice rumbled through the air. Leaning to the right, (Y/n) carefully peered over the bannister and looked down at her husband.

He was leant up against the bottom of the stairs, one leg crossed in front of the other with his arms folded over his chest. And his head was tilted back to look up at her.

She didn't think he would be home this early. And she didn't hear him come in, but he had already kicked off his shoes, removed his overcoat and blazer and tie. Leaving him in his starched black trousers and creased white button up. Her eyes followed him as he pushed off the bannister and moved round to stand at the bottom of the stairs. Arching his back out and tapping his fingers against the rail while he looked up at his wife's sheepish expression.

"…Into the kitchen?" (Y/n) took two steps down before she stopped again when Nick started to walk up the stairs towards her. There was no way she would be able to squeeze past him.

"Funny, I thought the bed was still in the bedroom?" He pointed to the top of the stairs and climbed up the rest of the steps until he was stood one step down from (Y/n). The higher step made them equal in height but when (Y/n) looped her arms around his neck and tried to steal a kiss, Nick tilted his head back.

"I wanted a drink." (Y/n) tangled her fingers in the back of Nick's hair and tugged until he relented and gave her a kiss.

But she gasped when his hands grabbed the back of her thighs and he hoisted her up as swiftly as anything. He looped her legs around his waist so she was sat low on his hips and he began walking back up the stairs with their lips still attached and her fingers knotting into his hair making him groan against her.

"Baby, the kitchen's the other way." She groaned softly into his lips and pulled his lower lip between her teeth just to feel his chest vibrate with a deep growl.

"And you're going back to bed. Bed rest means you go to bed, and you stay there to rest. Not wander about the house Carino."

Nick pushed the bedroom door open with his foot and walked in, digging his fingers into her bare thighs before he reached the bed. He leaned over and carefully eased her down onto the bed and arched over when she kept her legs curved around his hips, refusing to release him.

"I've been resting all day, I still need to move about, baby."

"Hm, somehow I don't quite believe you."

"Nick…" She groaned out his name until he was shivering between her thighs. "I can't stay in bed forever, and the baby's fine, they like it when I move around, they won't settle when I sit in bed all day."

"The baby is fine because you're resting, Carino and that's what you'll keep doing. So while I'm home, you're not leaving this bed. I don't care if I have to tie you down." It wasn't going to work trying to worm her way around him or tease and suck up until he caved.

Nick wasn't taking any chances. He was finally going back to work, although he made sure he wasn't pulling any double shifts so he could be home to make sure (Y/n) was alright. He wanted her to stay in bed and rest because it was what she had been told to do. The nurse said in uncertain terms that (Y/n) couldn't do any heavy lifting or straining, if the placenta moved even a tiny bit, they might end up in preterm labour and Nick wasn't risking that.

(Y/n) flopped her head back on the bed and pushed her heels into Nick's back until he took the hint. He leaned forward and knelt up on the bed between her thighs, moving his forearms to rest either side of her head so his fingers could tangle in her hair and brush across her cheek.

He leaned most of his weight onto his knees and his left arm so his right hand could slide down between them and move to slide under her shirt and go across her stomach.

"That doesn't sound too bad." (Y/n) mumbled softly against his lips, brushing her thumbs down his neck.

She wouldn't object to his methods of subduing her.

[writeforfandoms]

Roardin

Find my CoD Masterlist

Title is the song “Roardin” by Marcela Bovio. Highly recommend listening to it before/during/after reading. 

This idea started as musing on this headcanon from the amazing mind of @soapskneebrace​ and she gave me permission to run with it. And then, uh. This happened. I... have no idea how. This one got away from me. There was an entire subplot that I cut. Gaz wasn’t even supposed to be here BUT HE IS. Look idk I’m just gonna yeet this and run. 

Soap x plus size f!reader

You’ve loved Johnny for a long time, but you’re convinced the feeling is not reciprocated. So you keep it to yourself and, well, at least he’s still your friend. 

Warnings: Swearing, some very unhealthy mental state on reader’s part, they’re both idiots, idiots to lovers. 

Word count: 7.5k

The first time you met Johnny was at a party. Your friend Emily had promised you it would be a lowkey thing. 

So of course there were twenty people. 

You ended up sitting on a chair, watching Emily flirt with one of the others. You were trying not to be bitter, but it was hard when you felt so alone. You didn’t know anyone but Emily, and you weren’t great in big social situations like this. So you sat and watched people, holding a cup of beer that was slowly growing warm in the balmy night. 

Someone dropped down into the chair next to you, and you blinked at him. He was handsome, dark hair kept short, blue eyes bright. 

“Doin’ alright?” he asked, smile kind, gaze focused on you. 

You were so startled you blinked at him, owlish. And then you nodded. “Yeah, just, uh.” You shrugged, ducking your head a little. “More people than I anticipated.” 

He nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Aye,” he murmured. “Me too.” 

"Who are you here with?" You glanced at him, cautiously optimistic. So far he was nice. 

"Eric, the blonde over there." He nodded in the correct direction. "You?"

"Emily." You looked around for her. 

