#And then the thoughts start eating away at her:

[vicorices]

18+ mdni, collage au, use of marijuana, high sex, blink and you'll miss perv!vi, you smoke while she eats you (feral), spit, stoner!vi that got out of hand.

masterlist // requests // wc: 1,931

dealer!vi who’s deep down a damn loser when it comes to you, an unmeasured crush that started out when you bought weed for the first time and she got your number under the premise of talking to you whenever she had good stash.

she stares for a good while at her phone after, trying to find out a reason to talk to you without sounding lame, the last time she was so afraid to talk to a girl she was what? sixteen? so fucking lame.

dealer!vi who leaves in the middle of a party cause you texted asking is she was up and well, it's her fault when she's spoiling you rotten, constantly selling to you her very best stuff at a stupid low price: she wants you to keep coming to her, so she makes sure of making an undeniable offer.

she's knocking at your door and it's way to late to be in the streets, standing with her hands shoved inside her jacket as she waits for you to open up.

dealer!vi who's impressed actually by your rolling skills cause how the fuck did you learn how to roll a joint like that? you have such a good technique she finds herself looking at it, fingers in perfect control as they swiftly pour the green from your purple grinder into king-sized pink rolling papers — is it indirect kissing when you're licking the paper and she can visibly see strings of your saliva? must be.

she looks at you when you light up the joint and the air is quickly filled with the intense smell of weed, a subtle fruity and citric aroma as you passed her the joint. indirect kissing. indirect kissing when vi's smoking from the very same spot you did, sitting close to you after selling you a good amount of weed and accepting a sudden invitation to stay for a while and smoke, make the journey at least a bit more worth it and not leave after five minutes with you.

it doesn't have to be just pure business.

you're oblivious to it, but her gaze lingers in your legs and the subtle way your shirt rides up showing more and more skin without you noticing, worried you'll find out she's right there high and dry in your sofa.

stoner!vi who laughs at your jokes, leaning forward when talking to you cause even high she just thinks about how beautiful you are, eyes red, half lidded, relaxed in the comfortable of your small apartment close to the uni.

and like a good stoner she forgets about she's holding the joint at some point, too busy with the conversation, your company and the atmosphere you’ve so easily created, the ashes falling to the ground now. she has sold you marijuana for months, yet she's not able to talk to you for more than explaining you what strain she's carrying to sell until well — now.

liking your photos, flirting but not at all, it's absurd the amounts of times you appear on her mind without even trying to, messy haircut, she's sure you have a tattoo hidden under the winter clothes cause she can be a proud stoner, but she pays attention, at least when she wants something, when it comes to you.

"are you ever going to make a move on me, vi? cause i'm getting tired of waiting for you to snap out of it."

and maybe it's the weed, that dizzy and nice sensation on her chest that makes her smile, cause she's sure you're pulling her closer even when she's the one moving on her own.

"a move, you want me to make a move on you?"

you're taking the joint from her fingers and she swears it's the hottest thing she's ever experienced, the way you were suddenly so close to her only to pull away after, letting the smoke linger in the air when you light it again: she has felt that very same thing before, the awful need of pulling you into a kiss.

"i thought it was obvious when i texted you in the middle of the night, but you don't seem to get it much" the music seems to drown her unsteady breathing, the loud guitars by the speaker in the table while your bratty attitude only seems to turn her on even further. "should i spell it out for you? send a formal invitation?"

stoner!vi who's really bad in controlling her force when high, cause her hand fist in the fabric of your shirt and she's finally erasing the distance she was once polite to keep, moving you without much effort across the cushions to pull you closer to her, make you lay on the sofa to pin you down beneath her.

her muscles flex on top on you and she's finally aware of the effect she has on you, when she's finally kissing you and you're responding to her even when she barely touches you — so maybe it's not as lame as she thought, cause her kisses travels down your throat, messy, sloppy open-mouthed kisses she places as she holds you there, still and where she wants you to, not lame at all when you cannot control yourself either, squirming, already asking for more.

and fuck it's good. she can smell the subtle smell of weed in your clothes, and swear could choke 'cause you're parting your legs for her, a silent invitation she just gets with no need to spell it out for her now.

"gonna smoke it all by yourself?" vi's messing with you at first, watching you take the joint you forgot in your fingers to place it over your lips — "or are you gonna share that with me?"

stoner!vi who fantasizes with the thought of spitting right over your parted lips when she's helping you smoke, lighting up the joint as she sits on top of you. she's slower, but her hips press down against yours just right, and trapped in between her thighs is a damn sight. her blushed cheeks match her cherry hair who's much longer now since the first time you meet her, and you, a demon as always, let your hand find the skin beneath her shirt, the pad of your fingers roaming against her hip bone, trailing it down her pants.

with two fingers, she places the joint over your lips. your breathing collides against her hand, and she can feel the softness in your lips for a moment before you're blowing the smoke in her direction, slightly and for nothing more than five seconds but enough to make her think about kissing you again, yearning when she's stealing kiss after kiss, taking away the joint to have you pay attention to her instead. needy.

the weed makes her like that she'd say, but in reality vi's going to pieces even before her eyes become glassy. shambles when the music on the speaker is not enough to muffle your gasps, the irregular sound of your breathing after she slowly begins to ask you for more — hungry even when she's full fed.

she's building you up, taking her time since she dreamed about this a lot, and she desperately wants it to make it last, savor it as long as she can have it, so vi's dragging your shirt upwards, enough so she can see the obvious lack of a bra, latching on the skin of your breast until it's bruised and sensitive, purple because of her.

you do have a hidden tattoo, only for her to see.

yet it's her name on your swollen lips what she enjoys the most, how she's there in your lungs inside you, the sound of your moans when you ask if she could keep going. your always perfect hair lays now messy, and god she just want to imprint the sight of you in her brain, how your skin shiver when she's kissing the expanses of your belly, that flirty look on your face she can see even when she's completely on her knees for you already.

"you forgot about the joint again, peach" vi mutters against your navel, her chin presses against your stomach and the mere contact makes your skin burn "you okay up there? 'cause last time i recall i was invited to smoke with you love, you're making me feel a little betrayed here."

stoner!vi who likes the fact you're smoking from her weed. may seem stupid but she damn prides on knowing you choose her every time even when uni is fucking plagued with providers all around: you praise about her quality, chanting about how good your high was, how she never disappoints.

the world seems to stop against your skin, the time dies between your thighs, the intense smell of your arousal clouds her with longing and her mouth waters at the compulsion to lean forward.

"it's not fair, making me feel so- fuck so-" the words die on her tongue, cause your panties are soaked through, clinging to your folds and she's already drunk on it, lost in the haze as she looks up to you, barely illuminated by the lights in the apartment, the ember of the joint lighting every once in a while.

"talk to me," your voice is rough as your hand reaches down to her hair, taking the long strands of the mullet between your fingers — "how do i make you feel, huh? tell me vi."

stoner!vi who's a chaotic eater. she whimpers at your praises as her tongue laps from over your slick underwear, drool escaping from the corners of her mouth as her nose rubs against your sensitive cunt and she doesn't really care if she stinks like pussy after, if you're gushing all over her cheeks as she's making your underwear to the side; she's surrendering entirely, spreading you with her fingers and sinking her face in your puffy, swollen lips already sticky with a sheen of arousal.

she cannot seem to have enough, one arm tangled around your leg as she's comfortable enough to gather a good amount of saliva on her mouth so she can let it fall against your already leaky pussy, scooping it with her fingers to use it as lube when her digits are forcing themselves against your entrance, opening you up for her as vi's mouth sucks greedy around your clit.

so you forgot about the joint laying between your fingers as you hold her face against your sex, moving your hips against her mouth until she's looking at you through half lidded eyes and you can see how her face seems to glisten thanks to you. vi seems to be hitting all the nice places when her fingers scissors inside you, rubbing on your walls as you become pliant in her touch, inviting as you seem to suck her in deeper.

stoner!vi who pays attention, cause she's fixated in your face when you fall apart, dissolving into pleasure, splintering in lust for a brief moment she prolongs as much as it's possible, slowly pumping her fingers inside your tight entrance to keep seeing that pretty face all constricted in need, babbling about how good she's eating you, how full you are when her fingers fuck you dumb like that.

stoner!vi who shoves her fingers in your mouth right after fucking you, using her thumb to trace them along the seam at first, coaxing you to open them for her, pushing down on your tongue as soon as she's granted permission.

it's her turn to smoke now.

[ssahotchnerr]

ooh! i have an ellieverse request... aaron watching ellie take her first steps and then feeling guilty that he couldnt be there for jack plsss

milestones

cw; fem!reader, dad!aaron, food descriptions, fluff and some angst - happy ending but it's also kinda not? aaron loves to self deprecate :( wc; 1.1k

"Pb and J, or turkey for your lunch?"

"Turkey."

"Turkey it is," Aaron grabbed the deli meat from its designated compartment in the fridge. "You like swiss cheese," he thought aloud, grabbing that next. "How 'bout some mayo on it, too?"

Jack's nose scrunched in disapproval over his cereal. "Kids at school don't eat that, Dad."

"Okay I'm sorry," Aaron chuckled, shutting the fridge and tossing the two selections on the counter. He highly doubted that, but who knew what the trends in third grade were. "My bad, no mayo."

It was starting out to be a typical Hotchner morning; getting up, getting the kids up, flowing through the normal routine before the busyness of the day began. That is, until your voice called out from the other room.

"Aaron! She's walking!"

Aaron was already on the move at your initial frantic tone, but picked up as the realization of what you said hit. Ellie's been mobile for a while; crawling, standing, maybe moving an inch before plopping right back down to crawl, but walking wasn’t something she’d shown too much interest in yet. Jack followed right in his footsteps.

Upon entry into the living room, you were seated in the middle of the carpet - Ellie a few feet away, holding onto the couch and oblivious to what she had done as you clutched onto your phone, eyes wide with the camera recording.

"She what?"

"She's walking," Happy tears shone in your eyes, scrambling over to Ellie and setting her up again, "Look. Go see Dada, honey."

You didn't need to tell her twice; she never needed an excuse to see her father, her face lighting up. She stabilized herself before her little feet carried her over. One foot slowly by the other, she reached Aaron, who was equally in awe.

"Ellie!" Aaron grinned, lifting her a foot up into the air in celebration. "What a big girl you are."

"Can I try next?" Jack sat beside you, holding out his arms. Aaron steadied Ellie upright and she began wobbling over to him, babbling softly as she approached her brother.   

Aaron met your gaze; you were beside yourself. Absolutely giddy with the biggest smile on your face. It made one of his own form.

"Alright bud, it's time to finish getting ready for school." You said to Jack once Ellie finished her laps, now making it about halfway across before dropping onto the carpet. "You don't want to be late."

"Do I need to?" Jack whined, "I don't want to miss her walking."

Your gaze shot to Aaron as the words innocently left Jack's mouth, registering what was said the same time he did. As slight as it was - all Aaron would allow - he sobered, a sullen demeanor taking over.

-

"Well, that was an exciting morning." You opened the conversation; Jack had just been picked up by his ride, and Aaron was getting ready to head off to work as well.

"Mhm." He was bouncing Ellie in his arms while he waited for his coffee to brew. She made a grab at his nose. "We really need to baby proof the house now."

He was thrilled, absolutely he was, but he felt bad, an internal battle going on in his head. Today had been a huge day for Ellie, a milestone. He didn't want his guilt to overshadow that - it wasn't fair to her.

But that's how he felt.

"You're not a bad Dad." You stated what you knew was mulling in his brain, and a pain rippled through your heart at the fact he thought such. He was Jack's hero, Ellie was a daddy's girl through and through, but he jumped at the opportunity to believe otherwise.

Aaron gave you a look, strapping Ellie into her highchair. "I saw Jack's first steps through my phone screen."

"That's okay," you sympathized, dropping a handful of Cheerios onto Ellie's tray. "And it's okay to feel bad. But you didn't have control over that; there was no way of knowing he'd start walking then so you shouldn't put yourself at fault."

"I don't want Jack to feel neglected. I'm kinda getting a do-over with Ellie in terms of the mistakes I made, so what's he going to think?" He countered, sitting down at the chair set beside Ellie's.

"He's not going to think anything. Jack? Neglected?" A soft laugh escaped you - it wasn't a laughing matter, but he was so incredibly far off you couldn't help it. "He idolizes you, Aaron."

Aaron shrugged, doubtful.

"You coach his soccer team. You take him to the Smithsonian every chance you get. Or how about all the nights the two of you stay up late reading, or building Legos? That's what he'll remember, not who was there for his first steps. And think about all the other milestones he's experienced."

He stayed silent, so you continued.

"Who was there for his first soccer goal? Who taught him to ride a bike without training wheels? What was his first word?"

"Dad." He conceded, picking up one of Ellie's Cheerios and letting her grab it from his palm. You had him there.

"I rest my case. Although experiencing his first steps firsthand would've been amazing, it's a small part of the rest of his life. And if you know better now, then you'll be there. You'll be right there cheering him on."

He started to protest, but you beat him to it, knowing his next counterpoint. 

"And if for whatever reason you're not - the same goes with Ellie's milestones too - they know their Dad is catching the bad guys, making the world a safe place not only for them, but for others too. It's a good compromise, and we'll be ready to fill you in the second we're able. Like you were there the whole time."

The inevitable missing out still burdened his heart; his work was important, but so was his family. He stated he's learned, but has he? Was he still making the same mistakes?

He appreciated your sentiment, your trying, the way your eyes shone at him with the pure belief that he wasn't a letdown. You'd always seen more within him than he believed was actually there. He saw it in Jack's eyes, and Ellie's too, as young as she was. In return, every day he tried to accept it as well.

But it was hard, the fear of three pairs of eyes someday blankly staring back at him burned in his mind. He'd seen it from a different pair once before.

"Thank you," was all he could get out, nodding his head.

You brushed his hair back, pausing after the first sweep at the realization you'd messed up his styled, ready-to-go-to-work cowlicks, fixing them quickly. "We love you. And we understand."

He found your eyes, a small pinch in his heart. He hoped you always would.

Pushing his self-deprecation aside, he turned back to your daughter, who was now delighting in throwing her cereal onto the floor. Today was about her achievement. He swallowed thickly, exhaling a breath and smiling at her.

"So we have a walker now, huh?"

[pomegranate-theater]

helloo i wonder if you have no problem with the idea of reader passing out during an intercourse?🥹🥹🥹 if that so, could you please write yandere phainon with reader who always reject his affection—even the smallest affection—despite already living together for almost a year or even more? then one day he just snapped and tying reader's hands to the bedpost, then mercilessly—but also gently—having his way with her until she overwhelmed and can't think of anything else other than "maybe his love is the only thing that i need" then eventually passed out? and phainon, being the sweet 'lover' he is, giving the best aftercare for her even when she's still lying unconscious. oh! it'd be great if you could put nipple play here and there. OMG i'm so sorry i talk too much, i hope you don't mind😭😭😭

BITTERSWEET / YANDERE PHAINON

cw: female reader / non-con / bondage / overstimulation / rough sex / nipple and breast play / phainon is kinda delusional / passing out during sex / aftercare / kinda angsty. not suitable for minors or anyone uncomfortable with the mentioned warnings. word count: 2.1k

Note: I tried my best to fit the description into the fic, and I hope everything still blends together well! Let me know.

Could a man being so cruel with you still try to exude sweetness? Because the ropes he chose to tie you with were silky ribbons, with him not daring to chafe your skin or even strain your wrists — should they tug against the headboard. The carefulness of the gesture didn’t mean he gave you any freedom in your movements, however — the binds were still meticulously twisted, not able to be broken unless you possessed a Herculean strength.

“How did this come to be,” Phainon said with bitterness, too shaken up by his frustrations and despair to be stopped in his actions of fucking into you to have a chance to realize the repercussions of doing this to you. “Almost a year of living together, almost a year of me pouring out my heart for you…” his hands gripped harshly on your hips, making you cry out from a small ache, and all you could have done is wrap your legs around his hips tighter if the upper limbs were restrained above your head.

“… and yet, you continue to break my heart repeatedly. I’m starting to think I’m not the selfish person here,” he hissed, and you felt your mind slipping away somewhere, far away, to escape the fire coursing through your nerves.

When Phainon first cornered you after you had yelled at him today, once again, for not respecting your space with what you deemed as clinginess, despite it being scary if out of the range of his typical behavior, you still asininely assumed he’s just agitated and affronted by your additional rejection. Unfortunately for it it turn to be punitive, when soon after he was pouncing on you this way — tying you up, eating you out until your clit was too numb to feel any pleasure, and now — fucking you like an animal, while shifting the blame at you.

You couldn’t be at fault here, in any way, if you’ve never asked him to become your lover nor did you ever have to accept anyone’s affection — no matter how unconditional, well-thought or sacrificial they could be. But put a man to be so desperately in love with you, reaching levels of unhealthily obsessive, and he’ll start to feel entitled to you involuntarily to him.

As he fucked you, and fucked you, and fucked you, not giving you any moment to be spared of him stretching your pussy and digging deep inside with his cock. Your indignant protests have gone quiet at this point, replaced with pleads for mercy as your sensitive body was being lit up when he was forcing you with an intention of making you cum again — this time on his dick, towering over you pliant body with him on his knees between your thighs to be thrusting hard into you.

“P-Phainon, I can’t—” you were sobbing at this point, not even capable of focusing on any specific part of your body, if every was tormented in some ways — so you felt overwhelmed everywhere’s. His cock was hitting your insides with too much depth and scraping them with fast frictions, his hands moved from hips to your breasts to be fondling them; and your clit was sore from both previous actions and now his hips constantly running the ache with thrusts.

“Well, maybe not everything happens to be about you for once—” he spit with venom, and his fingers skillfully massaged your buds between his fingers. Your body lunched upward, the stimulus shattering your last remains of sanity. Could a person die from being overstimulated so much? He’s tortured you with foreplay, if you could call it that, now his cock was his next lesson for you.

When your body went slack, mind fuzzy and difficult to follow up with anything, only then Phainon softened — pitying was visceral to him. “Must you really be so cruel and treat me like I’m a dictator with your rebellion, if I’m only trying to show you my love?” he asked with longing, and slowed down for you sake. In this state, your mind was more susceptible to anything he could throw at you.

“P-phainon… I’m sorry,” you choked out, your sobs having died down but the feeling of being minced in every inch of your body remained.

You either knew how to play him well, what vulnerabilities of Phainon to tug at; or you were genuinely sorry — he couldn’t tell, but didn’t he wish to hear more of your kindness.

“Do you mean it?” he asked with a hope for your benevolence, and grabbed your legs to throw them over his shoulder, before he leaned down to be on top of you — face to face. You were drenched in your sweat, your eyes barely held up with his, and your breath was disturbed.

Somehow, it only made you more beautiful to him; regardless of him being the meanest he has ever been. He was making you his, if you didn’t want to be his. Maybe he’s been too lenient. Maybe he’s given you too much benefit of the doubt, thinking you just need to adjust to him — it’s been more than eleven months now, and he’s been kind, wasn’t he?