And, as if summoned by her name, she appeared at your shoulder. "I don't think we've met," she said, flirty smile in place, holding out a hand to your conversation partner. 

"John." He shook her hand and then looked at you. But you were too slow to respond, too startled - Emily had already moved in, smile bright as she started talking to him. 

And you leaned back in your chair, feeling frumpy and boring in comparison. You weren't good at this sort of thing. You weren't the most personable person, you couldn't stop and talk with anyone. You didn't have the same kind of social battery that Emily did. 

So you mentally wrote the night off as a loss and contented yourself with being on the outskirts of this conversation. Which was becoming more flirting by the moment. 

Yeah. You were definitely sidelined, especially when you noticed Emily shifting closer to him, tossing her hair back behind her shoulder, eyes bright and confident. 

Maybe you'd get lucky and she'd drop you off at home before she went home with him, or something. 

After half an hour of listening to them flirt, you'd had enough. You stood, touching the back of Emily's shoulder with two fingers to get her to pay attention. 

"I'm gonna get a ride home," you said, gaze flitting to John and then down to the floor. "It was nice to meet you." 

If he responded, you didn't hear it, already heading for the door. 

You wouldn't be missed. 

You would have liked to talk to John a bit more before Emily stole him away, but you knew you didn't hold a candle to her. In so many ways. 

You were used to playing second fiddle to her. 

You honestly never expected to see John again. Not unless Emily nabbed him as more than just a bed partner for the night, but you weren't sure that would happen. 

So when someone sat across from you at the coffee shop, you felt yourself stiffen and prepare to make an excuse to leave. 

Until your gaze met brilliant blue again. 

"Oh," you murmured, blinking at him. "Hi." 

"Hi." His smile was warm but still soft, and a little bashful. "Hope ye don't mind, spotted you as I got m' drink." 

"Not at all." You smiled, a little thrill zinging down your spine. He'd actually chosen to sit with you! "Just unexpected, that's all. How are you?" 

"Oh, dandy. Enjoying my time off while it lasts." He winked, leaving you little doubt as to how he was enjoying. "You?"

You shrugged. "Wishing I knew more languages to cuss out this paper," you said, light and cheerful. 

“School?” he asked, leaning a little closer. 

“Mmhm.” You sighed at your laptop. “It’s annoying.” 

He chuckled. “Anything I can help with?” 

“That depends,” you said slowly, blinking at him. “Know anything about Paradise Lost?” 

“Not really. Had to read a bit of it, but not much.” He looked sheepish now.

“Don’t worry about it.” You shut your laptop. “I’ll figure it out later. I’m an expert procrastinator at this point.”

He snorted and then grinned at you. “Oh, aye? Not one to get things done early?” 

“I try, and then things happen, and then I end up doing them last minute.” It was your turn to look sheepish now, shoulders hunching a little. 

He laughed, playing with his coffee. “Well, you get it all done.”

“I do.” You relaxed a little at the lack of judgment. “Are you studying?” 

He shook his head a little. “Military.”

“Ah.” You blinked. It made sense, looking at him. “What do you think of it so far?” 

He made a complicated expression. “I’m glad I joined,” he said, firm and sure. “There are… ups and downs. Like any job.” His lips twisted. 

“Understandable,” you agreed, leaning back in your seat. “You’re on leave, then? How much longer do you have?”

“A few more days.” He shrugged, watching you from under his lashes. 

“I hope you get to enjoy.” Your smile was small but genuine. Your phone buzzed on the table, and you looked down to check it, making a face. “Dammit. I’m sorry, I have to go, apparently my apartment is flooding?” 

He blinked at you but nodded. “Good luck,” he said, watching you shove your laptop into your backpack. 

You murmured your thanks to him and took off. Well. There went your mood. And also some good company. 

You didn’t let yourself really register the disappointment, though, pushing past it and shoving it down to think about never. 

Surely, that would be it. He only had a few days of leave left, he’d said so himself. There was no way you were going to see him again. 

You saw him again. 

Normally you didn’t really go out, preferring to stay in the quiet solace of your room. But your room was temporarily off limits while repairs happened from the flooding, and you were all off-kilter, so you decided to go out at the invitation of a classmate to a local pub. 

Dinner, you said. And one drink. Your classmate (a really nice girl named Claire) agreed eagerly. (Which surprised you - you were too much of a wet blanket for people to get excited about going anywhere with you.) 

The two of you sat at the pub and chatted. It was nice. It was easy. You had some musical tastes in common, which helped. 

You both settled your bills and then she waved at someone. “A couple friends of mine are here, do you want to come meet them?” she asked, happy and eager. 

You turned to look, and blinked when those same blue eyes met yours across the room. What were the odds? You recognized the blonde next to him - Eric. From the party.

What a small world.

“Sure,” you agreed shyly, ducking your head briefly. But you gamely followed Claire over to the table, introducing yourself and settling into your seat, shoulders hunched to try to take up less room. 

For a little while, you just sat and listened to the others, content to fade into the background. But slowly, John nudged you into adding your opinion. It was odd, but in a nice way. You didn’t mind. 