Begrudgingly, you agreed. You were losing your mind in this situation too, especially you — at this point, the singular aspect that could prevent your life becoming from more of a ruin was giving in to him. There was no way Phainon would ever let you go, not if he’s not dead, so you could either continue struggling or… try to make the best of this situation to live a better life. “Y-yes, I’m sorry. I know you care…”

It was as if your words whipped him, making him still, as his blue eyes looked at you with disbelief. An acknowledgment, no matter how minuscule compared to the amorphous affection and devotion levels he has expressed when being with you, was a blessing and felt like a greatest of gifts. Perhaps, he’s made a good choice coming at you this way, and should have nipped that in the bud much sooner — in his opinion.

A man now vivacious kissed you with joy and excitement, and withdrew few seconds later when hearing your whimper. “Sorry, I must have exhausted you. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle now.”

Hearing him signal he’s not done yet, just more careful, made you want to protest again. Yet, you didn’t, scared of bursting his bubble or bringing his wrath back. “Okay…”

“That’s right,” he said with pride, and still slow in his thrusts, his lips kissed all over your collarbones, gently, to not further fray your nerves. Phainon knew — at least has learned it today — that you were holding particularly erogenous areas in your breasts. That’s why his lips nipped at the soft flesh.

With your hands still tied, you couldn’t grab at his hair to have something to hold onto; you only grazed your skin with the sting and writhing of the material as you tried to tug your hands away from the headboard. “No… not here!” you begged, trashing under him.

“Shh. I’m being gentle, as per my promise. You can take it, if my only wish is to make you feel good.” You couldn’t explain it to him that feeling good wasn’t the problem here; sadly, once this man sets his mind on this idea, he couldn’t stop.

“And it does feel good, doesn’t it?” he inquired. It did pleasure your body, unfortunately not fully exploitable to you if you felt out of control and way too intense… though, with him looking at you with hope, you muttered “yes”. The sooner you let him finish, the sooner he’ll snap out of his trance — and maybe you’ll manage to let yourself fall too.

You wanted to take it back when his lips wrapped on the right nipple and sucked, nerves in your plush flesh feeling prickled with needles.

“Oh, gods, Phainon, it’s too much!” you cried out, tears spilling on your face again. The drain concerned him for a moment, and he looked up at you, wiping tears for you.

He knew he should be stopping at this point. But there was something in him, not even fueled by sadism, that wanted to see how far he could push you — for his own satisfaction and comfort, so he can be assured in his belief you’re his. Maybe it was control-driven, but having control over you meant he had you.

“Then let it go. Let it all go, and everything will be alright,” he smiled, way too innocently for your distress, and lunged at the other nipple with a doubled fervor. His hips were now awful to you again, chasing the intense unravel from you. He wanted to see you get lost entirely, so he could impose your mind with him only.

His hands under your bent knees, he split you on his cock fast and deep, hitting a spot below your cervix that made you feel lightheaded. His lips were vicious too, swelling the nipples. You couldn’t speak anymore, only make almost screeching noises, among skin clapping and wet stirring sounds reverberating from the walls of a bedroom that should have been a safe haven.

His mouth finally left your nipples and he moved himself closer to you between your legs, his arms sliding upwards — his hands were now holding the sides of your head, his face so close your noses were almost touching, and your legs rested bent over his forearms.

“My love- please, tell me you love me,” he pleaded, his voice cracking, as he sped up his thrusts in chase of anything from you.

To his shock, you reciprocated the words, albeit meekly, “I love you.” Phainon couldn’t be sure if it was you meaning them, or if you simply were repeating anything when your brain was dead and soaking anything like a sponge — but he closed his eyes and pretended it was an honest confession.

“Thank you, thank you…” he moaned when you tightened around, so nearing your orgasm, and hid his face in your neck. “Thank you so much. I love you so much, I could just die—”

You meanwhile, couldn’t even hear his manic ramble, busy with your body getting so light you thought you could fly away. The overwhelming pleasure and approaching demise in form of the orgasm was rushing your blood to be hot and fast through your veins. You weighed nothing, when the final peak of the day was by overly stimulated furnace of your body, and the climax would be your last straw.

The pressure in your abdomen snapped, making you twitch around his cock violently, and you couldn’t even scream when finally lost consciousness, not able to handle the blood pressure change.

He didn’t notice yet, rapt by the ecstatic state of having both of your pussy and your “devotion”; not until he was done filling you up with cum — even with your body limp, he was clueless.

“You are unreal,” he sighed contentedly, trying to bury down the arising guilt coming with the pleasure being lifted off. When not hearing your response, he suddenly snapped his head up, and gasped when seeing your unconscious form. Phainon gently shook your shoulder and when you didn’t wake up, palpated for your pulse — thankfully, you were alive, just shaken up by the intense experience.

A dutiful lover he was, he gently pulled out, witnessing his seed drip out onto the bedsheets under you. You could be waking up any moment, and him not wanting you to panic by discomfort, he was quick to clean you up and dress you up — no matter if sad by the loss of skin to skin contact, all gentle and delicate for you and your sensitive body.

He was conflicted and flickering between two emotions — guilt and satisfaction. Guilty from pushing you so far, and jubilant from your submission and admission (whether honest or not, time will verify).

When you began to awake, slowly coming to the realization of what has happened as you regained your bearings, you didn’t find it in yourself to struggle. Too exhausted physically and wiped out emotionally, you let him hold you.

“I’m so glad you’re awake. I was extremely worried about you, my muse,” he was now in a cosseting mood, speaking to you as if you were a sick baby of his. That’s why while running his hand over your back, safely nested in his arms, he spoke sweetly; as if it wasn’t all his fault, just duty doing to finally make you see his efforts and love, “Are you in any pain?”

“I’m sore…” you replied with no enthusiasm; to which he didn’t deflate, assuming you’re as tired as you say. “Hm, I’m sorry for that, but I’m sore with our intimacy, we finally have made amends.”

“Amends”, he says. You didn’t want to make any; however, what other choice did you have at this point? You had to survive somehow.

“… Yeah,” when you confirmed and even cuddled up closer to him, he smiled beaming with happiness, and was quick to be on his feet. “Stay here.” Not that you could walk anywhere. “I’ll bring you some water and food, and then I’ll massage your legs-”

When Phainon disappeared out of the room, you closed your eyes with resignation — you even missed the warmth of his body and hoped for its quick return.

[honeyslibrary]

Late Again | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Established relationship, angst, cursing, not sure what else, edited once.

Summary; Inspired by this request: Hi hi!! I love your writing, especially for Quinn and I was just wondering if you could write some Quinn x reader angst? Like maybe he's been coming home late and she reaches her breaking point w him? Tysm!! 💕💗

Word Count; 3.4k

Author’s note; This was requested sooo long ago n I'm so sorry for the wait, but nonetheless I hope you like it. 😊 I listened to the song The Exit by Conan Gray when I wrote this, it doesn't fit the vibe, but it's a great song I newly discovered. Also I have no idea if he likes chicken fried steak, I just chose something random lol -Honey

You poked at the dinner you'd carefully prepared—chicken-fried steak, Quinn's favorite—half-heartedly pushing the mashed potatoes around your plate with your fork. The food was getting cold, untouched. You couldn't even bring yourself to take a bite. A home game tonight against the St. Louis Blues—he’d mentioned it this morning, and you’d nodded, knowing the routine all too well by now. Quick meal, pregame nap, then off to the rink. You understood how demanding his schedule was, but tonight was supposed to be different. He promised. The effort you put in, starting dinner earlier than usual so he’d have time to eat before his nap, now felt wasted. The smell of the crispy steak and buttery potatoes filled the air, but it only made you feel emptier.

You sat alone at the dinner table, your eyes flicking toward your phone every few minutes, hoping for the screen to light up with a message from him. But it never did. The minutes stretched into an hour, the silence from your phone growing heavier with every second. He’d promised to be home for dinner today—said it with that familiar smile like he really meant it this time. But here you were, waiting, yet again. The clock on the wall ticked louder in the empty room. The sound seemed to amplify the absence, reminding you of just how late he was. You glanced at your phone one more time, willing it to show some sign of life—an apology, an excuse, anything—but the screen stayed dark. Not a text. Not a call. Nothing.

You took a deep breath, trying to quiet the disappointment clawing at your chest, but it didn’t help. The food, once so full of effort and care, now seemed like a mockery of your good intentions. You wondered if he even realized how much you’d gone out of your way tonight, or if he’d forgotten, caught up in his routine, his career, his world. You weren’t sure anymore.

An hour and a half late now. You stood up from the table, abandoning the cold meal as you walked over to the window, peeking outside as if expecting to see his car pulling into the driveway. Nothing. The quiet suburban street was empty, just as it always was. The sky had started to darken, and with it, the flicker of hope you’d been clinging to all evening. How many more times would you find yourself waiting, wondering if you were ever going to be a priority in his life again?

The more you thought about it, the more the dull ache of disappointment twisted itself into something sharper, hotter—anger. It started as a slow simmer in your chest, but with each passing second, the heat rose, spreading through your veins like wildfire. Was he serious? A bitter sigh escaped your lips as you walked back into the kitchen. You grabbed your plate first, then his—untouched, of course—and headed to the garbage can. With one swift motion, you scraped the food into the garbage, the chicken-fried steak falling in with a dull thud. It almost felt like a relief to throw it away, like you were getting rid of something that no longer had meaning. The mashed potatoes smeared against the sides of the plate as you tossed the rest, the food you’d spent time making reduced to nothing more than trash.

The pans on the stove caught your eye next, and before you even realized what you were doing, you were scooping the perfectly good leftovers into the trash as well. The scent of the meal you’d so carefully prepared—the aroma of rosemary, garlic—rose up as if to remind you of the effort you'd put in. It stung, but you didn’t care. Fuck that. He didn’t deserve your cooking. He didn’t deserve the time, the thoughtfulness. Not anymore.

His favorite meal, no less. What a joke. You felt ridiculous for even caring so much, for putting in the effort when he clearly couldn’t be bothered to be home like he'd promised, or even give you the courtesy of a text.

You slammed the pans down into the sink with more force than necessary, the clang reverberating in the quiet kitchen. You stood over the sink, glaring at the pile of dirty dishes, your hands tightening and un-tightening at your sides. The dishwasher was right there, but using it felt too easy, too detached. You needed something more physical, something to work out this simmering frustration before it consumed you.

So, instead, you grabbed the sponge and turned on the water, scrubbing the first plate with a force that made your knuckles whiten. The warm, soapy water splashed up against your arms, but you didn’t care. You scrubbed harder, as if each circular motion could somehow scrub away the resentment building inside you. The plate wasn’t even that dirty, but you attacked it like it was covered in grime.

Each scrape of the sponge against ceramic echoed in the quiet kitchen, filling the space where his excuses should have been. The more you scrubbed, the more it felt like you were scrubbing away the traces of him—his absence, his broken promises, his selfishness. If only it were that easy. If only a sink full of dishes could clean up all the messes he was leaving behind.

It was Quinn’s second year as captain of the Canucks, a role that had transformed him in ways you hadn’t fully anticipated. The weight of the 'C' on his chest seemed heavier this season, with expectations higher than ever after last year’s breakout performance. The team had exceeded everyone’s predictions, turning heads and silencing critics with a season no one saw coming. Now, all eyes were on them to prove it wasn’t just a fluke.

You knew Quinn was feeling that pressure—how could he not? He had something to prove, not just to the fans, the media, or his teammates, but to himself. The burden of leadership was always in the back of his mind, quietly pushing him to go harder, to be better, to set an example. And you understood that. You really did. You knew he was doing the best he could, managing the weight of it all in his own way. But even understanding had its limits. And so did you.

Quinn, on the other hand, seemed to have no boundaries when it came to pushing himself. It was almost like he didn’t know how to stop, how to pull back. Even now, he was still nursing that hand injury—an injury that should have sidelined him weeks ago—but he kept playing through it, insisting he could handle the pain. Thirty minutes a night, almost every game, skating until exhaustion blurred the edges of his vision. You’d seen the way he winced sometimes when he thought no one was looking, flexing his hand to work out the tightness, but refusing to sit out even for a single shift.

You admired his dedication. How could you not? His determination, his relentless drive to push through, to carry the weight of the team on his shoulders—it was part of what made him the player, the leader, that he was. But it was also the part of him that worried you the most.

You knew he felt like he had to do it, that as captain, anything less than perfection wasn’t enough. And while you respected that drive, it didn’t make it any easier watching him run himself into the ground night after night. Especially when you were the one sitting at home, picking up the pieces of what was left, wondering if he was going to come back from each game a little more broken than before.

You were patient. You’d learned to be. But your patience wasn’t endless.

The sound of the front door opening jolted you from your thoughts, the creak of the hinges cutting through the sound of the running water. You pause, your hands submerged in soapy water, your grip tightening on the sponge as Quinn stepped inside. He walks in, clad in his usual post-practice attire—Nike sweatpants hanging low on his hips and a black compression shirt clinging to the lines of his torso. He looked worn, as if the weight of the day hadn’t just been left on the ice but was still hanging on his shoulders, pulling him down.

You glanced over your shoulder, giving him a quick once-over, but you didn’t say anything. The words felt stuck in your throat, trapped behind the frustration and sadness swirling in your chest. Instead, you turned back to the dishes, resuming your task with more force than necessary, the clinking of the plates louder than before. You didn’t offer a greeting, and neither did he. It was almost as if the two of you existed in different worlds now—yours, filled with waiting and disappointment, and his, consumed by the game, by the pressure that never seemed to leave him.

Quinn, oblivious or perhaps just avoiding the tension, didn’t seem to notice your silence. Without a word, he headed upstairs, his footsteps soft but steady, the sound growing fainter as he disappeared into the bedroom. A familiar ache settled in your chest as you stood there, staring down at the soapy water swirling in the sink. You could feel the sting of tears threatening to rise, but you blinked them away quickly, shaking your head at yourself.

Anger had been your companion all day, burning hot and steady in his absence. It had been so easy to hold onto, so easy to let the frustration build when you didn’t have to see him, when you didn’t have to look into those hazel eyes that always seemed to make your resolve crumble. The anger had felt justified when he wasn’t there—easy to fuel when it was just you, alone, staring at a cold, empty dinner table. But now that he was home, the anger began to unravel, slipping away and leaving only the sadness behind. It happened every time. That familiar pang of disappointment mixed with resignation, the sharp edges of your frustration softening into something more complicated, something you didn’t have the energy to untangle.

You bit your tongue, holding back the words you wanted to say—the questions, the accusations, the things that would start a fight you weren’t ready to have. You’d been here before, in this exact moment, torn between wanting to yell and wanting to break down. But you didn’t want to argue tonight. Not again.

The dishes were your only focus now, your hands scrubbing mechanically as your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t quiet. You wondered if he even knew how much you’d been waiting, not just tonight, but for weeks, months—for some sign that you still mattered in all of this, that you were still a part of his world. But it was getting harder to tell, harder to feel like you weren’t slowly fading into the background of his life, just like the sound of his footsteps fading upstairs.

By the time you finished the dishes and wiped down the counters, the kitchen was spotless, as if the day hadn’t happened at all. The room was clean, but the heavy silence remained, settling into the spaces between the freshly scrubbed surfaces. You paused for a moment, staring down at the empty sink, the exhaustion setting in—not just from the chores, but from everything that had been weighing on you lately.

When you finally made your way upstairs to the bedroom, Quinn had already begun his pregame nap. You stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame for a moment, just watching him. He was sprawled out on his stomach, the way he always slept, one arm curled beneath the pillow, his face turned slightly to the side. In sleep, the tension in his features was gone, the hard lines softened, and for a brief second, you felt a pang of something—nostalgia, maybe—for the way things used to be. Before all the pressure, before the distance between you had grown so wide.

You stood there, caught between wanting to crawl into bed next to him and knowing it wouldn’t make a difference tonight. He was already somewhere else, lost in the brief reprieve of sleep before the game. You let out a quiet breath and turned away, heading back downstairs, leaving him to his rest.

In the den, you curled up on the sofa, pulling a throw blanket over your legs as you flicked on the TV. The familiar theme song of One Tree Hill played in the background, but your mind wasn’t fully on the show. You watched the characters move across the screen, but their drama felt distant, unimportant compared to the real-life ache sitting in your chest. You’d seen these episodes a hundred times before, and yet tonight they felt like nothing more than white noise, a distraction to fill the space while Quinn slept upstairs.

Time passed in a blur of dialogue and background music, your eyes unfocused on the screen. You’d just started another episode when you heard footsteps approaching. You barely registered them until Quinn appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame just like you had earlier. He stood there for a moment, running a hand through his hair, before exhaling a deep sigh that seemed to carry the weight of everything unsaid between you.

"I missed dinner," he said, his voice quiet. It wasn’t a question, just a statement. The guilt was there, hanging in the air between you, but it didn’t quite land the way you wanted it to.

You turned your head toward him, feeling the familiar mix of emotions bubbling up—frustration, sadness, the lingering ache of disappointment. You nodded slowly, your voice calm but clipped. "You did."

That was all you said. Two simple words, but they carried so much more. The weight of your unspoken thoughts lingered in the air between you: You missed more than dinner. You missed me. You missed us. Again.

For a moment, Quinn didn’t say anything, just stood there, as if searching for something to say that would make it better. But nothing came. The silence stretched on, and you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the same exhaustion that you felt deep in your bones. Hockey had taken so much from him, and in its wake, it felt like there wasn’t much left for the two of you.

You shifted on the couch, turning back to the TV, not sure what else there was to say. If you opened your mouth now, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop the flood of everything you’d been holding back. So you stayed quiet, letting the distance between you grow a little wider, hoping—just once—that he’d be the one to cross it.

Quinn lingered in the doorway for a moment longer, the silence between you heavy and uncomfortable. You could feel his eyes on you, like he wanted to say something, to bridge the growing gap, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he just stood there, his shoulders slumped, the weariness from the day etched into every part of him.

You kept your eyes on the TV, pretending to be more interested in the show than in the ache inside you. You didn’t trust yourself to look at him right now—not when the quiet between you felt so suffocating, so loaded with everything neither of you were saying. If you looked at him, you were afraid the dam would break, and all the frustration, the loneliness, the resentment that had been simmering beneath the surface would come pouring out.

He took a deep breath, and you could hear the slight hesitation in the exhale, like he was on the verge of speaking but didn’t know where to start. "I’m sorry," he finally muttered, the words barely audible, but they hung in the air nonetheless. It wasn’t much, and it wasn’t enough, but it was something.

You closed your eyes for a brief second, letting the apology settle in, but it didn’t ease the ache. You had heard it before—too many times now. It always came after the fact, always when it was too late, and it never felt like enough to patch up the cracks that were forming between you.

Opening your eyes, you kept your gaze fixed on the TV, though you weren’t really watching. "You always are," you said softly, your voice lacking the sharpness you intended. There was no anger left, just a quiet exhaustion that had taken its place. "But it doesn’t change anything, Quinn."

The words hung between you, heavy and final. You didn’t mean for them to sound so distant, so resigned, but that’s where you were now. It wasn’t just about tonight, or the missed dinners, or the broken promises—it was about the slow unraveling that had been happening for months, the quiet slipping away of the relationship you once had.

Quinn pushed off the doorframe, his expression unreadable as he took a few steps into the room. He stood at the edge of the sofa, as if unsure whether he was welcome to sit down. His eyes, those familiar hazel eyes that once made your heart skip, were full of something—regret, frustration, maybe even guilt. But none of it seemed to change the fact that he wasn’t there when you needed him most.

"I know," he said, almost under his breath. He rubbed a hand over his face, the fatigue obvious. "I’m trying, I really am. It’s just—this season… it’s a lot." His voice trailed off, and you could hear the helplessness in it. He didn’t know how to fix this, and maybe he didn’t have the energy to try anymore.

You nodded, finally turning to look at him, but the sadness in your gaze must have said more than your words ever could. You understood that the season was demanding. You understood the pressure, the expectations, the endless grind. But understanding didn’t make it any easier to deal with the growing distance, the nights spent waiting, the feeling that you were slowly becoming an afterthought in his life.

"I know it’s a lot," you replied quietly, meeting his eyes for the first time since he’d walked in. "But it’s not just about the game, Quinn. It’s about us. I’m still here, waiting for you to show up… and I don’t know how much longer I can keep waiting."

The vulnerability in your voice hung in the air, and for a brief moment, you saw the conflict flicker across his face—worry, a twinge of something else, maybe fear. He took another deep breath, his hands flexing at his sides as if he wanted to reach out to you but wasn’t sure how.

"I don’t want to lose you," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper, as if admitting it out loud made it all too real.

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening at his words. For a second, you almost believed him, almost let yourself hope that this was the moment he’d truly understand how close he was to losing you. But then reality sank in, and you realized that wanting wasn’t enough.

"You already are," you said softly, the weight of your admission settling over both of you like a heavy blanket. You saw his expression falter, the pain in his eyes unmistakable, but there was nothing more you could say. You were tired—tired of the waiting, tired of the excuses, tired of being second to hockey and everything else in his life.

Quinn stood there, rooted in place, his eyes searching yours for some sign that he could fix this, that there was still time. But you didn’t know how to make him understand that you needed more than apologies, more than empty promises. You needed him to be here, fully present, not just physically but emotionally.

Without another word, he let out another sigh and slowly walked back toward the doorway, retreating once again into the space between you that had become too wide to cross. And you stayed on the couch, watching the TV, your heart aching with the truth you couldn’t ignore any longer: the Quinn you once knew was slipping away, and you didn’t know if he would ever come back.

My Patreon, where you can find exclusive fics not posted anywhere else: HERE

[slapintoaslimjim]

heyy! i’m new here and this is my first request! could you write about reader being oblivious to the way katsuki feels abt her (but reader feels the same way) like an intense friends to lovers??

this would mean so much to me! please and thank u <3

a/n: ahhhh requited love story! i need this after the gut wrenching story i just made- because unrequited love ruins me every single timeee. so i gotchu baby!

From the start.

now playing: Freudian by Daniel Caesar

warnings: none, just a fluff story with some tension but nothing angsty or miscommunication. fem reader :3

katsuki and you had a rocky start; but to be fair katsuki did with everyone in class 1-A. well, everyone in UA, even the staff, to be exact.

he was brash, loud, and arrogant his first semester in UA. pushing people away and solely focusing on himself and wanting to be japan’s future number one hero. he didn’t care how he got there, who he gained and lost, he just knew what he wanted.

but all of that quickly switched around fast; being in a class- school even, filled with students of different quirks, strengths, weaknesses, and abilities that actually challenged katsuki left him absolutely humbled. he quickly realized that he has met his matches, challenges, people who actually were up for competition. one of those people being you.

despite your personality being a cute goofy dork, your quirk was unmatched. strong, battling, and fierce. and when you were on the battlefield training, your combat skills were remarkable; precise. and despite being so strong on the grounds, you were still.. you. your authentic self. and something about that dragged katsuki to you like a moth to a flame.

but, gradually over time, katsuki became more open to the idea of friends with his classmates, even showing how much he cares for his friends and classmates through battles and little actions he does. which eventually opened up the door for you to sneak in and become his friend.

you were persistent with it at first, but never pushed any boundaries. acknowledging that maybe he’s just here for becoming a hero and never wanting to get attached to anyone. maybe fear of after graduation he would never see much of his current classmates again- but either way you figured it dug a little deeper.

but when katsuki did finally let his guard down and made friends, much to your surprise, the two of you clicked really well. he had a brash way of showing affection- like calling people he cared about “dumbass” or “idiots” but after being around him for so long, you knew not to take it to heart. you thought of it similar how you and mina would greet each other with a “oh my gosh hey bitch wassup?!”. friendly and affectionate.

but what katsuki didn’t prepare himself for- or more or less kinda forgot; was that he was still a human being with thoughts, feelings, and emotions no matter how hard he wanted to ignore those natural human things. why? because of you.

you.

as the friendship blossomed in between the two of you, katsuki became softer around you without realizing it. things like making sure you’re pushing yourself to your limit durning training- but without harming yourself. packing an extra water bottle specifically for you in case if you forgot your water bottle in your dorm. making sure you actually eat a balanced meal with carbs and protein before training so you were actually making progress other than thriving off of the third dr pepper of the day you’ve been drinking.

it was subtle; and he did similar things for his other friends like kirishima and even midoryia. but gradually over time, without even noticing, the subtle things turned into more direct actions. like his heart was speaking for his head.

reaching for your hand in busy or crowded rooms, covered up with “don’t need you getting lost in here” to him even getting more protective over you. mineta says something to you and suddenly he’s looming behind you scowling at mineta; daring him to say something else without even saying anything verbally to the short boy.

but then over time it got even less subtle. and before he knew it. that lingering feeling in his chest was more and more prominent.

especially with the nickname you called him- only your nickname for him. suki.

it’s was just something about the way it rolled off your tongue when you called to him with that beautiful smile of yours. your voice sounding like an angel calling down to him-

no no no no

and then he realized, the privileges he gave you that no one else was aloud to take; invading his personal space, coming into his dorm like the two of you were roommates, the nickname. to smaller subtle things like stolen glances or being able to make each other laugh so easily. this boy was in love.

and katsuki tried to drop more hints to you. cooking you meals- your favorite food to be exact like it was no big deal. dropping compliments randomly that caught you off guard, the list was endless of what he thought wasn’t subtly telling you he loved you.

but it all backfired because unfortunately, you, ever the vibrant star you are, smart cookie you, were incredibly oblivious.

here you sit, in the common room with the girls of 1-A as you all gossip and talk for the girls night all of you usually have on certain saturday nights when all of you were free.

the conversation shifted into crushes, romantic talk, and Mina immediately shifted the attention onto you without even directly doing it.

“oh my gosh, that reminds me, has anyone else realized how… soft bakugou has been around y/n the past month?” mina’s voice immediately beams in, her tone curious and awestruck more than anything.

“wait, so it wasn’t just my imagination?” uraraka cuts in immediately, seeming as she’s also noticed the change in katsuki’s behavior around you.

“uh i don’t think it’s like that” you counter with a small slow head shake and nervous giggle.

all the girls turn to look at you with a collective eyebrow raise that reeks of ‘girl.. are you for real?’ followed by a collective silence.

“what? he’s just being softer around everyone, yall act like im getting special treatment or something-“ you tried to defend yourself before tsuyu cuts you off.

“sure he’s been softer as of recently but he does give you special treatment” the frog quirked girl says as she eyes the choice of clothing your wearing.

you give them all puzzled looks, looking around the group of six girls seated around that are looking at you. and the gag; choice of clothing?

katsuki’s hoodie.

but you’re so used to wearing them so often that you didn’t even think about what you’re wearing or the fact that tsu and half of the girls are eyeing the hoodie.

days passed since that night, and you let it breeze past your mind. sure it lingered in the back of your mind, but you had mostly brushed it off. you were high school girls, of course crushes and relationships are going to be brought up and everyone will collectively psychoanalyze everything.

yet, here you were, once again, in katsuki’s dorm, wearing his hoodie, at his desk with him while the two of you studied together, with snacks that he bought specifically for you.

“eight would factor into the eight and sixteen, making it one half. we gotta simplify that before we factor the actual equation” katsuki explains the algebra problem with you, his voice surprisingly calm and patient, as you two work on the homework together; seeming as math has been a problem subject for you since you were younger.

your head rests on his shoulder as he explains and shows how to work the problem, and normally he would tense up when people touched him. but with you, his body actually calms, and doesn’t resist the touch or pull away. it feels natural, it feels right.

and things kept going like this for awhile, katsuki dropping hints that were less and less subtle by the day, you wearing his hoodies, invading his space, him even fully holding your hand. until one day he just had enough and cracked.

the two of you were out and about together, something he arranged himself to take you out for the evening. and for some reason; you still could not get the hint even after he bought you the necklace you were eyeing in a store like it was a common normal thing for him.

“you’re such a good friend ‘suki. it’s nice seeing how UA has made you grow as a person” you say with a bright smile after he even clasped the necklace around your neck for you.

something in him snapped. you had to be fucking with him at this point.

he scowled at you, personally offended underneath the night street lamp the laminated the both of you in the shopping strip you two were at.

“you’re fuckin with me, right?” he said with a dry humorless chuckle, unable to cross his arms cause for the love of all things holy he was even holding your bags.

you look at him confused, tilting your head slightly. “suki what are you talking about-“

“you think i do all of this as a friend?” katsuki interrupted you before he could stop himself. his tone wasn’t mad, slightly just slightly irritated yes because goddamn he’s been trying his hardest to prove to you that none of this is just ‘friendly acts’.

katsuki sighed through his nose, using his free hand to run through his messy blonde hair. “look, i know- fuck.” he cut himself off with a slightly frustrated sigh to himself at not knowing how to say the words that were literally stuck in his throat and begging for release.

that’s when it hit you. this did in fact run deeper than just a friendship.

but before you could speak, katsuki spoke again.

“i’m not the best with my words” katsuki admits, uncharacteristically soft. looking down at his feet as he gently swings the bags in his hand. “but im not doing this simply because we’re friends.” he spoke.

“do you see me being patient with other friends when studying with them? or cooking food specifically to their liking? letting them touch me whenever or for the love of fuck wear my clothes?” he spoke again, his voice a little rough but it’s not aggressive or angry, all while giving you a puzzled look.

the weight of his words left you speechless for a moment, and before you could say another word he continued.

“you’re one of the smartest people in our class but you’re kinda dumb ya know?” katsuki spoke with more of an affectionate tone rather than insulting, with a soft quiet chuckle before taking your hand in his.

“y/n.” he said firmly and softly, his eyes finding yours in a way that made it seem like he believed you hung the stars and moon the sky and painted the milky way itself.

“suki..” you replied softly, your eyes meeting his, and his look making your heart melt at the utter vulnerability in it.

“i love you.” he said so softly, barely above a whisper, but his eyes never left yours.

for just a short split second you hesitated at the words, the weight of them, before wrapping your arms around him in a tight warm hug and a soft smile on your face.

“i love you too, suki” you finally returned back softly.

katsuki’s arms wrap around you immediately, his hand dropping the bags so he can fully hold you against him. nothing could stop the adorably soft smile that crept up on his face at the sound of those words leaving your lips.

he held you close to him for a moment, basking in the warmth, security, and love of the embrace. something that felt right, like home; something he’s wanted from the start.

[yamumsyadadd]

hidden (2)

part one is here

For the most part, that’s how your relationship went for an entire year. Behind closed doors, hidden away from friends and family. It was truly exhausting.

There was one date out in public, the first and only one you ever went on. When Alexia asked you out, you didn’t even hesitate. The recommendation had come from Jana, it was her favourite hole in the wall restaurant that her and Jill found, she told anyone on the team who would listen.

In terms of first dates, it was awkward, the pressure to do small talk was evident but you both felt well past that. You had seen each other naked and done filthy things to each other before a date was even on the table.

The awkwardness broke when you asked about her foundation and the process of starting it. You leaned forward, fully absorbed into what she was saying. It was like a different side of Alexia was out that night, until she left you there. At the restaurant, alone.

After the waiter politely informed you that it was almost the end of your reservation, you went to the bathroom and Alexia said she’d wait at the front for you. Expect when you returned, she was gone. The waiter informed you that she settled the bill and then left.

It hurt, more than hurt actually. But once you saw Irene and her wife it all made sense.

“y/n, what are you doing here?” Irene’s gaze was intense, looking around for someone who could belong to you.

“Oh Jana finally convinced me to come here.” It wasn’t the best lie, but it was all you could come up with.

“Where is she?”

“Waiting at the car. I needed to use the bathroom, so she said she’d wait at the car, no point staying in here and being uncomfortable, right?”

“Right.” She slowly nodded.

“I better go. I’ll see you tomorrow at training!” you said your goodbyes and then left. Heading towards the carpark so your lie was somewhat more convincing. Alexia’s car was gone, she left. Truly left. No text message, no call, nothing.

Your brain was so confused. In the privacy of your apartment, alexia doted on you. She made you coffee and breakfast, even when she didn’t eat breakfast. But then at training, during the day, you didn’t exist.

As you walked home, a few tears slipped out. Was it your fault that she was like this? Was it how you looked? Were you simply not enough for her? While you walked, you sent Jana a simple message, no details, no fuss. 

If Irene asks, you and I went to dinner tonight.

You thought to yourself that if alexia wanted to pretend you didn’t exist, you would do the same to her. So you did. It only lasted an entire week. It was hard for you to ignore her late-night texts and calls, even harder when she would turn up to your apartment. But she never said anything to your face. At training, you didn’t exist to her expect for as a teammate, and you made sure you treated her the same way.

Sometimes, there was a flash of hurt across her face, it would only last a second or two, but you saw it. It made you feel guilty, sad for her, even if it was the same thing she as doing to you. So on the 7th night, you caved. Answering the door when she arrived fifteen minutes before midnight.

“Why have you been ignoring me amor?”

“Me? Ignoring you?” you couldn’t help the bitter laugh that came out, “Alexia, you pretend I don’t exist outside this apartment? At training? You don’t see me Alexia, really see me.” You didn’t realise that it actually hurt that much until you vocalised it, when she reached out to wipe a few tears that slipped, you let her. “You left me in that restaurant like an idiot. You didn’t call or text. I walked home crying because I thought I did something wrong.”

“No amor you didn’t. I promise. I saw Irene and Lucinda and freaked out. She doesn’t know how I feel about you; how alive you make me feel. I didn’t want her to find out, to try and burst our bubble. I’m sorry, truly I am. I will do better.”

You let her show you how sorry she was over and over again. And over the next two weeks, she did make more of an effort. At training, she didn’t ignore you, but neither of you wanted to outwardly tell your teammates about whatever this was between you two.

For two weeks she made you feel like you were on top of the world. Sending you restaurant ideas and talking openly about you meeting her family. When she asked you to be her girlfriend, officially, you said yes right way under the pretence that things wouldn’t change.

Slowly though, she slipped back into the way she was. When you’d laugh with Jana or Cata, she’d send a dirty look your way, as if you weren’t allowed to have your own friends outside of your relationship. The coldness returned fully after you asked about her family. Her mami and sister were at most of the games, and you simply wanted to meet them.

“no.” alexia didn’t even spare you a glance.

“No? alexia we have been dating for ages, they are always at the games and- “

“no. end of discussion.”

“But why Alexia?”

“Because I said no. why can’t you understand that.”

“I’m trying to understand why you are saying no. what about me makes you so ashamed?”

“Dios Mio, you are so dramatic. You aren’t meeting my friends or my family. End of conversation. If you keep going, then I’m going home.” Your heart broke. She is ashamed of you, but for what reason you didn’t know.

“You should leave.” You said quietly. Feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

“amor- “

“No go home alexia.” You slammed your bedroom door closed, sliding down the back of it and letting yourself cry into your knees. She left quickly after that, slamming the door hard and it caused you to cry even harder.

There was no one you could talk to about this. You’d promised to keep your relationship on the downlow, your friends at home didn’t even know. So you cried yourself to sleep. Alexia was still mad when you arrived at training the next day. Everyone was on edge as their captain stomped around the locker-room.

“God what is her problem today?” Jana said as she sat down next to you.

“Maybe she got dumped?” Esme whispered, you felt your chest tighten. Theres no way that Esme could know, is there? When you went to look up at her, she was already looking at you, eyes soft with pity.

“Maybe.” You said with a shrug, looking back down at the floor.

Alexia stayed mad, all day. You tried to ignore her, to focus on training but that became impossible when you were forced to face her in the final part of training. At first it was fine; she didn’t need to mark you and you were able to keep clear.

Then Jona changed things. With every elbow and every shove you could feel yourself growing more annoyed. By the end of it you decided to play her game, you wouldn’t let her treat you like this. At home or at training.

The tackle was clean, you didn’t make any contact with her body, only the ball. But the sheer force of it forced alexia to stumble, sending her body hurling to the ground.

“What the hell was that!” she screamed in your face.

“Ale, it was a clean tackle.” Irene came in-between the two of you before you had a chance to bit back.

“Bullshit it was!”

“Enough!” Jona’s voice cut through, “trainings done. Everyone go home.”

You all but ran back to the locker-room, not wanting to deal with the questions from your friends nor the wrath from Alexia. You didn’t move fast enough though because she came bonding in.

“What is your problem!”

You scoffed at her, as if she didn’t know she was the cause of it all, “leave me alone alexia.”

“No. you’re behaving like a child! You-“

“A child? Me? I think that’s you. Ever since-“ Irene’s entrance into the locker-room stopped you dead in your tracks, this wasn’t the time nor the place for it. “Forget it. Forget everything Alexia.” You through your bag over your shoulder and left. Ignoring the pleas from Jana and cata to stop.

The fight lasted a few weeks, it wasn’t completely radio silent. You would let her come over when you needed sex but never when she needed it. It wasn’t until right before Christmas break that Alexia came over and wouldn’t leave until you talked to her.

“I’m sorry okay? Im sorry.” She pleaded through the door.

“Go home Alexia.”

“Please let me talk to you and then I’ll go.”

“Talk.” You knew that as soon as she was in front of you, you’d forgive her. You love her too much not too.

“Open the door please.” And you did. Alexia looked like shit, in one hand she held a piece of paper, and the other was tucked safely in her pocket.

You left her standing there in the hallway, walking to the couch and sitting down. For a moment, alexia hesitated. She wrote a letter with everything she wanted to say, but now that she was here, she was scared.

She cleared her throat before starting, “I am incredibly sorry for the way I have treated you for the last four months. You deserved better, the truth is that I’m scared. Because I love you, so much. Every time we are together, I never want to be separated, I want to marry you, to have a family with you. But I can’t be public with this. Not now and maybe not ever.”

“Alexia, not once did I ask you to make this relationship public. I just wanted to be seen by your friends or your family. I wanted to know them, but you refused. Never telling me why and starting fights instead.”

“I know, I know. You can meet them, my sister, Alba, she would love you. My mami too. Please just let me show you.” She came to crouch in front of you, pulling your hands apart and placing hers on top.

“Okay.” You whispered out, getting lost in her hazel eyes as she searched yours.

Her hands cupped your face, and she kissed you hard. There were only a few days between the conversation with Alexia and Christmas break. To be fair to her, she did take you out. It was only to the Barcelona Christmas festival, but to you it was something. She openly held your hand, took photos of you and with you. Laughed and genuinely seemed like she was a changed person.

even over the break, while you were in America and she was in Spain, she called, she texted, she put in effort. To you, alexia had changed, had become the person she promised you.