And when you finally checked your phone and realized the time, you made your excuses. You had to get up in the morning. 

“Do you want me to drive you back?” Claire asked, a little concerned.

“Nah, it’s not that far to campus.” You smiled. “I’ll see you on Tuesday, yeah?”

“Of course!” She beamed at you. 

To your surprise, though, John stood when you did. “I’ll walk you back,” he murmured. “And I’ve got a plane to catch in the morning.” 

“Right.” You grabbed your things and waved once more to the table before you headed out, John a few respectful steps behind you. The air was chilly as you stepped out of the pub, and you paused a moment to adjust. “I’m okay to walk back on my own if you’d rather just grab a ride,” you offered, looking at John. 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I offered,” he pointed out. “How’s the, uh, Milton thing coming?”

“Oh, I’m still procrastinating,” you admitted, ducking your head as you started walking. “My current plan is to bang it out on Saturday.”

He tipped his head back to laugh, beautiful and bright. “Aye, that’s a plan,” he agreed, fingers just touching your elbow as you crossed a street. 

You took a deep breath, nerves fluttering in your stomach. “You know… If you ever got bored… you could text me sometime.” The offer came out smaller than you intended, and you winced at yourself. No wonder nobody bothered with you. 

“Sure,” he agreed, so quickly you lifted your head to blink at him. He was already pulling out his phone. “What’s your number?” 

You rattled it off, and moments later your phone buzzed in your pocket with a new text. 

“Ah’m not always the best at texting,” he said, a hint of nerves entering his voice. “But, uh.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “Like I said, if you’re bored or want to chat or whatever. I get it.” 

His smile relaxed at that and he nodded. 

“Well, this is me.” You stopped outside the residential area, turning to look at him. “Thanks for walking me back.”

“My pleasure.” He shifted a little closer to you, eyes bright. 

For a moment, you two simply stood and looked at each other, the air thick between the two of you. Then a door slammed and loud laughter echoed from an open window. 

“Have a good flight, and stay safe, okay?” You smiled at him, one hand reaching out and then retracting. 

But he held out his arms and lifted one eyebrow in silent question. You smiled and stepped into him, hugging him. And oh, he was warm and he was a good hugger. 

You stepped back before things edged into longer than socially acceptable, and his hands slid from your back. 

“I’ll text you,” he promised. “Good luck with your paper.”

You nodded and let him go, waving briefly before you turned to head to your building. 

Honestly, you half-expected him to fall through. It was easy to not expect much of people, a well-developed defense mechanism. 

It was hard to be disappointed when you didn’t expect anything. 

So when he texted you the next day to say he was back on base, you were pleasantly surprised. 

And he didn’t stop texting, either. Sometimes he wouldn’t for days or weeks, but he always got back to you when he could, hours long conversations making up for the necessary silences. 

You didn’t see him in person though for months. When he finally had leave again, he was busy - going out with friends, hiking, playing football. 

You even managed to see him a few times. Out at a bar one night, Emily once again dragging you out. He talked you into going hiking with him and a few of his buddies. (That one you regretted a little, feeling self-conscious around them.) 

But you began to notice more about him.

John had a lot of friends, and he seemed to be pretty casual with most of them. Friendly bumps or hugs were normal for him. Despite how often he went out, he never arrived to events with a date, always on his own.

But he often left with someone on his arm. Often a girl - one time a guy. (Thinking very briefly about that had left you warm and flustered for the rest of the night.) Emily went home with him a second time, and she gushed to you about him the next day.

But there was no expectation of more. Just sex.

You had no idea how they did it, but, more power to them. As long as everybody was happy with that arrangement, you weren’t going to rain on their parade. 

Months turned into years, and you watched as some of his friends drifted away due to time and distance and whatever else. Most of your friends were transitory, in and out of your life. You watched as he changed his hair, growing out a single stripe for a mohawk. You watched as his confidence settled into something proven without being boastful. You watched as he hid demons and nightmares behind smiles, as his job took him around the globe. (Which you only knew because he’d text you sometimes about the views or the weather. Never anything identifying, but you hoarded those dregs of information anyway.)

You always sent him a birthday text, even if he didn’t respond to it for days. He often missed yours, which you brushed off. But he didn’t miss holidays, either showing up a few days beforehand (he always spent the actual day with his family) or sending you gifts. 

Your friendship had settled into something deeper, something that lasted. Something that withstood the time apart and the silences and the rigors of his job. 

You, however, stubbornly ignored that your feelings ran deeper. That you cared for him, too much. More than you should. More than he cared for you, certainly. But you held your silence and ignored the longing and did your best to simply be there and be the best friend you could be. 

Which, really, was easy in some ways. The two of you just got on, had from the very start. Arguments were rare between the two of you, and you were always able to pick right back up where you left off around his absences. 

It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable pattern, but it was a pattern, one you were content to hold. It was enough to be in his orbit, to circle around him. It was enough. 

So seeing a text from him made you smile, even in the slurry slushy rain-sleet of December. 

Gonna be home for three weeks. You got time?

You read the message twice. Three weeks was longer than normal, even with the holidays around the corner. Maybe he needed some extra time to recover from something? But you could find out, you didn’t need to push now. 