She kept the promise of introducing you to her sister, it was only brief, but it was enough to satisfy you for now. There was a comment she made, about how it was almost Alexia’s birthday, something you knew, but what you didn’t know was that there was a party planned. A party you weren’t invited to.

There was a part of you that held out hope, that alexia would incite you, but she was just waiting for the right time. But that hope quickly disappeared as you sat there on your couch, on February 4th waiting for your girlfriend to turn up. She had agreed, you would make a nice dinner, give her a present and sex. But as the clock ticked closer to 1am, you realised that you were being stood up.

It was a reoccurring event. Alexia would make a promise, shed break the promise, a fight would ensue and then apologies, she’d change for a few weeks, maybe even a couple of months, but then go back to how it was. You decided, then and there, you’d give her until May, after that, if she hadn’t changed probably, then it was the end.

When may rolled around, you knew what you had to do. It was just about the timing. You didn’t want to go through a breakup in the weeks leading up to the champions league final, but you also didn’t want to continue in this hell scape of a toxic relationship.

Every time you tried, you chickened out. You couldn’t even bring yourself to stop inviting her over. As you stood in your living room, looking at all the odds and ends that Alexia had left in your apartment, a knock sounded.

“Esme?” you were confused, none of the girls had really ever been at your apartment, “Are you ok?”

“I actually came here to ask you that.”

“Come in.” you moved out of the way, letting her lead the way through to your loungeroom. Neither of you spoke for a little bit, Esme was looking around the apartment, probably making note of all of Alexia’s things like you had done mere minutes before her arrival.

“I have a girlfriend.” Esme looked at you, really looked at you, “we have a private relationship. But all our friends know, occasionally we post each other on Instagram but not super often, it’s something we both prefer… but you and alexia are different?”

“How did you know?” You were shocked, truly.

“I live a few doors down. I’ve seen you, in the hallway, in the garage. I’ve heard the fighting too.”

“it’s complicated.” She gave you a look to go on, you took a deep breath and unloaded, “for almost a year we have been in this cycle. I want to meet her family and her friends, but she doesn’t want it. At training, she acts like I don’t exist, but here, at home, it’s like im the only person in the world. I’ve tried, and tried, but it only starts fights and now, well, I’m tired.”

“there’s a difference between a relationship being a secret and hidden. Yours seems to be hidden.”

“It is. I don’t want that. I love Alexia, I love her so much, but all the fighting and making up, I can’t keep going like this.”

“you’re going to back up with her?” you nodded your head, Esme raised her eyebrows, “can you like wait? Until after the champions league? I’d like to win.” You laughed at that, because you too wanted to win.

The champions league final was electric. Something you had never experienced and were so incredibly grateful that you got the chance. By the end of the game, Barcelona were the European champions.

It was probably the high of the win, mixed with the alcohol, but when Alexia pulled you into her side and dragged you to meet her family, you felt almost disgusted. It seemed that you were only now worthy of meeting them because you scored in the final.

As you looked toward Esme, Irene stepped into your line of sight. She did not look happy at all, and you knew she wasn’t a fan of this relationship which made you feel better about ending it.

After the high of the Champions League win and the end of the season looming, you knew it was time. Alexia would stay in South America after the team had left, then going to her own camp to prepare for their first Olympics, you would fly back to America and stay there until it was time.

The plan was simple, you invite Alexia over, break up with her and then lock yourself in your room. But that never worked. Every time she came over, she looked even more beautiful, there was a glow about her, something you couldn’t shattered.

So as you sat on the plane, flying the mere two hours back to LA before international break, you sent her a simple text. You knew it was fair, but she hadn’t been fair for the majority of the relationship.

To Alexia: I can’t do this anymore, I’m sorry alexia.

You tucked your phone away, letting the tears fall. Just because it needed to be done doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

[venusbyline]

Hear me out! Just hear me out!

Alicent sending Teen! Innocent! Sister to Oldtown to receive proper training in being a Lady of the Realm and Wife. ( so they have to be apart for a year ) And Teen! Aegon being so desperate for his Teen! Innocent! Sister when she returns, with still a month before they can marry, that the little pervert leaves her ‘gifts’.

Cumming in her panties, humping her pillow, leaving books about consummation on her bed, cum soaked small clothes, lacy chemises that he wants her to ‘wear’ for their wedding night, etc.

Like a sick twisted cat leaving a dead animal as a gift.

But, when she brushes it off / ignores it as she’s been taught it’s ‘improper’ to retaliate or acknowledge it as a Lady / his future wife. He takes it further, dangling over the ledge of improper and proper etiquette while in public.

Accidentally brushing against her when walking past - even though there is plenty of room, hugging her from behind - only to subtly grind against her when she kneels down to pray in the Sept, whispering all the sick and twisted things he’s gonna do to her when they marry in her ear.

 What do you think?

Oh Gods that was sooo hot, I love it. Honestly, I'm so obsessed with teen!Aegon being a disgusting pervert or a pathetic whiny boy.

Pls guys keeping sending me your horny thoughts about HOTD characters!!! 🔥🔥

⚠️: Targcest (older brother/younger sister), underage dry humping, exhibitionism, dubcon, virginity kink, corruption kink, young!Aemond mentioned.

I admit I do not think teen!Aegon's patience would last long. He is been without his little sister for a whole year, having to settle with just fucking whores and forcing himself on random servants. Now that she is finally back, he NEEDS her so much. Poor boy just wants to fuck her virgin cunt until she cries and squirts all over, but the sweet girl is being even more stubborn and prudish than before, and Aegon gets so mad at Alicent because of that.

When his sister simply ignores all of his perverted gifts, Aegon stops trying to convince her and starts acting dirtier. He will caress his sister's inner thigh under the table during family dinners, even when she looks at him so confused and innocent. He will rub his hardness against her body when they are near each other, ignoring the embarrassed looks from the servants and the way she tries to push him away, or even the disgusted and frightened look on Aemond's face when he walks into his older brother's chambers and sees him cumming in one of his dear sister's underwear to give back to her later — Aegon had to convince Aemond not to tell their mother or Ser Criston. Actually, Aegon convinced the stubborn younger boy with an agreement that he could even let Aemond eat their sister out after Aegon was already married to her. Now, little Aemond is a mix of shyness and arousal, so excited for this day too.

Anyway, Aegon soon loses the brief of control he had left when he goes looking for his younger sister and finds her kneeling and praying in the Sept. Fuck, he wants to rip that green dress of hers and take her right there, so the Seven can see that plump little cunt blooding and dripping onto the sacred ground. Aegon does not care about the good manners she learned in Oldtown; he does not want a religious puritanical wife like their mother. He takes advantage of her distraction during the prayers to kneel right behind the innocent frame, his slender fingers covering her pretty mouth before she can scream at the sudden touches. The smell of lit candles increases Aegon's arousal even more. The boy looks like a hound, rubbing himself against the young princess, nibbling on her earlobe.

"I should fuck you right here, sweet sister. For all the Gods to see me take your innocence..." Aegon growls the whispered dirties, feeling his long silver hair getting sweaty, hips humping her from behind. He uses his free hand to lift the silk green dress, enjoying the pleasure of her warm skin against his. She whines muffled protests, however, the older one just ignores her pleas for a while. "I have tried to be patient with you. But I cannot wait any longer, I want to fuck you until your tight cunt is all raw, reddish and dripping with my seed. I am going to get you pregnant even before our wedding ceremony."

Maybe he could have really done all of those things? Of course. But I bet his heart softened a little when she started begging, crying his name like a innocent child. Then, despite the frustration, Aegon limited himself to continuing to rub his thick cock against his sister's ass, squeezing her breasts over her clothes. The boy takes the opportunity to cum on her soft skin, slapping her buttocks and kneading the flesh there afterwards, a silence but sick promise that even if he will control himself to wait one more week, he will fuck the girl all the time after they are officially married.

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Finale

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: angst, tension

I stand there, frozen, not knowing how to feel. I’m confused.. upset.. Angry? Was this planned? Am I the idiot here, or is Christina just being a complete weirdo?

Judging by the looks on the boys’ faces on stage, it’s definitely the latter. Nick’s eyes widen, and Chris immediately turns to Matt, his expression somewhere between confused and concerned. The whole crowd starts buzzing, some gasping, others laughing, waiting for Matt’s reaction.

But how Matt responds to this? That tells me everything I need to know.

He shifts his weight, glancing at the screen where Christina’s face is still on display. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just looking at her with an unreadable expression. Then, he lets out a dry laugh and leans into his mic.

"Wow. Uh.. bold move. Really bold move."

Chris covers his mic, turning slightly away to hide his laughter, while Nick just mutters, "Ain’t no way" under his breath. The crowd? Losing their minds, some gasping, others laughing, a few already chanting “Nooo way”.

Matt tilts his head, as if considering his words carefully, but I can see the smirk creeping onto his face.

"Christina, I gotta give it to you, you are persistent. Really committed to the bit, huh?" He pauses for dramatic effect, the crowd eating up every second. Then, he shrugs. "But listen.. I think we both know this isn’t some sort of rom com. No dramatic third act reunion, no ‘I’ve changed’ moment. That ship? Yeah, it’s not just sailed, it sank. And I, for one, am not tryna go deep sea diving."

Chris fully doubles over laughing at that, and Nick lets out a low whistle. The audience erupts, a mix of cheers, gasps, and “Ohhh shit” reactions.

Matt leans back from the mic, shaking his head with a smirk. "Appreciate the confession, though. Real brave of you. But me? I’m real good where I’m at."

He doesn’t say my name, doesn’t need to. His eyes flicker toward where I’m standing in the wings, just for a second. But it’s enough.

Christina forces a laugh, nodding like she’s unbothered, but I see her face drop for a split second before the screen cuts away.

And just like that, I exhale.

Matt handled that perfectly.

He lets out a quick laugh, shaking his head as he steps back toward the mic.

"Well, damn.." he says, rubbing his jaw like he’s trying to process what just happened. "I thought I was the one with the surprises on this tour, but clearly, I got that wrong."

The audience erupts, some gasping, others laughing. Nick and Chris are both grinning like they can’t believe what just happened.

Matt exhales, still smirking. "Uh, yeah.. that definitely caught me off guard. Not exactly what I had in mind for tonight, but hey, at least y’all are entertained." He tilts his head toward the crowd.

There’s a pause, and for a second, I wonder if he’s going to say anything serious. But then he shakes his head again and glances toward Nick and Chris.

"You know what? I was gonna drop my own surprise tonight, but I think I’m gonna save that for somewhere a little less.." He gestures toward the big screen, where Christina’s name has finally disappeared. "Chaotic."

The audience loses it, cheering, laughing, shouting out guesses about what his actual surprise could be.

Chris claps Matt on the shoulder, still grinning. "Yeah, I think that’s a solid call, man."

Nick just shakes his head and mutters, "Only on this tour."

The boys wrap up the show section and transition into the meet and greet. As they come off the stage, Matt makes a beeline straight for me. His face is pale, his jaw clenched, he looks like he’s just seen a ghost. And honestly, I know exactly what’s haunting him.

Before he even gets a word out, I sigh. "Matt, I know."

His brows knit together. "I swear I didn’t know she was gonna do that. What the fuck is she even doing here? That was-"

"I know" I cut him off, reaching for his hand instinctively. "You handled it really well. You didn’t entertain it, you didn’t make it weird.. if anything, you made her look dumb."

Matt lets out a breath he must’ve been holding, nodding slightly. "I just-" He shakes his head. "I didn’t want you thinking for a second that I had anything to do with that shit."

"I didn’t." And that’s the truth. As messy as things got before, I trust him now. Christina pulling something desperate like that only confirmed how little of a shot she really had.

His shoulders relax a bit, but I can tell he’s still frustrated. "You sure?"

I squeeze his hand. "Positive."

A flicker of relief crosses his face before Nick calls over from across the room, reminding him they’ve got a line of fans waiting.

"Go" I tell him, nodding toward the meet-and-greet area. "We’ll talk later."

Matt pulls me in for a quick but meaningful kiss before he heads off toward the meet and greet area. But just as he’s about to walk away, he suddenly stops, turning to one of the tour staff.

"Hey" he says, voice sharp. "Make sure Christina’s barred from all future shows. I don’t want her pulling this shit again."

The staff member nods immediately, and Matt doesn’t even look back, just nods in satisfaction before finally heading off to greet the fans.

I let out a breath and shake my head. As much as tonight rattled him, he handled it exactly how he needed to.

I catch his eyes one last time before he disappears into the crowd. "I’m gonna chill out on the bus for a bit while you guys do meet and greets" I call over to him.

"You good?" he asks, concern flickering across his face.

I nod. "Yeah. Just need a second to breathe."

He hesitates like he wants to say something else, but Nick pulls him along before he can.

I take that as my cue to slip out of the venue, heading toward the bus. A break sounds nice, but the truth is, I just need a moment to let everything sink in.

As I walk through the parking lot, just trying to get to the bus and clear my head, I hear someone call my name.

I freeze.

Is this bitch ever going to leave me alone?

I turn, and sure enough, standing by a car with her arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on her face, is Christina.

"Running off so soon?" she taunts, tilting her head. "Figured you'd want to stick around after that little show."

I exhale sharply, clenching my jaw as I stride toward her. "Are you actually out of your mind?" I snap. "Pulling that shit in front of thousands of people? What was that supposed to accomplish?"

She shrugs, feigning innocence. "I just told the truth. I still have feelings for Matt. And I think, deep down, he still has feelings for me too."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah? Thats why he had security make sure you're banned from all future shows?"

Her smirk falters, but she recovers quickly. "Oh please. That’s just because you’re in his ear. We both know if I had more time, I could remind him of what we had."

My blood boils. "Christina, you lied about him sleeping with you. You’ve been manipulating situations from the start, and now you’re embarrassing yourself in front of thousands of people? Move on with your life."

She takes a step closer, lowering her voice. "You really think he’s done with me? Just like that?"

I don’t hesitate. "I know he is."

Her nostrils flare, and for the first time, I see it, she’s pissed. She was expecting me to crumble, to doubt, to let her words sink in and ruin what Matt and I have been rebuilding. But instead, I’m standing my ground, unshaken.

I take a step back, done with this conversation. "Stay the fuck away from us, Christina" I say firmly. "Whatever fantasy you have in your head? Let it go. Because Matt already did."

As I turn to walk away, Christina scoffs loudly. "Yeah, keep walking. That’s all you’re good at, right? Running after Matt like a lost little puppy."

I stop dead in my tracks. Oh, she wants to play.

I spin back around, crossing my arms. "You’re hilarious, Christina. Truly. It’s so funny how you’re out here, standing in a parking lot, after humiliating yourself in front of thousands of people, still trying to convince yourself that Matt gives a single shit about you." I tilt my head mockingly. "While I’m the one on the tour bus."

She narrows her eyes. "You think just because you’re with him now, it means you won?" She lets out a bitter laugh. "I’ve known Matt a lot longer than you have, sweetheart. He always comes back to me."

I snort, actually snort at the delusion. "Oh my God, you sound exhausted. You must be so tired from running all these mental gymnastics. Matt doesn’t have anything to go back to, especially not some desperate, lying, washed up one night stand who has to publicly confess her ‘feelings’ just to get his attention."

Her face twists in anger. "I am not desperate."

I let out a dramatic gasp. "Oh? So it was just, what, a casual public confession? Just for a laugh? Just throwing shit out there, hoping it sticks?" I take a step closer, lowering my voice mockingly. "Face it, Christina. You played yourself. You thought you could stir up drama, and instead, Matt shut you down and made sure you’d never pull this shit again." I smirk. "You’re not competition. You’re not even relevant."

Her mouth opens, then shuts, her hands clenching into fists. I can practically see the steam coming out of her ears, and it’s hilarious.

And with that, I stride toward the bus, feeling lighter than ever.

I shut the door behind me, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I lay back on the bus, pulling my phone out and mindlessly scrolling through TikTok, needing something to distract myself. But, of course, the algorithm is already on it. My entire feed is flooded with clips from the show, Christina’s confession, Matt’s reaction, and everyone’s very vocal opinions on it.

I tap on a video with the caption “NAH THIS WAS WILD” and watch as the camera captures the exact moment Christina’s name popped up on the screen. The crowd collectively gasping, people whispering, a loud “oh hell no” from someone in the back. Then there’s Matt, standing there stunned before recovering with his usual sarcasm.

I swipe to the next one. A fan recording from their seat “Matt’s face is FRYING ME, bro did not expect that at all.” The camera zooms in on him blinking rapidly before laughing it off, shaking his head.

Another video: “POV you just witnessed the most desperate confession in real time” with a slo mo clip of the moment Christina’s face popped up on the big screen, followed by someone yelling "Girl, be so for real."

I actually let out a laugh at that one.

Then I come across a reaction video. A girl sitting in her bedroom, mouth open in shock. "No, because Christina actually thought she ate with that confession. The way Matt shut that down and then looked off to the side.. Anyone else think he might have a girlfriend??"

I shake my head, almost laughing, I wouldn’t call myself his girlfriend. Not yet anyway. I continue scrolling past more and more takes, all dragging Christina to hell and back. The internet is not on her side.

I smirk to myself, locking my phone and tossing it beside me. Looks like the world knows what I already did, Christina just played herself, and there’s no coming back from that.

I get a buzz beside me and I glance down at my phone, seeing Matt’s message light up the screen:

"Can you come to my dressing room? Chris needs help with something."

I stretch, letting out a small sigh before pushing myself up from the couch. Chris needing help? Shocker. I slide my phone into my pocket and step off the bus, making my way back inside the venue.

As I turn the corner, I spot Matt standing outside his dressing room door, shifting slightly on his feet like he’s waiting for me.

I narrow my eyes. “You good?”

He nods quickly, a small smirk pulling at his lips. “Yeah. Just.. got one more surprise in me today.”

I raise an eyebrow, but before I can ask, he grips the handle and pushes open the door.

My breath catches.

The entire dressing room is decorated, soft fairy lights strung up along the walls, scattered rose petals on the floor, and in the center, the words “May I Be Your Boyfriend?” spelled out in red balloons.

I freeze, my brain needing a moment to catch up. “Matt.. what-?”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking suddenly nervous. 

I turn to him, still stunned, my heart pounding. “You-” I swallow. “You did all this?”

“Well, Chris and Nick helped a little” he admits, glancing at the setup. “But yeah.” His voice softens. “I wanted to.”

I look around again, taking it all in, warmth spreading through my chest. After everything, after the chaos, the drama, the absolute mess of the night, he still made time for this.

I turn back to him, eyes meeting his. “Yes.”

His lips part. “Yeah?”

A grin tugs at my lips. “Yes, I’d love you to be my boyfriend.”

Before he can say anything else, I grab the collar of his hoodie and pull him into a deep kiss, feeling him smile against my lips as his arms wrap around my waist.

Matt pulls back just enough to look at me, his forehead resting against mine, a lazy grin playing on his lips. His hands stay firm on my waist, like he’s making sure I don’t go anywhere, not that I would.

“I’m glad you finally found the place you belong in my life” I murmur, my voice just above a whisper.

His expression shifts, something softer settling in his eyes, like he’s soaking in every word. His fingers tighten slightly against my waist. “Me too.”

I nod, a small smile playing on my lips. 

Matt exhales a little laugh, shaking his head. “Took me long enough, huh?”

I chuckle, nudging my nose against his. “Better late than never.”

He grins, then leans in again, capturing my lips in another kiss, slower this time, more deliberate. Like he’s savoring it. Like he’s making up for every moment before this one when we weren’t in this position together.

And in that moment, I know we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.

a/n : and thats all from me on the fic front for now!! (explanation here) i will miss writing but hopefully ill be back sooner than later! ive now 3 30+ part series done in 7 months and i cant thank you all for the love and support on them all, even the silent readers!! I cant believe the F&D era is over already but thank you all for sticking around and reading the last 12 weeks! im not leaving the app ill still be here so my inbox and messages are always open!! i love to give advice or just yap so you know where to catch me!! If you would like to be on the taglist for future fics when im back writing interact here!

lots of love,

Snowy <3

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[waynes-multiverse]

Finally doing my commentary here ❤️‍🔥 I really needed some time to even digest everything this masterpiece had to offer. And one particular part has even haunted me since then and has popped up multiple times during random chores lol. Truly shows how impactful this was ☺️🫶

Dean realizes something else then; the decision you’re making is changing the course of your whole damn life…and it’s his fault.

Well... It takes two to tango, buddy. I think you can lighten up lol

Apparently, condoms are fragile little shits.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours and achingly familiar. But ultimately, it’s chaste. He pulls away and settles back in his seat. When you blink your eyes back open, your expression is slack in shock.

Much like her, I fully freaked out at that part!!! Like, wtf, man!!! And all the while, my mind also went: "Well, he's surely gonna end it with Lisa now. It's the most logical conclusion." But NOPE! Our boy went a different way 😂

And I think it totally makes sense since he's still so freaking young!!! (He honestly reminded me of Buck in 911 lol – Idk if you watch it but he was very much a player firefighter like Dean) Essentially, they're both babies having another baby. It's already hard when you're a couple, but both of them being separate entities through this in a way makes it even harder. Although they try to be a unity, it's completely different since Dean isn't gonna be there 24/7 (which he also fully realizes the extent of it when she starts dating Benny).

But man, I wanted to slap him left and right, shake him awake, and tell him to get his head outta his goddamn ass 😆

This will be the recipe your son will grow up on, and every time he eats them, he’ll remember how much you loved him.

I was the exact same 😂😂 I still make my son most of his food myself instead of store bought (like apple sauce, bread, cookies etc.) ❤️

Now at seven months into your pregnancy, you’ve gotten to the embarrassing “waddle” stage.

Felt that lmao. Luckily, Robbie didn't sit on her ischiatic nerve and numbed half her leg too 🙄 I felt like a pinguin who got ran over by a truck 😂

“Benny! It’s good to see you.” “Yeah, been…a while,” he chuckles, glancing down at the swell of your belly, but he squeezes your shoulder and leans in to hug you gently.

Instantly knew where you were going with this. Probably the moment I started to brace myself and put my seatbelt on for this ride 🤣

Aw, poor Benny, who had probably wanted to go out with her since the wedding and then sadly realized Dean got there first 🥲

“I stopped drinking coffee for the baby. ”

Oooh, Alex, super important to know for you if you're ever going down the pregnant route: You're allowed a 12oz cup (up to 200 mg daily). Enjoy that coffee in the morning, girl 😏☕️

Two months later, the time has finally come. Your water breaks when you’re in the middle of teaching your second graders how to spell exaggerate—and no, Joey, it’s not e-g-g-zagerate.

Still love that her water broke in the middle of class lmao. This was honestly a big fear of mine whenever I went outside during that last stretch 😂

“Why the hell did he have to bring her,” you mutter to yourself, wiping sweat from your brow. Here you are, gritting your teeth through contraction after contraction in this damn hospital bed, and Dean is outside the room talking to Lisa.

My God, I hated it so much that Lisa thought it was a good idea to come and then pick a stupid fight, drawing Dean's entire attention away from such an important moment. His sole focus should be on reader and his son atm and not on this. I felt terrible for her here 🙈💔

It seems to you that all they do is argue, break up for a week or two, and then get back together again.

Dean not backing out of this relationship is one thing, but Lisa really should've ended it somewhere during reader's pregnancy or those first months after the birth. Yes, she liked him and wanted to try and make this work, but you gotta cut your losses at some point, girl, and walk away when your dignity's still intact. Even Mona broke up with Ross, and that was wild 🤣

Maybe Dean should've asked reader to move in with him and surprised Lisa with it. Maybe that would've finally done it. She was resilient and hopeful till the bitter end lol ❤️‍🩹

Again, he strokes the baby’s soft cheek. You look over at Dean with a small smile. “You’re going to be a good dad, you know,” you tell him. It earns his gaze. Although he’s trying to stay strong, you read the hidden insecurity there, the worry and fear. You rest a hand on his arm. “You are, Dean. You’re a good man, and you’ve really stepped up these past few months. This obviously isn’t how either of us thought our lives would go, but if this had to happen with someone, I’m glad it’s you.” Dean’s expression softens. He hesitates, but he lays a hand over yours and squeezes gently. “Thanks,” he says.

This was such a precious moment between them. Had tears in my eyes 😭😭

And then the goddamn cavalry arrives to break them apart! I hope for their second child they won't allow visitors till the next day lol 🙏

He saw how her “helpful” suggestion to have a get-together at their apartment to celebrate the baby’s birth was setting you on edge. Really, you just want to sleep for the next 24-hours and not have any more pictures of you taken.

Literally. How about you people just ask what momma wants, huh? I'm glad she had Dean there to support her, though 💕

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Also…sorry if I’m crossing some kind of boundary here. Looks like it’s a bit of a circus outside.”

Typical Benny 🥹 This was so incredibly sweet of him and she really needed that (even if it did cross boundaries a little. At least wait till she gets home from the hospital to shoot your shot, buddy lol). He really had it bad for her, and I think that made him blindsided in that regard 💔

You meet him with a wobbly smile. “Honestly? I’m afraid. I know I have a lot of people who want to support me, and I’m grateful, but…I just have this terrible feeling that we’re going to end up alone, him and me.”

That hit so deeply 😢 I cry during that scene with Rachel every time too 😭

Benny is a bit closed off though, the strong stoic type. He’s hard for you to get a read on, and sometimes you wonder if he’s just indulging you when you ramble on about your day or make silly jokes. Even now, sometimes you withhold the first thought that comes to your mind, hoping he doesn’t think you immature or…too much.

That really showcased that Benny truly wasn't the one for her, no matter how nice, kind, and considerate he was. It's sad, but it happens. Her heart always belonged to Dean from that first night on ❤️ In the end, it would've been unfair to both of them (even all four of them) if they all stayed together in those pairings.

And it's honestly not just on reader and Dean who went wrong by never admitting their feelings and talking it out like the grown-ups they aren't lol, but both Benny and Lisa are a bit selfish for staying with them as well. You can't tell me they didn't know or heavily suspect there were feelings there between them. Those two decided to butt into a young family, so they made that bed a little bit themselves, too 🤷‍♀️

Especially Benny – and hear me out, if Benny had been truly a good friend to Dean, he would've put his own feelings aside in the first place and talked some sense into him. But fair enough if he decided to go after her himself lol (I thought a lot about that specifically this week since we've talked about how Benny was a class act till the end, but honestly, this probably would've been even classier of him 🤝)

I don't know why I get so defensive of reader and Dean in this story, but I was rooting for them hard 😂🩵

He’s just got that manic kid energy that goes on for days. But Robbie’s also smart; like Dean, he likes taking things apart and putting them back together in new and ingenious ways.

It's like your describing my kid lol

And I love that both our HC is that Dean literally needs the threat of a proposal from another man to make a goddamn move 🤣

He’d always felt a little uncomfortable with one of his best friends dating you, but you’d seemed happy about it, so he didn’t discourage it. But he’d never been very supportive, either. At least, not about your relationship.

Yup, makes complete sense. And again, it's on both Lisa and Benny for looking the other way here and not noticing that 🤷‍♀️ They literally accepted that Dean would just fix things in reader's home all the time etc. and it was clear both were bothered by that. Denial all around with these four 😂

“Well you know what, it’s not! And it’s not just the damn bike either.” He swipes a hand over his face in annoyance, a telltale sign you’ve come to read well on the man. “Look, I’m missing too much shit, all right? Like, like the dinosaur thing! And the fact that I only get him on the weekends.” & It’s too much, knowing Benny’s slowly but surely carving out a father-figure role in Robbie’s life.

And this is the part that I thought most about. I sobbed then and I'm sobbing reading this again now. I was so incredibly heartbroken for Dean for missing out on all that shit. You just want him to have all the good things and enjoy being a dad to his heart's content, so this truly ripped me apart 😭😭😭

Honestly, he’s surprised she’s stuck around this long.

Same. Girl was committed 🤣

“Why?” she snaps. “You’re not his wife or his girlfriend. I should’ve been listed.”

But the mother of his son, which makes her family...

Lisa pissed me off during that scene, although I completely understand where she's coming from. Dean really broke her in a way. Still, she's known for five years what she's gotten herself into 😂

He decides to dig out his mom’s engagement ring from a locked box of his parents’ keepsakes, though he’s still waiting on the right time for it. He and Lisa start looking at houses though, for real this time. She hires a realtor and everything. He has to be okay with the fact that you’ll probably marry Benny. You’ll keep making him cookies and cakes, giving him your smile and your time and your body. And Robbie will probably think of Benny as more of a father than his own Weekend Dad. 

I swear I wanted to murder you and Dean here, Alex, aka the part where I really thought you were going to break my goddamn heart 😂💜💜💜

I was livid with that man lmao

And then that whole conversation at their parent's house!!! Fucking finally they're adressing this. Istg they better go to couple's therapy after and learn to communicate properly. Those skills are lacking with these two idiots 😅🙈

“Dean,” you gasp.

I loved how this was the scene that absolutely reached a boiling point with everyone!!! The drama queen in me was like, "Yes!! Let's go!!!" 🤣🤣👏👏

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads.

The "for once" does it for me 💀 (And then Dean using past tense when saying he loved Lisa 🤯)

I both feel for Benny and Lisa and think both of them handled the break ups incredibly well – no doubt about it. But that proves to me a little that they always knew it could end this way and just chose not to see it (even Benny admitted that at the end). Ultimately, it's a little hard for me to feel toooo awfully sorry for them, ya know? The old "you've dug your grave" story 😅

“I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…” And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

Fucking finally! 🥳 It's been a wild ride to get here, my sweet lil green-eyed idiot 💚🎢

I sobbed again during their wedding when Robbie brought him the ring and how happy he was that his parents were together 🥹

Honestly, I said it over on Patreon, but here again too: This was such an amazing, phenomenal, and yes, dramatic ride, but it was fucking worth every 20k word of it (if you can't tell by this extensively long and insane comment lmao). And I can't help falling in love with you... 💜💜💜

IF I STAY - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Deep breaths Are you ready for a rollercoaster of emotions? 😘❤️

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “It’s Now or Never” by Elvis

Word Count: 13.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, pregnancy feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, time jumps and flashbacks, sexual tension, mutual pining, spice~, and an ending…

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Now or Never

At the doctor’s office, Dean goes in with you for the first trimester ultrasound. There you learn that you’re going to have a boy. Tears well up in your eyes and slip down your cheeks.

Dean wears a look of amazement as he sits on the edge of your bed. He takes up your hand and squeezes gently. He tries to be a strong support, even though he also tries to hide the fear that begins to churn in his gut.

For one of the first times in his life since Sam was born, he feels the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. In a good way. In a fucking scary way.

He looks at you and sees the wonder written across your face while you watch the tiny shape of your baby on the screen. His heartbeat thwaps fast and loud in the speakers.

Dean realizes something else then; the decision you're making is changing the course of your whole damn life…and it’s his fault.

With his weekly hookup rate, in the very back shelves of his mind he knew something like this could happen, even though he thought he'd been careful. (Apparently, condoms are fragile little shits.) But here, in this white wall-to-wall room that smells like hospital antiseptic, that thwap thwap thwap of a heartbeat reverberating in his ears, the reality of this is crashing hard on his shoulders and rattling down to the base of his spine.

Despite his earlier happiness, those thoughts stay with him when you two eventually get back into his car. You have the pictures of the sonogram in your hands. You smile down at them before you put them back in your purse for safekeeping.

However, you notice Dean’s sudden melancholy as he stares out at the road. He’s started the car, but he hasn’t moved to pull out of the parking lot yet.

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you, incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours and achingly familiar. But ultimately, it’s chaste. He pulls away and settles back in his seat.

When you blink your eyes back open, your expression is slack in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he says, seeming sheepish, and guilty. “I meant to say thank you. Just didn’t know any other way to say it.”

After a moment, you smile at him. It’s warm and almost shy.

Dean clears his throat, trying to ignore the way his face is heating up. He doesn’t say anything more. He just takes the wheel and shifts gears, pulling the car out of the parking lot. 

You don’t know what possesses you to bake cookies. Dozens and dozens of them, all the chocolate chip cookie recipes you can find. You’re in search of the perfect one. This will be the recipe your son will grow up on, and every time he eats them, he’ll remember how much you loved him.

And then, he’ll be ruined for any other chocolate chip cookies that try to grab his taste buds. He’ll say, Blech. Chips Ahoy? These aren’t as good as Mom makes!

…Or something like that.

Yes, these cookies have to be perfect. You’ll even write the ingredients down on a notecard and hide it away, and it’ll become your family secret recipe.

Once you feel like your cookie game is strong enough, you decide to test these babies out. You bring two dozen painstakingly baked confections to Firehouse 83, where Dean works. The man is a bottomless pit, to be sure, but you also want other people’s unbiased opinions. For science.

You park your car on the side of the road, making sure you’re not blocking the driveway where two huge fire trucks are parked. You head inside the firehouse with your big container under your arm and your purse on the other. Now at seven months into your pregnancy, you’ve gotten to the embarrassing “waddle” stage.

You’re still determined to be active though! You plan to keep working until you have the baby. Your parents live a few hours away, but you’re grateful that they want to help out as much as possible.

Even though they weren’t happy to hear about how you got pregnant, by now they've met Dean and begrudgingly admitted to liking him. He's really stepped up to the responsibility of a future father, insisting on baby-proofing your apartment, helping you shop for the essentials, and going with you to as many doctor’s appointments as he can. He’s even agreed to giving you child support payments, even though you hadn’t wanted to ask for it.

You look for him now as you enter the firehouse, trying to push the heavy glass door open with one hand.

“Here, I got you,” says a familiar baritone voice.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the man who helps you inside.

“Benny! It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, been…a while,” he chuckles, glancing down at the swell of your belly, but he squeezes your shoulder and leans in to hug you gently.

“Dean filled you in?” you ask. You hope so. Having to explain the story to one of his own friends would be embarrassing, especially since this is the man you walked in Sam’s wedding with. It reminds you of that day, and the way you told Dean that news in a glorified closet, with shaking hands and the wrong kind of butterflies.

Thankfully, Benny nods. “That he did…but come on, I’ll show you around. And I see you’ve brought somethin’ special for us?”

He gestures at the container you're holding and offers to take it off your hands. You give it to him, grateful for the help.

“Yeah, and I want you guys to give me your honest opinion.”

Benny tosses you a wink and a smile. “That I can do.”

Your cheeks begin to warm in a blush, but the way he helps you to a comfy couch in the common room earns your smile. There are still good men left in this world, and you’re glad to know that Dean works so well with one.

“You want some coffee, or water? Think we might have some lemonade,” Benny says.

“Water would be great, thank you,” you reply, as you rub your belly. The little man has decided to kick at your liver today. “I stopped drinking coffee for the baby. ”

It's your biggest challenge, to be honest. Try wrangling a group of fifteen to twenty six-year-olds while running on green tea, the fumes of sleep deprivation, reduced bladder control, and as much vim as you can muster.

“Ah, right,” Benny nods. “My sister has two kids. She cut out coffee, pain meds, some dairy stuff. But she claimed cheesecake was all right, ‘cause it’s got cake in the name.”

You giggle. “I see no flaw in her logic.”

Down the hall of the firehouse, Dean is just coming back in from going through a set of drills. He’s still the Candidate—the freshest blood in the house—so they’ve been putting him through his paces for the past several months. He’s eager to learn and to prove himself.

His ears perk up in confusion though. Did he just hear your voice?

Why does it smell like a bakery in here?

When he rounds the corner, he sees you in the common room, smiling and giggling like a teenager at something Benny said to you while he eats a soft baked cookie right out of a Tupperware container. You must’ve brought it for the firehouse.

This cozy little scene kind of annoys Dean somehow, though he doesn’t know why. He does know that it shouldn’t.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Dean says, forcing himself to smile. It becomes easier when you look his way, your eyes brightening at his arrival.

“There you are! Come ‘ere and try these,” you say, pointing at the box Benny holds. “Tell me if our son’s going to have the best PTA mom ever.”

Dean can’t help but grin after trying a big bite of one of your cookies.

“Oh, mah Gah,” he says, holding a hand under his mouth so nothing comes crumbling out.

“Good?” you ask.

“Good friggin’ cookie,” he confirms, after he swallows. “You’re gonna have the other parents frothing at the mouth. Who’s gonna be able to compete with this?”

Benny nods in agreement. When Dean squeezes your shoulder, your sweet, happy smile makes him smile too.

She’s going to be a good mom, he thinks. He can only hope against hope that he can be the man his son needs.

Two months later, the time has finally come. Your water breaks when you’re in the middle of teaching your second graders how to spell exaggerate—and no, Joey, it’s not e-g-g-zagerate.

However, the embarrassment of him pointing out the fluid beginning to stain your slacks is swiftly cut off by your shock. Your first call is to the principal, to have her send someone to cover your class. Your next call is to Dean, telling him to meet you at the hospital.

“Why the hell did he have to bring her,” you mutter to yourself, wiping sweat from your brow. Here you are, gritting your teeth through contraction after contraction in this damn hospital bed, and Dean is outside the room talking to Lisa.

You know you have no real reason to be upset. She’s been trying her best to be your friend in recent months. Hell, she helped Eileen and your mom plan your baby shower. She even brought you flowers when she got to the hospital, but you notice how less than five minutes after she got here, she and Dean became embroiled in yet another argument. It seems to you that all they do is argue, break up for a week or two, and then get back together again.

The sex must be explosive, like the fireworks at goddamn Disney World.

But Dean eventually does come back into the room alone. His support grounds you over the next few hours. He lets you basically break his hand, all while he gives you encouragement (and stands by your shoulder, so he doesn’t see anything you’d rather him not see).

And then, your son is born. Every muscle, every cell in your body is exhausted, but the pain meds have kicked in, and you’re in that blissed out state between abject reality and being entirely entranced by the bundle in your arms. His perfect face is just there, sleeping for the moment after the nurses taught you how to breastfeed.