For you? Always.

Well. That had probably been too honest. But it had been months since you’d seen him, and he was often silent on top secret missions. So, yeah, too honest but undeniable. 

Should be back in two days. See you soon.

You hummed and put it out of your mind for now. 

But if you ended up cleaning your apartment… well. That was just in case, really. And it needed to be done. So there.

(Even in the privacy of your own mind, you weren’t fooling anybody.) 

Two days later, your phone started buzzing with an incoming call, and you picked up with a grin. 

“Not dead yet?” you teased gently in what had become nearly a routine for the two of you.

He chuckled, the sound soothing the ball of anxiety that sat in your chest every time he went silent. “Not yet,” he agreed. “How are ye, sweets?” 

“Oh, the usual.” You smiled a little. “You?”

“Mandatory leave,” he answered on a sigh. “Got some company, though. One o’ my mates is here for a week ‘fore going home to his family.” 

“Sounds like fun,” you agreed, glancing at your calendar. “Work is still the same for me - any time after 5:30 or so I’m open, or weekends.” 

“No plans?” Johnny asked as gently as he could. 

You huffed. “No. No plans.”

The words sat between you, heavy and thick, for three heartbeats. Then Johnny clicked his tongue. 

“Won’t do,” he said with cheer that felt a little forced to you. “I’ll fix ye right up!” 

You laughed softly. “Just whatever you have time for,” you assured him. “I’m fine.”

“Ye’re home alone with reruns on doin’ nothin’ exciting,” Johnny predicted, and damn it all, he knew you too well. 

“That’s neither here nor there.” Your gaze skittered down to the floor. 

“Then come out with Gaz and I. Tomorrow. We can meet at our pub.”

Your lips twitched entirely against your will. “What time?”

“After work.”

You huffed a little laugh. “Alright,” you agreed. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow.” 

“Excellent.” The grin was clear in his voice. “See ye soon, sweets.”

“See you soon,” you agreed, reluctant to hang up but knowing you had to go. Well. More like you had to let him go. But you made yourself hang up. 

Now you just had to get through work and you’d be able to see arguably your favorite person on the planet. And one of his friends. Who also worked with him. 

No big deal.

You still showed up at the pub after work, looking around for Johnny. 

All you saw was a bright grin and that mohawk before arms grabbed you in a tight hug, absolutely uncaring of the rest of the pub. You squeaked as Johnny picked you up for a quick twirl, something you protested feebly. You were not some teeny dainty thing, you didn’t want him hurting himself. 

“There’s my sweets!” he crowed, finally setting you down. “Come meet Gaz.” Keeping hold of your hand, he led you over to a table in the back, where a dark-skinned man was already sitting waiting. “Gaz, this is my sweets.” 

You rolled your eyes and gave Gaz your actual name, holding out your hand for him to shake. “It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“You too.” He smiled at you, easy and warm. “This idiot doesn’t shut up about you.” 

“Oh really?” You turned to Johnny with a teasing smile. 

Johnny shrugged, shameless. “Hard not to when ye send me packages,” he said, ushering you into a seat and finally releasing your hand. “I’ll grab this round, aye?” And he was gone before you could protest. 

You huffed a little laugh, shaking your head. “I hope he actually shares and doesn’t just dangle the packages in front of you,” you said, grinning. 

“Sometimes,” Gaz said with an easy shrug. “Sometimes he just hoards things.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like him,” you agreed, fondness bleeding into your tone, even as you turned a little to look for him. He was easy to spot, leaning up against the bar, probably flirting with the admittedly very pretty bartender (who looked mostly amused). The sight didn’t even hurt (much) - you were just happy to see him. 

“How long have you known him?” Gaz sounded curious, and you snapped your gaze back to him.

“Oh, years now.” You smiled. “Met him when I was in college and got dragged out to a party.” 

He chuckled. “Haven’t gotten rid of him since?” he teased, though the way he looked at you was sharp, assessing. 

“Why in the world would I do that?” You shook your head, amused. “He’s a good friend. One of the best.” 

Gaz nodded slowly but didn’t have a chance to say more before Johnny was back, putting down drinks in front of you. 

“Here ye are,” he said with a grin and a dramatic wave of his hand. “Take yer pick, sweets.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Gaz grumbled good-naturedly, making you laugh even as you picked your drink. 

“Something like that,” you agreed, grinning. “So, what was your favorite thing this time?” You took a sip of your drink, watching Johnny go off about some cafe he’d found on assignment in some other country, and how much it had annoyed someone he called “LT” when he stopped there for every meal one day. 

From there, the rest of the night was easy. You didn’t drink much, aware you still had to work the next day, but you relaxed. Gaz was funny and nice and interesting, much like Johnny. You ended up giving him your number at the end of the night and promising to send him packages too, so Johnny wouldn’t be the only one having fun.

Johnny’s overly dramatic clasping of his heart sent you into peals of laughter again. 

And when you needed to go, both men stood to see you out, offering to walk you home, which you gently turned down. 

“You gonna come tomorrow?” Johnny asked hopefully. “Arranging a football match.” 

“If you want me there, I’ll be there,” you agreed. “Just text me where and when.”

“Copy that.” He smiled, warm and beautiful under the street lights, everything you wanted and couldn’t have. 

“See you tomorrow, Johnny.” But you couldn’t resist darting in for one more hug, just one. Just to get a whiff of him to take home with you. He barely had time to respond before you were pulling back, bright smile in place as you took off for home.

You couldn’t let yourself linger or you’d do something damn foolish. 

To your surprise, Gaz checked in to ask if you got home safe. He really was sweet. You reassured both him and Johnny that all was well before you went to bed. 

You had plenty of time to get to the football game after work, since most of the players also had to work. You’d brought an extra sweater, in case you stayed out later than you meant to and got cold, and found a place to sit and wait. 

“Sweets!” Johnny jogged up to you, beaming, Gaz not far behind. “Been waitin’ long?”

“Just a few minutes.” You smiled up at him. “Did you two keep out of mischief today?”

“Sweets, I am hurt! Destroyed! Me, mischief?” Johnny pressed a hand to his chest, staggering back two steps with an exaggerated look of hurt. 

“She knows you too well,” Gaz drawled, and ducked the swat aimed at his head. 

“I take that as a no,” you said, laughing, watching the two tussle. “Save some of that energy for the match, I need some excitement today.”

“Bad day?” Johnny paused, one arm still wrapped loosely around Gaz’s neck, focus shifting to you so fast you were surprised he didn’t hurt himself.

“Just long.” Your smile felt brittle, small, and you tried to force it to be better. To be a better shield. “It’s fine, I’ve been looking forward to watching all day.”

“You don’t play?” Gaz asked, and you could have hugged him for keeping Johnny from fussing.

“Oh, no. I’ll kick a ball around, but I can’t keep up with an actual game.” You shrugged easily, gaze falling to the grass. “I’m just here for moral support when Johnny loses.”

Johnny puffed up, successfully distracted. “That was once! One time!”

Other people started showing up, and Johnny was quick to introduce Gaz around. You stayed where you were, waving to some people you knew, content to be on the edges of things. 

And of course Emily was there, with a few other women, all standing in a group chatting on the edges of the unofficial field. You hunched into yourself, gaze skittering away from her. 

You shouldn’t have come. But it was too late now. 

You kept your gaze on Johnny instead. It wasn’t hard. He was so vibrant, laughing and cursing and jostling the others. It was never a hardship to watch him. 

The game broke up eventually, and you weren’t sure which team had won. Or even if there had been real teams. But they all seemed happy, trooping together to the side with the women to talk about dinner plans. 

You did not miss the way Emily curled a hand around Johnny’s arm, leaned in close to him, flashed a pretty smile at him. You swallowed and looked away when he nodded, barely having to dip his head to get closer to her. 

You didn’t need to watch. You already knew where this was going. 

Thanking all your lucky stars that you’re quiet and invisible when you want to be, you gathered up your things. It was time to go. 

“Leaving already?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at Gaz’s question, hand flying to your chest. “I didn’t hear you come up,” you said, a weak defense for the way your heart thundered in your chest. 

“Sorry. Habit.” His lips twisted as he gave you a quick once-over. “Seriously, though, you out? They’re talking about getting food.”

“Some of them are.��� You smiled up at him, holding your extra sweater tight to your stomach. “It’s okay, I’ve got food at home.” 

He looked over at the group, his brow furrowing a little. You didn’t need to, but you followed his gaze anyway to see Emily and Johnny stepping away from the group. 

Just as you knew would happen. 

Gaz’s jaw clenched and then he looked back at you with something far too close to pity in his eyes. “Come have dinner with me. My treat, yeah? We can have a nice quiet time of it, if you like.” 

You opened your mouth to refuse him… but nodded. He didn’t really know anyone else here, and Johnny had kind of abandoned him too. “Yeah. Okay. I know a nice place, if you like Italian?” 

“Sounds good to me.” He held out his arm in a gallant move, which at least got you to smile. 

The two of you were quiet as you walked, you steering, him simply keeping pace. 

“So,” he finally started, quiet, gentle, “how long have you been in love with that idiot, then?” 

You debated lying to him. He couldn’t know that for certain. He was taking a shot in the dark, testing his accuracy. But you knew as soon as you glanced at those brown eyes that there would be no lying. No getting out of this. So you deflated, eyes closing briefly, even as you pulled your shoulders in, sinking into yourself. “I’m not sure. A few years?” 

“You haven’t said anything?” He rested his free hand over yours, squeezing gently. Offering silent support. 

“No.” You shook your head, almost desperately. “No, and I’m not going to.”

He stopped, pulling you to a stop with him. “Why not?” He looked genuinely bewildered. 

You stared at him. “You’re joking, right?” You pulled your hand away, crossing your arms tight over your chest. “I mean, look at me. It’s obvious.” 

He continued to look confused, gaze darting over you. “Explain it to me.” 

You shook your head, taking a step back. “Maybe I should just go.”