Dean returns to sit in the chair beside you. He gives you some water and a piece of a protein bar. You’re not that hungry, but he pointed out that you haven’t eaten since before your water broke.

“Sam and Eileen are on their way up,” he says.

You nod in reply. You’re too into your son right now to think of anything else.

Dean shakes his head in wonder as he reaches out with a tentative hand, brushing his fingers over the baby’s downy head. He was born with a little tuft of brown hair.

“Okay, down to business,” Dean says, shooting you a playful look. “I vote for Zeppelin.”

You groan. “Dean, no. Veto. I’m not naming my son after a rock band.”

“Aw, come on. It’s a badass name!”

“What about Aiden?” you suggest.

“Veto,” he snorts. You two agreed to getting five “vetos” each, but this discussion has been more like a battle of wills over the last several months.

“Okay, what about Daniel? That’s strong, classic,” you pose.

Dean considers it with a tilt of his head. “All right, that one’s a maybe.”

Again, he strokes the baby’s soft cheek. You look over at Dean with a small smile.

“You’re going to be a good dad, you know,” you tell him. It earns his gaze. Although he’s trying to stay strong, you read the hidden insecurity there, the worry and fear. You rest a hand on his arm. “You are, Dean. You’re a good man, and you’ve really stepped up these past few months. This obviously isn’t how either of us thought our lives would go, but if this had to happen with someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Dean’s expression softens. He hesitates, but he lays a hand over yours and squeezes gently.

“Thanks,” he says.

Your eyes meet, and it’s a moment charged with something you can’t even name. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this feeling with him. It both fills your heart with warmth, and makes you ache.

Then the door opens. It’s Lisa, Sam, and Eileen. Dean’s hand slips away from yours as they all pour in to congratulate you and Dean, and of course, meet the baby. There’s a lot of soft cooing and playful shushing.

In that small chaos, your parents call to tell you that they’re finally almost here. It really sucked not having your mom with you, but your parents live far enough away that they were going to take a train and stay with you for at least a week. Their train unfortunately got delayed due to mechanical failure.

It's okay though. Getting through the past several hours has made you realize that you’re stronger and more capable than you think, and even though part of you is still scared to death, you don’t need a husband to be a good mom. You’re going to give this your all, no matter who’s beside you…

And that's no more apparent than when Dean soon has to step out again, leading Lisa out of the room. He saw how her “helpful” suggestion to have a get-together at their apartment to celebrate the baby’s birth was setting you on edge. Really, you just want to sleep for the next 24-hours and not have any more pictures of you taken.

It gets loud enough outside your hospital room that Sam and Eileen feel they have to intervene. Lisa is Eileen’s best friend, and she’s the best equipped to try and deescalate the argument from that end, while Sam deals with Dean. It’s messy, it’s irritating, and it means that even today, you can’t just have a little bit of peace.

You sigh and cradle your still nameless baby close to your chest. He’s all that matters. Already, your heart is so damn full just taking him in.

“What’s your name, my little love?” you whisper. “What am I going to write on your certificate, besides Winchester?”

“How about Benjamin,” comes a Louisiana drawl.

You perk up and smile in surprise. “Benny, hey.”

He greets you with a slightly hesitant kiss on the cheek. He’s brought the baby an adorable teddy bear, and you a beautiful bouquet of white and blue roses, along with a box of chocolates.

“It’s the assorted kind, but they’ve got plenty of the caramel ones you like,” he says, then gazes down at the baby. “Aw, he’s a little charmer. Already got more of you than Dean, that’s for sure.”

You laugh lightly at his teasing. “I don’t know about that.” You hope your son inherits Dean’s strong jaw, and his green eyes.

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Also…sorry if I’m crossing some kind of boundary here. Looks like it’s a bit of a circus outside.”

You shake your head and smile through burgeoning tears. You set the chocolates on the end table where he’s placed the flowers and the teddy bear.

“No, it’s very sweet. Thank you,” you say. You glance out the window of your room to the hallway, where the arguing between Dean, Lisa, Sam, and Eileen seems to finally be calming down. You’re so damn tired, you don’t give a crap about whatever they’re hashing out now.

You look down at your son, and despite your strong thoughts earlier, insecurity begins to creep back into your mind like inky claws.  

“How are you holding up?” Benny asks. His face is kind and concerned when he notes the change in you.

You meet him with a wobbly smile. “Honestly? I’m afraid. I know I have a lot of people who want to support me, and I’m grateful, but…I just have this terrible feeling that we’re going to end up alone, him and me.”

You look down at your son, and you have to wipe away a tear from your eye before it falls on his face.

A large, warm hand rests over yours. Your gaze raises slowly, and Benny smiles at you. He’s serious though.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he says. “You’re not gonna be alone.”

FIVE YEARS LATER... 

For all that changes, there are some things that stay the same.

Dean and Lisa are still the world’s most “off again, on again” couple you’ve ever met. Sam and Eileen are still going strong as the hardworking, driven career couple. Your son is growing more and more every day and just started kindergarten this year.

(You ultimately caved on Dean’s idea to name him Robert, as in Robert Plant, lead singer of Led Zeppelin.)

Oh, yeah, and the “you and Benny” thing? That’s been going well for two years now.

What can you say? The man is persistent, but respectfully so. He’s considerate, reliable, and always calls you when work at the firehouse has him running late.

You haven’t yet invited him to move in with you. That part you’re still hesitant on, mostly because of your son, but Benny helps you drop off Robbie at school and makes breakfast for you all whenever he stays over your apartment. Benny takes an interest in your son’s life and keeps up with all his energy, taking him to the park to run himself ragged before dinner, and helping you tuck him in at night.

Benny is a bit closed off though, the strong stoic type. He’s hard for you to get a read on, and sometimes you wonder if he’s just indulging you when you ramble on about your day or make silly jokes. Even now, sometimes you withhold the first thought that comes to your mind, hoping he doesn’t think you immature or…too much.

But Benny shows his caring in all those little things he does for you. They add up into the big things, and he makes you feel supported. He makes you feel safe.

He even helps you plan your son’s fifth birthday. Robbie wanted to go all out on a dinosaur theme; he’s been hooked on Jurassic Park ever since Benny “accidentally” let him watch it with him on one of your rare nights out with your friends.

So you set up a little party at the park by your apartment. You managed to reserve the biggest gazebo, where there are three picnic tables covered with dinosaur plates, and tablecloths, streamers in different shades of green. You even bought a big dinosaur cake—also in a radioactive green color that you hadn’t been sure about, but your son talked you into. Robbie thinks it’s awesome.

He’s running around on the playground with a few of his friends from school. Their parents (along with Sam, Eileen, and Lisa) are talking amongst themselves at one of the picnic tables while you try to figure out how to get the Bluetooth speaker to connect with your phone.

“Haha! Got it. If you're so smart, Alexa, why don't you connect on the first try?” You fist-pump the air triumphantly, just as Benny comes to your side. He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek, making you smile.

“How’s it going out there?” you ask, nodding at the kids. Plus Dean, who’s gamely been the one to keep them entertained with different games. Right now, it’s a thrilling game of Cowboys and Outlaws, where Robbie and his friends are the cowboys, and Dean is the outlaw. He’s been hiding under the slide, behind trees and other playground fixtures, while the kids have little squirt guns to pelt him with water every time they find him.

It's pretty damn cute, and you’ve been taking pictures. You smile at the sight of Dean leaping out at Robbie and the kids, catching them off guard.

“You’ll never take me alive, Sheriff!” Dean declares.

“Oh, it’s goin’,” Benny remarks with an amused shake of his head. “Still hard to believe that guy’s about to make it to Lieutenant.”

“Hahaaa, gotcha!!” Dean cackles. He’s grabbed up Robbie and yanked him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Robbie screeches with laughter while his dad runs around the playground, being chased by a bunch of five-year-olds with squirt guns.

Your smile threatens to make your cheeks hurt. You know your life is…unconventional, to say the least, but Dean is a good father to your son. He’s also been working hard at his job. He just took the Lieutenant’s test, and even though Benny already occupies that position at Firehouse 83, a spot at another firehouse might open up for Dean to transfer.

“Part of me doesn’t want to,” Dean admitted to you last week, while he was working on fixing your stubborn, leaky sink. “All the guys there, they’re like family, you know?” “I understand,” you nodded. “You have to do what feels best for you, whether that’s staying where you feel comfortable, or moving up in your career somewhere else. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.” He took in your advice with a slow nod. “Yeah, thanks. Guess I have to time to think about it. Lisa had other ideas.” “Of course,” you said with a smile, but it soon dropped. “Why, what did she say?” “Do what I can to move up,” he sighed. “She’s got a point. That title comes with a pay bump, one I could really use right now.” “I get that. Totally valid,” you said. “But I just think it’s important for you to be happy with it too. Especially with what you do, helping people, saving��people…I’d imagine being in the right mindset for all that is important, right? Who you work with can be just as important as the money stuff.” Dean considered you with a smile. “Yeah, exactly.”

As you think about it now, you have to admit that he’s grown up a lot.

Dean has to lean against a tree to catch his breath. Am I already getting too old for this crap?

Feels kind of young to have a stitch in his side after a few rounds with these kids, but even he has his limits. Lisa comes to bring him a bottle of ice-cold water, which he appreciates. He’s tempted to dump it over his head like he does after successfully neutralizing a fire. It gets literally hot as hell under that helmet and mask and all his gear underneath.

“Need an iron lung?” Lisa teases.

“Toss in a new pair of knees, thanks,” he wheezes. He downs half the water bottle in one go, but he smiles at seeing his son keep running around with his friends. He’s just got that manic kid energy that goes on for days. But Robbie’s also smart; like Dean, he likes taking things apart and putting them back together in new and ingenious ways.

Dean hopes his son likes the new model car set that’s waiting for him on the picnic table full of presents. In fact, he’s still surprised that you didn’t go with the race car theme he suggested for the party, but apparently, Robbie’s more into dinosaurs now. Dean wishes he knew that before he bought the model car set.

He looks over and catches sight of you and Benny wrapped up in each other. He has his arm around your waist while you fiddle with something, but the way you lean over and whisper near his ear elicits a smile on Benny’s face.

Dean’s good mood diminishes.

“Well, don’t they seem cozy,” he mutters.

Lisa arches a manicured brow. “Yeah, pretty sure he’s getting ready to propose.”

That earns Dean’s attention, his head swiveling back to her in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “Who told you that?”

“His sister,” she replies. “Meg’s in my intermediate class, remember?”

Dean nods, sipping at his water, even though he’s a bit absent in the eyes. Lisa watches him shrewdly.

“Why do you seem upset about it?” she asks. “Benny’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dean says. He doesn’t need that reminder, or the guilty twinge. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.

“And she seems happy,” Lisa points out. “Don’t you want the mother of your kid to be with a good man who treats her right?”

He nods, trying to hide his growing annoyance. “‘Course I do. I just…I don’t know. I still don’t see them together, I guess.”

“Well, they’ve been together for like, two years.”

Again, Dean nods his acknowledgement. It’s hard for him to believe that so much time has passed already. He honestly didn’t think you and Benny would be together this long. He’d always felt a little uncomfortable with one of his best friends dating you, but you’d seemed happy about it, so he didn’t discourage it. But he’d never been very supportive, either. At least, not about your relationship.

Lisa sighs and grabs his arm, pulling him aside before he can rejoin the party.

“Listen, we need to talk about something,” she says.

Dean restrains a tired groan. “Can this wait ‘til later?”

“I think we should do this now,” she says. A hallmark Lisa-ism. She’s opinionated and strong-willed, something Dean’s always respected about her. Sometimes though, the timing is damn irritating. He doesn’t want to get into another argument with his girlfriend in public, especially not at his son’s birthday party.

“Speaking of commitment,” she says with a sigh. “I think it’s fair to say that we’ve been on a five-year rollercoaster, you and I. You know why that is?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” Dean says, crossing his arms.

“It’s because you’re spread too thin,” she says. “Between the firehouse, construction jobs on the side…not to mention other things.”

“What? What’re you talking about?”

Lisa’s lips purse, before she pointedly gestures over at you with her eyes. “Well, for example. You’re still going to her place after your next shift to fix her fridge, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, should be pretty simple. I’ve just gotta swing by the hardware store and grab this specialty tool I ordered—”

“Dean,” Lisa deadpans. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

She heaves a deep breath, running her fingers through her long brown hair.

“I get that navigating this situation hasn’t been easy for you,” she says. “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me either, but look.”

Lisa takes his hands in hers, uncrossing his arms. “I want to get married someday. I want kids too. And I want that kind of life with you…I’m just not sure you want it with me.”

Dean expels a heavy sigh. “Lis—”

“Don’t answer me right now,” she says, but she levels him with a serious look. “You need to decide though, Dean. Five years is long enough. You should know by now if you want to be with me.”

After letting go of his hands, she softens the edges of her words with a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then she turns to join the group now gathered around the picnic table where the food is, all the kids cheering for pizza and cake.

After the party, Sam, Eileen, Lisa, and Benny pack up their cars and yours with the leftover food, party supplies, and presents. Dean helps you clean up the trash, all while keeping an eye on Robbie getting out the last of his sugar-high on the playground swing.

You shake your head tiredly, if with a fond smile. “That kid’s gonna be up all night hype on that radioactive cake.”

Dean chuckles. “You want me to take him tonight?”

“It’s okay. I think he’s going to want to play with his toys,” you reply.

“Well, he could just as easily do that at my place,” he reasons.

You consider it, but you shake your head. “Yeah, but we got him the bike. He’s probably gonna want to try it out for a few minutes before we get him cleaned up.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean you and Benny,” Dean says, his tone becoming surly. “And about that. Don’t you think a bike is something you should run by me? That’s typically a ‘dad’ kind of gift.”

You pause what you’re doing at the sound of his tone. Your brows knit together.

“Sorry, but I feel like a bike isn’t exclusively a dad thing,” you say.

“My dad got me my first bike,” Dean replies. “Spent a whole three days teaching me how to ride.”

You take a minute to think about it. You understand where Dean’s coming from, so you nod.

“Okay, I get it. You want to be there to help teach Robbie? I’m sure he’d love that.” 

Dean tosses a wadded-up ball of frosting-covered napkins and stops, letting his hands fall to his sides in frustration. He draws closer and helps you untie the balloons from the picnic table.

“Yeah, I do, but that’s not the point,” he says. “Why can’t I take him home tonight?”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Well, like I said. The bike—”

“That I should’ve gotten for him,” he snaps. “Which, let me guess, Benny picked out. Right?”

You frown at him in earnest now. “Dean, why are you getting so upset about it? It’s just a bike.”

“Well you know what, it’s not! And it’s not just the damn bike either.” He swipes a hand over his face in annoyance, a telltale sign you’ve come to read well on the man. “Look, I’m missing too much shit, all right? Like, like the dinosaur thing! And the fact that I only get him on the weekends.”

You turn toward him, trying to put a cap on your own annoyance. This isn’t the first time you two have had a conversation like this. 

“We’ve gone over this before, Dean. Your schedule at the firehouse is just too unpredictable,” you say. “Robbie needs as much stability as possible between us. But…okay, if you want to take him tonight, that’s fine. We can bring the bike over to your place and show it to him there.”

You’re trying to be as reasonable as possible, and Dean knows that. Still, anger prickles just under his skin, and he can’t help but push his luck.

“You still should’ve asked be before you got the bike in the first place,” he argues.

Your brows raise high. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, it’s not like we bought him a Honda Civic. Honestly, Dean, why are you picking a fight with me right now?” you ask. “Did you and Lisa get into it again or something?”

Dean looks away and crosses his arms, giving you all the confirmation you need.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you nod. “I saw you two over there on the playground, looked pretty heated. But do me a favor. Don’t come at me with that energy, because I’m too damn tired of it!”

When you walk away from him, Dean can’t help but stare after you. He knows he fucked that up, just as he knows that you don’t deserve him snapping at you. He’s just too irritated to admit it.

For the entire week that follows, Dean finds himself distracted. He sticks to his word and helps Benny teach his son how to ride a bike in between their shifts at the firehouse, but Dean comes home each night feeling even more frustrated and drained than before. It’s too much, knowing Benny’s slowly but surely carving out a father-figure role in Robbie’s life.

These thoughts follow Dean to work, even while he climbs up the firetruck ladder in the rain. It’s parallel to a busted utility pole that still sparks with electricity, even in this torrential downpour. His task is to get up to the top and grab a large branch that’s tangled in the lines.

Rung after rung, he climbs. His safety mask protects his eyes from the rain, but he wishes they had some mini windshield wipers to keep his vision clear of the droplets pelting him in the face.

He also can’t help thinking of you. If Lisa’s right, then Benny’s about to become a more permanent fixture in Robbie’s life, and yours. 

Okay fine. It’s not like Dean expected you to be single forever, but did you really have to get with one of his best friends? Does it really have to be Benny, who seems so natural with Robbie, and more patient than Dean, and more of a support to you and Robbie than Dean can ever be?

And then there’s Lisa’s little ultimatum. He understands why she’s frustrated with him. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s stuck around this long. He knows she’s not going to wait too much longer for him to get his act together. For him to decide, as she put it.

It’s not that he’s not sure about her, it’s just that…

Just that what? he wonders.

He manages to grab the wily tree branch and maneuver it out of the power lines. 

He just doesn’t realize that his glove doesn’t have quite enough friction on the metal side panel of the ladder. Not only does his hand slip, but he’s forced to let go of the branch while he loses his balance. The branch falls to the sidewalk, far, far down below.

“Dean!” Benny shouts in alarm.

Luckily, the truck itself breaks Dean's fall.

Holding Robbie’s hand tightly in yours is the only thing keeping you steady as you lead him through the hospital. After the receptionist had checked you both in and gave you the room number, you hastened down the hall and up to the right floor. 2005.

Robbie breaks into tears when he finally gets to see his dad, laid up though he is in his hospital bed. Your throat tightens at the sight of Dean hooked up to all those monitors. He has his arm wrapped up and fitted into a sling. He has a thick piece of gauze taped to the side of his face, covering a wide, angry abrasion, but he seems to be resting easy on his back. The bed is at an incline, with most of the overhead lights turned off.

Robbie rushes to the bed before you can stop him. He hesitantly touches Dean’s non-injured right hand. “Daddy?”

“Robbie, wait,” you say, keeping your voice quiet. You quickly go over to the bedside and grab ahold of Robbie’s shoulders, but Dean takes a deep breath. His eyelids crack open.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, attempting a smile. His voice is rough and weak, but at least he’s awake.

Robbie’s lower lip wobbles as tears fill his eyes again.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says, a little stronger. When he reaches out to his son, the kid hops up onto the bed and buries his face into his father’s chest. Dean holds him as securely as he can, soothing his hand over the boy’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s okay, little man. ‘M okay,” he promises. Robbie nods, but he still continues to cry.

You can’t help but do the same. Tears slip down your cheeks without your consent. Dean beckons you over too, gesturing with his chin and a slight smile. You’re more tentative in the way you sit down at the edge of his bed. You run your fingers through Robbie’s light brown hair to help reassure him. Then, you meet Dean’s gaze and lay a hand on his good shoulder. You don’t know whether you’re steadying him, or yourself.