“Whoa, hey, no.” He held up his hands, frowning a little. “I’m sorry, that was too much. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You breathed in slowly, letting the cold air burn down your throat and in your lungs, holding it for just long enough to begin to feel the sting before you let it out in a whoosh. But his pleading eyes got to you, and you sighed. “Alright, yeah. Okay.” 

“Thank you.” He stepped closer again and offered his arm again, looking hopeful. You tucked your hand in his arm again and finished leading him to the restaurant. But the silence between you now was tense, stifled. 

“This is it.” You nodded at the restaurant just up ahead, gaze immediately dropping to the ground again. 

The two of you got seated at a table in the back, because the owner knew you, and sat for a few moments, your shoulders winding tighter with each passing heartbeat. 

“Hey.” Gaz ducked his head a little, trying to catch your gaze. “I’m sorry. I won’t push. Alright?” 

You nodded, chewing on your lip for a moment. “Okay.” 

“Tell me about your job?” He tipped his head a little. “Or a hobby.”

“Well, I suppose that’s fair, since I know probably too much about your job.” Your lips twitched in almost humor but you drew in a deep breath to start talking. 

It didn’t take long for the space between you to ease again, and dinner was more relaxed. The two of you carefully danced around the subject of Johnny and your feelings, but Gaz had plenty of amusing work stories that he could share with you. (And some pictures. Your favorite was the one of their captain slumped in his chair at his desk fast asleep. You wanted to drape a blanket over him and leave him cookies. When you told Gaz as much, Gaz looked surprised and then undeniably fond.) 

Gaz paid, ignoring your arguments, and then offered to walk you home. 

“I hope he at least left you a key.” It was the first time you’d directly brought up Johnny since before you’d arrived at the restaurant. 

“Yeah, I’m set.” Gaz shook his head a little. “Don’t worry about me.”

You huffed. “You don’t know me well, so I’ll give you a pass on that this time,” you grumbled. “I am physically incapable of not worrying about my friends.” 

He ducked his head, smiling, and then shook his head. “You must worry a lot, then.”

“Fair bit, yeah.” You shrugged. “It’s okay.” 

“I know I said I’d leave this alone…” 

Your heart dropped. Well, you’d known that was too good to last. “What do you want to know?”

“How often has he done that?” 

“What, go home with someone?” You shrugged. “It’s not like I’ve kept track.” 

“How often does he do it when you’re out with him?” Gaz looked down at you, concerned. 

“Not all the time. And he knows Emily, they’ve, um, hooked up before.” You looked away, shrugging, fighting down your discomfort. 

Gaz blew out a breath, muttering something you couldn’t understand. “If you ever want to talk,” he offered slowly, carefully, “I’m here. Yeah?”

You stopped, then, frowning at him. “Why?” 

“Because you’re sweet, and you deserve to have someone support you.” Gaz shrugged. “Since that idiot is too blind to see what’s right in front of him, I’ll do what I can.” 

You held his gaze, frowning just a little, looking for any signs of teasing or deceit. But you found none. So you nodded slowly. “Okay. Thank you.” 

He just nodded, smiling a little, and walked you the rest of the way to your apartment building in silence. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” You took one last look at him and then went inside. 

Life would be so much less complicated if you could just… fall out of love with Johnny. You’d probably even be happier for it. 

But you couldn’t. It was out of your hands - your heart had decided and didn’t seem to be budging any time soon. 

With a low groan, you gave up and flopped face-first into bed. Maybe you’d manage to smother yourself. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with all of this. 

Johnny texted you over the next couple days, but didn’t invite you anywhere. You knew one day he dragged Gaz off on a full day hiking adventure - you advised Gaz to bring chemical heat packs, because Johnny always forgot. 

But this was a good thing. A little space to get your head on straight again, to shove that longing back in its box where it belonged. Where you could absolutely bury it. 

Saturday you didn’t get an invitation. You just got knocking on your door, too bright and early. You stumbled over to the door, bleary-eyed, and yanked the door open to yell at whatever fool dared disturb you this early.

Only to be met head-on with Johnny’s puppy dog pout.

You glowered for a solid four seconds before you sighed and left the door open, going to the kitchen instead. You needed caffeine. 

“I brought you some,” Johnny bribed, following you in. “Here.” He held out a to-go cup. You could tell from the smell it was just the way you liked.

“What do you want, Johnny?” You took your cup, curling around it, not quite awake enough to be embarrassed about your state of dress. 

“It’s Gaz’s last day here,” he said, looking hopeful. “Was hopin’ you’d spend it with us.”

“You have plans?” you asked on a sigh. You already knew you’d say yes.

“Nah, figured we’d figure it out as we went.” 

“Fine. Let me get dressed.” You took your cup with you into your room, shutting the door pointedly. 

This was going to be an absolute disaster, you could tell. But you were going to see it through anyway. Because you were a damned fool. 

Johnny was quick to grin when you rejoined him, pulling you along in his orbit as he led. His mood was contagious, and always had been. Before long, you were no longer grumpy, smiling along and letting the other two lead. 

The day really wasn't a total disaster. Actually you had a lot of fun. You went on an easy hike, tried a new place for lunch, explored an art museum, and had finally stopped back at your pub for dinner and a few drinks. 

Gaz excused himself for a minute and Johnny leaned into your space, comfortable and easy. 

"Y'know, he might fancy you," he murmured with a conspiratorial wink. "If ye wanted to…" He wiggled his eyebrows, playful and suggestive. 

But you just stared at him, blank at first, but with growing pain. "He doesn't fancy me."

Johnny snorted. "Think I know him a bit better’n you do, sweets." 

You shook your head, disbelieving. He could not possibly be this blind. "He doesn't fancy me, Johnny. I know. We had a conversation." 

"You–what? When?" He leaned forward, eyes bright, clearly expecting gossip. 

You scoffed a laugh, looking up at the ceiling. "After the football game, when you left with Emily." 

He looked away briefly, jaw clenching. "Oh." 

"Yes, oh." You shook your head, looking at your half-finished drink and knowing you weren't going to finish it. "He and I talked a lot that night. He's nice. He's a good friend. But we both know he and I won't go anywhere." 

"Oh? Ye ken, do ye?" He leaned in, a challenge in his eyes. "How do ye ken?" 

"Because I love you, you absolute dafty." 

The words escaped entirely without permission, and your eyes went wide. The world froze. You couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. You just stared at Johnny as his eyes went wide too, uncomprehending. 

You didn't wait for reality to set in. You fled. Someone may have called after you, but you could barely hear through the rushing in your ears, your heart pounding so loud against your ribs that it hurt. 

You didn't stop until you were back in your flat, shaky hands locking the door. Which was about when reality set in. You'd told him. You'd told him. And there was no way to laugh it off as a joke now, no way to take it back or stuff it back down. 

Somehow, you ended up in the shower, pressed against the wall, gasping breaths humid and heaving. 

You weren't sure you'd ever recover from this. 

But you forced yourself to move. Because what else was there to do, now? You couldn't go back. You couldn't take it back. 

You had to move. 

In this case, that meant finishing your shower. Cleaning up your clothes. Putting on your baggiest sweatshirt, the one that made you feel okay because it was simultaneously like being hugged and being hidden, and curling up on the couch. And turning your phone on silent so you could ignore it. 

That wouldn't work forever, and you knew it. But it would work for now. You just needed it to work for now. 

Sunday was a blur. You barely remembered what you did. You had no idea what you ate, if you even ate. When you did dare to check your phone, you had a dozen missed calls and even more texts. 

You ignored the ones from Johnny for now. Just the thought threatened to send you back into a panic spiral. 

But Gaz should be safe. 

Soap told me. That was definitely a way to do it. 

Let us know you're home safe, yeah?

I get it if you don't want to talk. You don't have to. 

Flying out today. Text me when you can. 

Let one of us know you're safe or he might break down your door. 

Please.

You breathed slowly, reading through them again. Nothing about how Johnny felt, how he'd reacted. 

You weren't sure if that was a blessing or a curse. 

I'm fine. I'm home. I hope you had a safe flight. Sorry I didn't see you off. 

You hit send before you could talk yourself out of it, and promptly hid again. 

One more day and Johnny would be going to visit his family for the holidays. 

You left a full half hour earlier than normal to go to work, anxious and keyed up and unable to sleep. 

But you couldn't break your habits, not entirely. You scrolled past all the texts Johnny had left you, too anxious to read most of them, and sent him a quick text. 

Have a safe trip, John. 

You put your phone away again before the temptation to read through his texts got the better of you at work. 

But you couldn't hold off once you got back home. 

Most of his texts were check ins, requests to call him or text him, let him know you were okay. A few were apologies. 

But one… 

Sweets please call me, please. We can talk this out. I'm a damn fool but I swear I'll make it up to you. 

And that? Well, that could really go either way, couldn't it?

You buried your face in your pillow and cried. Just a little. For lost things and broken things. For things you couldn't have. 

Two more days of work and then you had the rest of the year off. You could make it two more days without breaking down. 

Have you talked to Soap yet? Gaz asked via text the next day. 

Not yet. You were a little ashamed to admit it. But only a little. 

Call him. We had a long talk last night. It will be okay. 

You stuffed your phone away again before your hands could start shaking any worse, anxiety and insecurity surging. 

You dragged yourself home from work Wednesday and froze. 

Johnny was standing outside your flat, shoulders hunched, hair wild like he'd been pulling on it. He spotted you and froze, expression torn between hope and fear. 

"Johnny?" You approached slowly, keys in hand. "You're… here?" 

"Aye." He scratched the side of his head, shifting his weight. "Talked to my ma. And Gaz. Ma told me to, uh. Fix this." 

"Fix?" Your heart went cold at the thought, and you shook your head. "It's hardly your fault, Johnny, you don't have to–" 

"Please." He put one hand over yours, light as a feather. Just enough to make you realize your hands were shaking even as you tried to unlock the door. 

You'd always been terrible at telling him no. So you swallowed and nodded, pushing open the door for the both of you. 

"Can I get you anything?" You glanced at him as you put your things down, kicking off your shoes. 