“How do you feel?” you ask. “The hospital called me. Benny told me what happened.”

The thought reminds you to text your boyfriend. You hadn’t had a chance to tell him you made it here yet. He must be downstairs grabbing a bite to eat, because he’s the one who rode with Dean in the ambulance and has been with him for a while.

“The hospital called you?” Dean notes in slight confusion.

“Eileen told me that Sam is in court right now, so I must’ve been next on the list,” you say. He also must have taken Lisa off his emergency list the last time they broke up for almost a month. He probably forgot to update it again.

You reach out a hand to almost touch the bandage by his temple. Instead, you hesitantly hold the side of his face to see the area better. Dean closes his eyes for a moment. You can see he’s in pain. Your hand lingers on his cheek, but you know, deep down, that it shouldn’t.

Dean doesn’t stop you though. He lets out a deep breath, savoring how nice the gentle touch feels when the rest of his body feels battered to hell.

“Fell off the ladder. Was a stupid rookie move,” he explains, but when he sees that look on your face, he tries to inject a little more joking into a smile. “S’ not so bad.”

“You could’ve broken your head as well as your arm,” you say, more sharply than you mean to.

Robbie whimpers and clings tighter to Dean. You cover your mouth, as if you can trap the words back inside. You don’t want to upset your son more than he already is, so you fall silent. Another tear works its way down your cheek, but you brush it away. Dean shakes his head.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he reassures you too. He manages to smile as he pats Robbie’s back. “Right, buddy?”

The boy’s head perks up. His eyes are still shiny, but he smiles too. He’s not one to speak when he’s upset though, so he just curls up against Dean’s chest and hangs onto him. Dean rests his good arm snugly around him.

You smile and stroke Robbie’s back. Though your hand lowers, resting on Dean’s hand. You take in a deep breath to calm yourself down. Dean’s fingers curl around yours, prompting you to glance up into his eyes. The way he’s watching you is soft, grateful.

Until the door creaks open. Benny steps in with a subtle clearing of his throat. You jolt internally, and you slip your hand away from Dean’s. You offer your boyfriend a wan smile.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey, baby.” He comes over and greets you with a kiss to the side of your head. He smiles at your son gently. “The gang’s all here.”

“Oh! Let me call Sam, and Lisa too. They still don’t know what’s going on,” you say. You get up from the bed to grab your phone out of your purse. Dean nods in agreement and thanks you, while Robbie plays with his dad's long fingers.

“How you holdin’ up, brother?” Benny asks, after you step out of the room. He settles into the chair near the foot of the bed.

“Ah, you know me. I’m like a cat. Always stick the landing,” Dean says, smiling lazily. The morphine is starting to kick in again.

Benny smirks. “Maybe you do got nine lives, the amount of close calls you like gettin’ yourself into.”

Dean’s good humor fades. He considers his son in his arms, and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, no more,” he says. He got a taste of what it would be like to leave his boy behind, and he’s not fucking doing it. He’s not leaving you to raise Robbie by yourself. The mere idea tears a new hole in his heart.

His eyes sting just enough that he has to blink a bit harder, swallowing past a thick well of emotion in his throat. He presses another kiss to the top of Robbie’s head. Then, Dean meets Benny’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it.

Benny nods.

“You got it, brother.”

When Lisa steps off the hospital elevator on the second floor, you happen to be coming out of the bathroom to fix your racoon eyes. You’ve been crying way too much. You attempt to greet Lisa with something reassuring, but she cuts you off. 

“What happened, and why didn’t the hospital call me directly?” she asks.

Her tone is cutting, and it takes you aback.

“Well, Sam and I were listed as his emergency contacts—”

“Why?” she snaps. “You’re not his wife or his girlfriend. I should’ve been listed.”

Jesus Christ. At this point, you can’t help it. You’re too tired and emotionally drained to lasso in your temper with this woman.

“Maybe if you and Dean stayed together longer than five minutes at a time, he’d put you back on the short list,” you sling back. “But the truth is, you’ve never just…been there for Dean. Not without demanding something from him.”

Lisa scoffs incredulously. “Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you. You’re the reason he can’t commit to anything. You think your little world is the only one that matters, and you call Dean for any little thing! What, don’t you have a boyfriend to help fix your goddamn sink?” 

You open your mouth to retort, but you pause as her words seep into your mind. She might actually have a small point about that one. You realize then just how often you’ve been asking Dean for his help, not just with your apartment, but with your car, and other logistical things that usually have to with Robbie. Dean’s just such a good handyman, and you thought he genuinely liked being able to help…even though Benny did mention once or twice that he’d be just as happy to help you.

“Lisa, this is a lot more than a leaky sink. I just wanted to get here with Robbie and make sure Dean was okay,” you try to explain.

“Good. I’m glad his son was the first person Dean got to see when he woke up,” Lisa says. “But I should’ve been the second.”

She brushes past you before you can even think of what to say. You’re in a state of shock, feeling guilty, incensed, and on the verge of tears all at once.

A familiar voice calls your name, and you turn to Benny just as those tears begin to fall. He gathers you up into his arms and holds you there in the middle of the hallway.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that, no matter how high tensions are today. I’ll talk to Dean,” Benny says. You shake your head and bury your face in his chest, clenching your fingers in his red flannel shirt. 

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, despite the sob that shudders through you. You’ve lost the will to fight.

Benny shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It ain’t okay, baby.”

“Please, don’t bother Dean with this. Especially not right now,” you say. You take a moment to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself. “I’m gonna go get Robbie so Dean can rest.”

You can’t shake the feeling that Lisa is right. You do rely on Dean too much. You just don’t want to think about why that is.

Dean makes a full recovery after a few months. He never does hear about what happened in that hallway, but he knows that things need to change. 

He decides to dig out his mom’s engagement ring from a locked box of his parents’ keepsakes, though he’s still waiting on the right time for it. He and Lisa start looking at houses though, for real this time. She hires a realtor and everything. 

He’s making a firm decision, and he thinks it’s the right one. He wants to be there for his son, but he doesn’t want to keep “spreading himself too thin.” He has to figure out how to set some roots, and some boundaries with you while he’s at it. He’ll just have to come to terms with the idea that he won’t get to be there for everything. 

He has to be okay with the fact that you’ll probably marry Benny. You’ll keep making him cookies and cakes, giving him your smile and your time and your body. And Robbie will probably think of Benny as more of a father than his own Weekend Dad. 

Meanwhile, you’ve spent the past few months keeping yourself in check as well. You’ve stopped calling Dean for help whenever something breaks down in your old-ass apartment. You try to keep your conversations less about life and troubles and whatever funny thing your students did that day in class, and more focused on Robbie–strictly about his schedule and his needs.

It’s kind of painful, if you’re honest with yourself. Sam will always be one of your closest friends from college, but in the past five years, Dean has truly become your best friend. Because you’ve told him things. The things that come from sharing a child with someone, like Sunday dinners with your parents, flipping through old yearbooks and childhood pictures—and the details of day-to-day schedules and little stupid things that happen in moments between moments.

Dean also knows the deep cuts. Like being pregnant and scared and breaking down crying on the side of the road. Like sharing the deepest well of your insecurities with someone who knows your body intimately, even if just for one amazing night...a night you’ve never quite been able to put out of your mind.

However, you know that things can’t stay the same. From now on, he just needs to be your son’s father. Nothing more, nothing less. 

So today, on a crisp April 24th, you’re getting ready for a highly anticipated evening with your boyfriend. Robbie is sleeping over your parents’ house, and Benny has been planning something special for your third-year anniversary. 

You slip into your new dress, a deep emerald green, with a pair of black heels you’ve rarely worn since before you got pregnant. Come to think of it, you were wearing these the night of Sam and Eileen’s bachelor-bachelorette party. The night you…well, the night Robbie was conceived. 

You shake your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You even consider changing. 

You’re being silly, you shake your head. They’re just shoes. 

And yet. Thinking of that time so long ago, it reminds you of a recent Sunday dinner at your parents’ house.

Two Months Ago...

Your parents live modestly, but comfortably in rural Kansas. Their ranch-style home boasts a creek in the backyard, where your dad is teaching your son how to catch minnows. Your mom is inside working on an apple pie, knowing it’s both Dean’s and Robbie’s favorite.

You and Dean have kept close to the house under the shade, sitting on a bench made more comfortable by a pair of old polyester cushions with red, faded flowers.

“How much longer do you have to wear that?” you ask Dean. He glances down at his cast-covered left arm.

“Doc says it’s about ready to come off,” he says.

You nod, allowing yourself a certain smile. “How bad are you itching to grab my mom’s garden shears and cut it off right here?”

“Woman, don’t tempt me,” he says, his lips twitching at a grin. “I’ve been eying those overgrown scissors for the past half hour.”

You laugh and take another sip of your glass. Yours holds sweet tea, while Dean’s has some of your dad’s favorite whiskey. You both raise your heads when Robbie yells across the backyard.

“I caught a minnow!”

“Good job, buddy,” Dean grins. “See if you can catch a marlin!”

“A marlin?” Robbie questions.

“Yeah, like that orange guy in Finding Nemo,” Dean calls back.

Your dad gives Dean the same wry look you do, though yours is tinged with more amusement.

“Dean, that’s a clown fish,” you say. “He’s not gonna find that in the creek.”

“Aw, shit,” he tries to quiet his laugh. “Ah well, should keep him occupied for another twenty minutes.”

You bite your lip to stifle your laughter as well. Though something else occurs to you the longer you watch your son play and explore in the creek. Your dad has the patience of a saint as he puts yet another bait worm on the hook for the kid.

“He’s starting to ask questions, you know,” you tell Dean, in a quieter voice. “‘Why aren’t you and Daddy married? Why can’t we all live together?’”

Dean's brows raise. His good humor dims when he looks over at you.

“What do you tell him?” he asks.

You take in a deep breath, considering your words now as carefully as you did with your son.

“That we care about each other a lot, as friends,” you say, meeting Dean’s eyes. “And we love Robbie very much. Nothing’s going to change that, even if you and I aren’t together like a normal mom and dad.”

Saying it like that makes your heart twinge, for more than one reason. The way Dean’s mouth twitches into a rueful smile just makes it worse, but you try your best to ignore it.

“I never thought about having to explain it to him,” he says, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

It’s that anxious tell of his again. You notice every time he does it.

“I have,” you admit. “I just didn’t know for sure what I was going to say until it was coming out of my mouth.”

Dean smirks a little. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

You roll your eyes and sip your drink, crossing your arms as well. Dean considers you then, looking at you in a way that makes you raise a brow in question.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He sits back against the bench and rubs his hands down his jean-clad thighs. “For the record, I did try to ask you out once.”

“What?” you scoff incredulously. “No, you’ve been with Lisa since the beginning.”

“Before Lisa,” Dean says.

He isn’t joking. He isn’t teasing. He’s serious as he stares back at you with those green eyes of his. Your brows furrow as you wrack your brain. Did he drunkenly leave you a voicemail on one of those “off again” episodes between him and Lisa? No. You know you’d remember something like that.

“It was a few weeks after the bachelor party,” Dean says. “I called you up, remember?”

Your eyes widen. Finally, that jogs your memory.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

You have to laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Dean, you did not ask me out,” you say. “You wanted to hook up. There’s a distinct difference.”

Dean frowns at you. “No, I was. I invited you over—”

“For essentially some Netflix and chill,” you retort.

“Hey, I offered to make you dinner,” he argues. “I didn’t say anything about hooking up.”

You pause at that. His earnest denial makes you actually think back to what you remember about that conversation on the phone.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition. “I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

You cover your lips with your fingers as you begin to realize…

“That was you asking me out?” you ask incredulously.

Dean’s brows furrow and he throws his hands up. “What? Who doesn’t like a little movie night?”

“Dean,” you huff another laugh. “You could’ve made it sound more like a date.”

“Well, ‘scuse me. Sorry I couldn’t afford the Ritz at the time,” he grumbles.

You sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

The more you think about it, the more you just shake your head at yourself. Why did you have to overthink it, like you do everything?

“Wow,” you say, softer and more contrite. “I honestly never thought…”

“Yeah,” he says. He shifts his gaze out ahead.

You glance over at him, now more unsure of yourself. He wouldn’t have any regrets, you think. He has Lisa. As much as they go at it, they always inevitably get back together. And now you know they hired a realtor. They’re about to start making solid steps forward.

But Dean surprises you with another question.

“Do you think if…”

He doesn’t finish it, but you think you know what he’s asking. You hesitate, your fingers flexing around your glass that beads with condensation. You set the glass down beside you. 

Just as you open your mouth to reply—

“All right, pie is cooling and dinner is served!” your mom calls out. Her head pokes out of the sliding glass door to the backyard. You offer a smile, trying to hide how you jolted in your seat.

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” you nod.

You turn back to Dean, who also hesitates. His eyes meet yours, but all too soon, he locks the moment away.

Bracing his hands on his knees, he rocks to his feet and goes out to get Robbie and help your dad bring in the fishing gear.

You grab Dean’s whiskey along with your tea on your way back inside the house. You consider the amber liquid disturbed in his glass, and you down the rest yourself. The burn down your throat is a good distraction. If he asks about it, you’ll say you got the glasses confused.

You know you’ll have to leave that conversation unfinished at the foot of the bench.

Now...

Benny comes by your apartment and helps you into the passenger side of his pickup truck, like the gentleman he is. He takes you to a nice restaurant in downtown, much nicer than the usual sports bar or kid-friendly restaurant. You're very much looking forward to eating at a restaurant that doesn't feature chicken fingers or "kiddie" corn dogs.

“This is gonna be really expensive,” you whisper to him, after he hands his keys over to the valet. 

Benny squeezes your hand in his, leaning over to kiss your temple. 

“Don’t you worry about that. We both deserve a night out.” His blue eyes gleam with amusement. However, his gaze gentles, becoming more sincere. “You work hard, carin’ for everybody around you. How about you let me take care of you for once.”

Your eyes begin to water, your throat constricting with emotion. You rub his arm gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.” 

It’s always easy with Benny. Nice and simple and easy. Nice, supportive, and considerate.

Nice and safe.

That thought follows you while you and Benny walk into to the restaurant. He’s reserved great seats in the back corner, overlooking a beautiful courtyard. It’s decorated with hydrangeas and light wood dining tables, all framed with a rod iron archway as the sun begins to set just so. After holding your chair out for you before he sits himself, Benny orders a bottle of champagne to kick things off.

He turns to you with a somewhat nervous look in his eyes, like he's steeling himself. It’s uncharacteristic of Benny, who’s always so calm and charming and sure of himself. It makes a zing of anticipation run down your spine, and…a dash of fear. You don’t know why, and you don’t know how to beat the feeling down as you fidget in your seat.

He subtly clears his throat, then takes your hand. “Sweetheart, I know I’m not all that good at the words you’re supposed to say. But I can say that the past three years with you and Robbie, it’s come to mean the world to me.”

Your smile softens. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, encouraged by your reaction.

“So I think it’s time I made it clear where I stand, and how much I want to be the man in your life,” he says.

Your eyes begin to widen in shock, but not for the reason he thinks.

“Dean,” you gasp.

Benny’s expression slackens. “What?”

You point over his shoulder, and Benny turns to follow your line of vision. Dean and Lisa have just walked into the restaurant. They notice you pointing their way, and they both pause in surprise as well. Lisa is beautiful as usual in a slinky black dress, completely backless (something you feel you could never pull off, unless you had an invisible bra to keep the girls perked up).

Dean is…well, you’ve very rarely seen him in a suit, but charcoal gray works for him. The open collar and white buttoned-down works for him, as do the three top buttons he’s left undone, showing a tantalizing strip of tanned skin. He stares back at you like he forgot you live in the same time zone, let alone the same zip code.

“Uh, hey!” he casts out an awkward wave, before he makes his way over to you and Benny. Lisa is less than enthused.

“We shouldn’t interrupt their night,” you catch her whisper to him, but Dean doesn’t seem to hear her.

“What’s up, party people! Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh?” Dean says, a little too loudly when he thumps Benny on the back. Benny grunts, giving a bit of a forced chuckle.

“Dean,” he greets. “I think I told you about this particular gin joint. Good to see you can actually clean up once in a while.”

“Ah, you know what, this monkey suit ain’t too bad,” Dean says, pulling at his collar.

You smirk in amusement. “Yeah, I remember how much you complained about wearing a simple tie for Robbie’s Christmas pageant.”

He smirks down at you. “Hey, ties still might not be my thing, but nothing wrong with a sharp collar.”

He pops his for emphasis. You don’t know why it makes you laugh, but it does. Maybe it’s just his face and the silly, endearing expression he makes when he pouts his lips in a “blue steel.”

“So, is this just a night out, or you guys celebrating something special?” Dean asks, gesturing at the champagne bottle and your full glasses of bubbly.

Benny gives his friend a certain look. “Yeah, as a matter of fact. Today’s three years.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile back at him, though you’re a bit self-conscious at the way both he and Dean, and even Lisa have their attention on you.

“We should let you guys get back to it then,” Lisa says.

Honestly, it’s a relief. You and Benny nod, wishing them a goodnight.

For some reason, you notice how Dean’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But he goes with Lisa, laying a hand on the small of her back. You force yourself to tear your eyes away from them and refocus on Benny. You take up your champagne glass and raise it in offering.

“All right, where were we?” you ask, if with a nervous trill in your belly.

Benny smiles. He takes up his glass and clinks it with yours.

Lisa nearly sighs. She and Dean are back in line at the front of the restaurant, waiting to be seated. The second time she catches Dean glancing over at the table where you and Benny sit, she shakes her head and digs into her purse for the valet card. She’s done with this.

“I think maybe we should go to a different restaurant,” she says.

That finally earns Dean’s attention, mostly confused. “What, why?”

She just gives him a long look.

He realizes that whatever her reasons are, it’s easier to just give in than to fight her on it. He’s learning when to pick his battles. Or is he just giving up?

Also, if tonight’s “the night” he thinks it is for you and Benny, maybe he doesn’t want to stick around after all. Three years, huh?

“All right, fine. Let’s go,” he agrees.

Dean and Lisa wait for the valet to bring the Impala around. The minute he gets behind the wheel and turns the key into the ignition, she changes her mind.

“Look, let’s just go home,” she says. “I don’t really feel like eating out anymore.”

Dean’s brows raise. “What? Aw, come on. We’re already dressed and everything. You look great, Lis. Just tell me where you wanna eat.”

Lisa remains firm, with a small shake of her head. “Please, Dean, just take me home.”

After a moment of indecision, Dean sighs. He revs the ignition and does as she says.

It’s only a fifteen-minute drive back to their apartment, but in that stifling silence, it seems to drag on for a small eternity. He glances at her a couple of times. Lisa has her arms crossed as she stares out the window, watching the other restaurants and mom-and-pops shops and forest trees and old houses of Lebanon, Kansas go by.

Dean counts it a blessing when they’re finally home. He walks up the few short steps up to their ground-floor apartment and unlocks the door. He flicks on the lights inside, and she breezes past him to toss her purse onto the couch.

Dean takes off his blazer and begins to undo the buttons on his cuffs. He watches her all the while, knowing that a storm is brewing. She shucks off her heels and slowly paces the living room on bare feet, like her whirling thoughts are fueling every step.