He shook his head, watching as you buzzed around for a minute, putting things away and getting water for the both of you anyway. You couldn't bear the look in his eyes, the quiet grief there. 

So you tried to head it off. 

"Really, Johnny, you don't have to fix anything. I'm… I'll be okay." 

"Were you ever going to tell me?" He watched you now, gaze pinning you in place. 

"Not if I could help it." You gulped. "It was… you didn't reciprocate, and I didn't want to ruin our friendship. I didn't want this exact thing to happen." 

"What made you think I don't have feelings for you?" He spoke slowly and carefully. 

"John." You shook your head. "I've seen the kind of woman you go home with, and they don't… look like me." 

He winced. Actually winced. "That's not…" He trailed off, anguished eyes meeting yours, struggle clear on his face. 

"It's okay." You even managed to smile. "I know I'm not exactly the standard of beauty, and I'm not anyone's first choice. I understand." 

"But ye are!" He jumped to his feet, pacing in front of the couch. "Sweets, I never ask those people over ta mine, ye ken? They ask me." 

You blinked. That was… surprising, granted. But it didn't change much. "Okay?" 

He sighed, short and sharp, tugging at his mohawk again. "I did flirt with ye." 

"What?" You blinked at him, absolutely stupefied. 

"In the beginning. Tried flirting. Ye dinnae seem open to it, so ah stopped." 

"You… with me?" You were still stuck on that, brain whirring, trying to go back through your memories of your early friendship with him. 

"Aye, with ye." He looked sad for some reason you didn't understand. 

"When?!" You stared at him, flabbergasted. 

He huffed a little laugh. "Plenty." He stared at you, halted several steps away. "Ye didn't ken?"

"I had no idea." You slumped a little. 

He snorted, a little wet, and scrubbed his hand through his hair. "Any idiot would be lucky to have ye." 

"Any idiot…?" Hope curled around your heart, delicate but growing every moment. 

Johnny crossed the room, dropping to his knees in front of you, hands bracketing your thighs. "I would be lucky," he amended, looking up at you earnestly. 

"You don't mean that." Tears pricked in your eyes, and you blinked rapidly. 

"I do." Slowly, carefully, one hand migrated to your knee. "I really do." 

You gasped at the intensity of his gaze, trembling a little. "But I'm…" you trailed off, hands clenched tight in the hem of your shirt. 

"Beautiful." He sat up on his knees, leaning in closer. "Warm." His other hand landed on your other knee. "Kind." Both hands squeezed gently. "One o' the sweetest people I ken." 

"Johnny…" You stared at him, lips parted, hope and longing and disbelief all swirled up together in your chest. 

"Please, sweets." He shifted closer to you, hands rubbing restlessly but never progressing past the tops of your knees. "Lemme show ye, prove to ye I mean it." 

"Okay." 

You weren't sure who moved first, you or him. But it ended the same: kissing him, one palm against his jaw, the other in his hair, while he pressed as close to you as he could get. You slowly spread your knees and he moaned softly, immediately shuffling into the space presented, still on his knees. 

"So sorry, sweets." He kissed you again, one hand lifting to the back of your neck, holding you where he wanted you. "Ah'm an eejit." 

"We both are," you whispered, thumb stroking over his cheek tenderly. 

"Now, sweets, won't hear a word against ye." He pulled back, grinning when you tried to chase his lips. "Got it?"

"Fine, but please don't stop." You tightened your grip in his hair, trying to pull him back to you. 

Another several minutes were lost to kissing that slowly calmed from desperate to just lovely, slower and exploratory and open-mouthed and messy. 

"Come home wi' me," Johnny murmured in between placing sweet kisses along your jaw. 

"What?" You felt a little fried, like this was the best kind of dream, or like you had short-circuited and needed to reboot. 

"Promised Ma ah'd ask." 

"She's okay with this?" You felt bashful suddenly, dropping your gaze to your knees. 

Johnny laughed softly, nuzzling right at your pulse. "Threatened to kick me out, actually," he said, humor in his voice now. "If ah messed this up." 

You hid behind one hand, hot and flustered and trying to hide just how pleased you were. 

"Nah, none o' that,'' he clucked, pulling your hand away from your face. "Wanna see ye, sweets." 

And how could you say no to those eyes? "I mean…. If you're sure she's okay with it…" 

"More than okay," he reassured you, leaning up again to press his forehead to yours. 

"Then… okay." Your eyes suddenly widened. "I'll have to pack, and I don't have gifts for your family!"

"Ach, donnae fuss," he grumbled, though he was grinning. Beaming, really. "You are a gift." 

"That was awful." But you relaxed again, smiling. 

"Mm. Might'a been." His grin turned predatory, short nails scratching lightly against the back of your neck to make you gasp. "Now, how 'bout I show ye what we've both been missing…? Show ye exactly how beautiful ye are." 

Doubt flashed, a big blinking light in your brain. But there was nothing in his eyes but sincerity and desire, nothing harmful in the way he looked at you, not a hint of doubt in the way he kissed you. 

So you breathed in slowly, wrestling down your inner demons, ignoring their cries and screeches. And you nodded. 

"Yes, Johnny."