“All right, I give. What’s going on?” Dean asks. “What’d I do this time?”

She pauses, with her back turned to him.

Shit, he thinks. He shouldn’t have said it like that.

He prepares for the inevitable blow up, but it never comes. Lisa just heaves a sigh. Slowly she turns, and Dean’s shocked and dismayed to see the tears welling up in her deep brown eyes. He makes quick strides toward her, but she raises a hand to keep him at bay.

“Dean, when you picture yourself happy, truly happy,” she says. “Is it with me? Can you imagine yourself marrying me? Buying the house, having kids, growing old together?”

If Dean was thrown for a loop before, he’s even more stunned by her question. “Lis…”

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads. Her tears begin to brim over, but she blinks, somehow keeping them at bay.

It’s a bit too long before Dean realizes that he can’t give her an answer. At least, not the one he knows she wants to hear.

When he thinks of that picture in his mind, of course he sees his son. But the only other person Dean can imagine there beside him is…

“I…” He wills his mouth to work, but nothing else comes out.

The only face he can conjure is yours. Your eyes are warm and welcoming, your smile as bright and contagious as your laugh.

The only voice he can hear is yours, gentle and strong at the same time.

The only one he can see is you.

He knows the shampoo you use and the perfume you like to wear, how the sweet and floral scents mix together and linger in your hair and on your skin.

Even now he remembers the contours of your body, and how it could fit so well against his. He knows that you used to try and hide your shape under loose, baggy shirts and cargo pants that did nothing for you. He knows how much courage it took you to wear that red dress to his brother’s party, because you told him once, at one of those Sunday dinners at your parents’ house.

Come to think of it, there’s not a whole lot that Dean doesn’t know about you, except maybe what you see when you look at him.

“You love her,” Lisa finishes for him. “I think you always have.”

Dean’s throat tightens. Somehow he swallows anyway, and he shakes his head. 

“Lisa, I loved you.”

“Maybe you did, in your own way,” she says, laughing a little through her tears as she wipes them away. “But you already have a family, Dean. Go fight for it.” 

Dean doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he can do.

He goes to her and kisses her cheek. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says. 

Lisa merely nods, wiping her face dry. She watches Dean Winchester walk out of her apartment, and out of her life for good this time. 

Dean calls your cell, but it goes to voicemail. He drives all the way back to the restaurant and doesn’t find you or Benny there. 

Dean realizes that what he’s doing, what he plans to do, is not fucking cool. He wouldn’t blame you or even Benny for being severely pissed when Dean shows up. He also knows that he can’t let another day pass where he keeps lying to you, and himself. 

He eventually finds you at home. What’s weird is that Benny’s truck isn’t in the driveway—just your car. He knocks on your door, and he waits.

He unconsciously holds his breath while he waits in that terrible existence of limbo. However, his heart thrums back to life when he hears your footsteps drawing closer to the door. Anticipation, excitement, dread, it all roils together inside him like a bad cocktail as the door swings open.

And he’s once again rendered a bit breathless at the sight of you in that dress. The color alone appeals to him, let alone the way it accentuates your every curve, from full breasts to the swell of your hips, the softer slope of your thighs, and bare toes painted. You’re fucking delectable, every curve, and a temptation without you even meaning to be. 

You’re just…you’re still so goddamn beautiful, like the night he first saw you. Even now, he can almost feel the give of your thighs under his hands, his fingers pressed to supple flesh. 

But then he’s drawn to your face, and your wide eyes full of surprise. Your mascara is a bit smudged though. Your eyes are red too, like you’ve been crying. His brows furrow in concern.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” you ask.

“I need to talk to you, but uh…did something happen?” he asks. “You okay?”

You’re reluctant to tell him. Did Benny say something to upset you? Or was it something he did?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say.

Instinctively, Dean knows it’s a lie.

“This isn’t a good time though,” you say, after clearing your throat. “Can we do this tomorrow, maybe?”

Dean leans a hand on the doorframe.

“Please, it’s important,” he says. His eyes implore you harder than his words. Please.

That does it. A sigh passes through your lips, but you let him in. He knows Robbie is with your parents for the night, which actually makes this easier.

Once he steps inside the apartment, Dean does notice that your bedroom door is open. Half the drawers to your dresser are open too, and empty. Certain frames that used to be on your coffee table are no longer there, like the one of you, Benny, and Robbie on a camping trip. 

“You want some coffee, or soda?” you ask. 

Dean declines and grasps your arm before you can busy yourself into “hostess” mode. He leads you to the couch, where you both sit down together.

“What happened tonight?” he asks. “Where’s Benny?”

Your lower lip wobbles, the beginning of your telltale cry face. Dean knows his son gets it from you, and it always breaks his heart. He squeezes your arm gently, trying to ground you.

“Benny proposed to me tonight,” you confess, taking in a sharp breath. “He proposed, and I couldn’t give him an answer.” 

You shake your head as the tears sting hot in your eyes. 

“He got so upset, he just—he left!” You throw your hands up. “But honestly, I don’t blame him.”

Dean tries to comfort you as you try and fail to wipe at your face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, cupping your cheek to brush the tears away himself. 

“Why couldn’t you answer him?” he asks. 

You look up at Dean, and you finally notice the shine of hope in his eyes. Dean touches your cheek more tenderly. 

“Does it mean I have a chance here?” he asks.

Despite what your eyes tell you, you still gape at him in shock. “What? But…what about Lisa?”

“It’s over. For good this time,” Dean shakes his head. “I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…”

And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

You begin to crumble all over again. You pull away from him and his touch, because you can’t believe it. You cover your face with your hands, sniffling as you try to make sense of his words, his touch, and the warm flutter threatening to brim happiness in your heart.

“God, Dean. You can't just..."

"I mean it," he insists.

You're still reluctant to take him seriously...no matter how much you want to. It's a conflicting realization that hurts, and makes you feel stupid for taking so long to figure it out, and makes you hate yourself for hoping his words are true.

"Come the morning, you’re going to change your mind,” you reason, without looking at him. “Like you’ve done with Lisa a thousand times.”

“No,” Dean says firmly. He shifts closer and prompts you to look at him, really look at him.

“Not about this, and you know it,” he says, catching and holding your gaze. “That’s why you couldn’t say yes to Benny. Because you know what we’ve got. It’s the real deal.”

You still look uncertain, even though you can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Dean has always had this way of looking into the very depths of you, like he can actually see every thought as it passes through your mind.  

“I should’ve said yes,” you say. “I can rely on Benny. I know he would stay by my side, and…and I know he won’t hurt me.”

Not like I’ve just hurt him, you think. Guilt still pricks at your heart. The last thing you ever wanted to do was lead him on, and yet, that’s what you’d done, wasn’t it? You thought you had loved him. You’re sure that you did, but maybe it just wasn’t the kind of love that could reach down deep and grab you, set your blood on fire, and make you ache when the burn was gone.

That spark licks across your skin when Dean takes your hands.  

“What if I want to be that guy for you,” he says.

You allow yourself to look at him. Really look at him.

You know Dean. When he gets an idea in his head, it inhabits every bone and shred of muscle in his body. There’s no mistaking his resolve, or the steady grip of his hands over yours.

“If you let me, I’ll stay. I won’t leave you,” he says. In his eyes, there’s a firm promise. “I can be the guy you rely on. The man you can trust. The man who’s gonna love you, come whatever. Because now I know what it means. I know how it feels.”

You bite your lower lip against the smile that wants to surface.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Dean smiles for you. “If you wanna know the truth, I’m pretty sure I’ve been loving you since the day I heard Robbie’s heartbeat for the first time.” 

Your tears flow harder at that. A shaky breath escapes you, though it does nothing to steady you. Dean strokes your cheek gently with his thumb. 

“Please, just give me this one chance,” he asks. Begs, really. 

He doesn’t have to though. You nod, just a little. 

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s try.”

Dean's smile spreads slow, but warm across his face. It’s your favorite kind, the kind that crinkles his eyes. 

He leans in and claims your lips with his own. The passion of it is familiar, but you don't think it’s the same as five years ago. Now, there’s an underlying note of tenderness in his touch and each new way he tastes you deeper. He holds nothing back this time, and neither do you. 

Your fingers tangle in his shirt, and then in his hair as you moan into his mouth. “Dean.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he answers against your lips, though he doesn’t give you much room to keep talking.

You haven’t heard him call you sweetheart in a long time. You feel your heart knitting back together, stitch by stitch. Tears sting in your eyes anew, but you squeeze your eyes shut against them.

“I…”

You can’t even continue the breathless thought. You hold his face desperately between your hands, pressing your forehead to his for a moment as you both catch your breath. But this man is like the sweetest, most seductive vice. Now that you’ve gotten another hit, you can’t resist. You no longer want to.

His arms wrap around you more securely, and he leans in to lure you back into his kiss. His tongue breaches past your lips to curl along yours with tantalizing strokes. His hands slowly move down your back and along your waist.

“Mmm, missed the hell outta this,” he groans into your mouth. Your heart flutters again at the way he holds you, the way his big hands squeeze you and feel you.

You let him guide you down onto the sofa cushions. He slots himself between your bare thighs and runs his hand up familiar smooth skin, bunching the skirt of your dress higher as he goes. He aims to get himself reacquainted with every soft part of you that welcomes him back.

For once, the gates around your hearts swing free. 

Dean never imagined that his own son would hand him the ring he gives to his wife, but today, it just feels like symmetry. He grins and winks at Robbie.

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean says.

His son’s beaming grin is wide and toothy, but the boy takes his job very seriously and delivers the other ring to you. You smile brightly and caress his cheek after you take the shining, white gold band from him. It matches the thinner band that Dean has for you; it'll soon join the engagement ring that once belonged to his mother.

Robbie had liked Benny a lot, but he loves his dad. He’s probably the happiest person in the room to see his parents take each other’s hands in front of the minister. 

Benny is understandably absent in the chapel today. You had met with him after that night of your botched anniversary to apologize to him, and so had Dean. Benny understood. He’d admitted that in the back of his mind, he feared this might happen.

“I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me,” you said to him. “You can even hate me if you want.” Benny gave you a wry, melancholy sort of smile. “Part of me’s still mad at you, I won’t lie…but there’s no use in it. Not even hating you.”

Even though Benny bowed out, carrying his hurt and his grief on those broad shoulders, letting you go meant letting go of a friend too. He put in his paperwork to transfer out of Firehouse 83.

As he’d told Dean himself that day, and in fact, the last words Benny said to him…

“There you go, Lieutenant. A spot’s just opened up.”

Dean didn’t want to get promoted this way. He felt guilty enough as it was, and not just for Benny leaving the firehouse. Benny recommended Dean to the Chief himself though, saying that if they were going to give someone a Lieutenant’s badge, it may as well be the guy who got a perfect score on his test, and had the natural leadership skills to boot.

To the end, Benny was a gentleman.

Now, Sam beckons his nephew over. Robbie quickly goes to his uncle’s side and puffs his little chest out as he stands proud behind his dad. 

Dean is able to take you in, your beautiful white dress, and everything about you that makes him smile…including the way you smile back at him.

Man and wife is all he hears. It’s all he needs to hear, before he’s pulling you closer by your newly anointed hand. He dips you for a thorough kiss in front of all your family and friends. 

You squeal in surprise, making Dean smile hard enough for his cheeks to hurt. Giggling hard enough to make you tremble, you raise a hand to caress his cheek. But you give him another real kiss after he guides you back up to your feet.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. The words are just for him to hear. Dean pulls back enough to see the truth shining in your eyes. Beautiful.

“Can’t help it, right?” he teases. 

You smile in amusement, but you grab his chin and shake it. 

“You got me,” you reply. “I really, really can’t.”

Your beaming smile softens. Even though the entire room is clapping and hooting and hollering in celebration, in that moment, all you really see is Dean. 

Here in his arms, you know that this is where you were meant to end up. From now on, it’s where you’re meant to be.

AN: From Lisa and Benny to Robbie and everything in between. Dean and the reader certainly aren't perfect in this, but what do you think about how their story unfolded? I truly hope you guys enjoy this one, because I've had so much fun with it. 🥰❤️❤️‍🔥

**As a reminder, One More Day (Dean x Latina Plus-Sized!Reader) comes out on 4/04 - the day after my birthday!~

Until then, please let me know what you thought of If I Stay! 😘 I might write more for these two in the future...

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?"

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Tag List (Part 1):

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @kaleldobrev

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdeanwrites @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @0ccvltism

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005 @redhoodieone

[007chan]

boyfriend

sunoo smiles fondly as jungwon dotes on riki.

unsurprisingly, their schools hockey team had won. heeseungs pouting at sunoos side complaining that his ears are still ringing from how loudly sunoo had cheered when riki had shot the winning goal.

sunoo hears heeseung huff when he doesn’t answer. he's too busy staring at riki, who’s completely oblivious to his relentless gaze.

the two friend groups had decided to get a celebratory dinner together, courtesy of jake’s(jay’s) wallet.

unable to help himself, sunoo plops the meat he’d been grilling for himself onto riki’s plate earning a shy smile from the younger. in his peripheral he can see hanni smirking at him. he makes a mental note to bring up the embarrassing interaction she had with her crush earlier that night later.

sunoos plots for revenge on hanni get interrupted as jay abruptly stands up from his seat at the table. he looks at sunoo softly yet theres a tense smile gracing his lips, “sun, a word?”

he confusedly nods at the olders words, sending an unsure glance at jungwon who just shrugs.

sunoo wordlessly follows the older outside the restaurant, the cold february air nipping at his skin. jay seems to take notice of sunoos teeth clattering as he wraps his thick coat around sunoo, “you never dress warmly.” the older says teasingly making sunoo break out into a smile.

the two stand in silence for a few seconds, both of them taking in the view of the sunset in the sky.

“i’m sorry.” jay sighs.

confused, sunoo looks to the older with a pout, “for?”

jays eyes flickers with guilt, “for what i said earlier over text. i think i was just..” he takes a deep breath as he turns to sunoo, “i was jealous.”

sunoo blinks. he just blinks. he blinks as jays face turns a bright crimson and he blinks as an awkward silence stretch’s on between them.

jay raises his hand in protest as sunoo opens his mouth to speak. “let me finish first,” he pleads. sunoo nods, the olders sheepish expression is starting to make him nervous.

sunoo watches as jay rocks bath and fourth on his feet anxiously, feeling bad for the older he places a reassuring hand onto his shoulder. jay smiles softly, “i’m jealous of riki, wait no, i was jealous of riki,” the older looks down at his feet, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“i was jealous of how much he was getting to see you. i thought i was gonna lose you.” sunoo tries not to frown at the shakiness in jays voice, “i went from seeing you almost everyday to almost never, and i was—i was scared i was losing one of my best friends. which now that i say it, it sounds kinda stupid to be jealous over something like that but i just,” jay inhales deeply, his usual soft eyes are now filled with sadness. “i really care about you, about both of you. and i’m really really happy for you both, seriously you two are very cute together, but i miss you—i miss us. i miss hanging out.”

sunoo pulls jay into a bone crushing hug the second he gets his words out, “you’d never lose me as a friend jay. though, i do agree it is a little silly to be jealous over that,” jay laughs loudly at sunoo’s words making relief flood through his veins.

“we should hang out soon, yeah? i can’t blame you for missing me so much, i am pretty great.” sunoo giggles as jay lightly shoves him with a roll of his eyes, “whatever, thanks for listening sun. let’s go back inside before they eat everything.” the two chatter mindlessly with soft smiles gracing both their faces as they walk back to the table.

sunoo ignores the questioning look hanni sends him to yank jungwon by his hoodie, “move it yang.” jungwon stands from his spot next to riki with no reluctance, immediately moving to invade jake’s space as he sits next to him.

“hey ki.” sunoo says softly. he feels his chest tighten painfully when riki just gives him a curt nod, barely acknowledging his presence. annoyed, sunoo pinches riki’s side. he hears riki let out a groan as he squirms in attempt to get away from sunoo’s prying fingers.

sunoo stares intently at the right side of riki's face as the younger chats with heeseung, they’re bonding over some video game sunoo never cared about till now, till he knew riki liked it.

the two talk for what seems like forever until heeseung lets out a yelp of pain making everyone’s conversations halt to a pause. sunoo snickers as heeseung sends him a confused glare, “why’d you kick me?” heeseung asks, his face scrunched up in pain.

sunoo just shrugs, a sweet smile on his face as he sends another kick to heeseungs shin. in the midst of the chaos of sunghoon trying to preform cpr on heeseung as if he’s dying and chanyoungs loud belts of laughter that’ll surely get them kicked out, sunoo manages to drag riki away from the table.

the cold air again nips at sunoo’s skin as he drags riki’s outside.

sunoo feels as if his entire body had been dunked in ice water when he feels riki try and pull his hand out of his grip, jays once warm jacket doing little to nothing to keep the ice that flows through his veins away. sunoo abruptly stops walking causing riki’s larger frame to crash into his own. he turns around and watches as the younger quickly jumps away from him, muttering out a soft "sorry." under his breath.

sunoos upset. he truly thought he could never be upset at the younger boy, even when riki ignored him he wasn’t upset at him. but now, watching as riki puts distance between the two of them when he’d usually shove his way into sunoos space, sunoo can’t help but feel distraught.

“what’s going on ki? why won’t you talk to me?” sunoo asks, shoving lightly at riki’s shoulder when the younger won’t move his eyes away from the ground, first he refuses to talk to him now he’s even refusing to look at him. sadness fills sunoo’s heart when riki tenses at his touch. sunoo opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong when riki’s dark eyes finally look into his concerned ones.

sunoos heart soars when he sees the blush on riki’s cheeks. “what’s going on ki?”

riki purses his lips in thought before reaching forward to wordlessly wrap his lanky arms around sunoo. sunoo smiles as the younger buries his face into his neck, “congrats.” riki says.

confused sunoo pushes riki away. sunoo stares at riki’s face quizzically, trying to wrack his brain for what riki could possibly be congratulating him for. “wh—? i’m—,” he starts, sunoo feels as if his words are getting stuck in his throat.

“congrats for what?” he lands on eventually. the confusion sunoo feels only grows as riki makes a gesture with his hand towards the restaurant’s entrance. “congrats on y’know…you and jay?”

“me and jay?” sunoo is so fucking lost right now.

“yeah, you two look good together. very cute.” riki smiles at him but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

a painstakingly awkward silence falls over them as sunoo stares at riki. his hands fiddle with the bottom of jays jacket when the realization of riki’s words hit him like a slap in the face. there’s no fucking way.

“riki,” sunoo reaches out slowly, taking riki’s hand into his again. “i like you.”

-

sunoo represses a giggle as riki’s jaw drops open. this time, sunoo can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in his throat as riki’s fingers flex in his hand, a subtle pink blush rising up onto his neck.

“you? me? what?” riki says breathlessly, as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. sunoo feels slightly bad as he finds the distress on the youngers face painfully cute.

sunoo is smiling so large that his cheeks hurt, “i like you, riki. i really really like you.”

his amusement is quickly washed away as riki’s eyes well up with tears. “you like me.” riki says quietly as he chokes out a sob.

to say sunoo is baffled is an understatement. in all his 21 years of living, he’s never had someone cry because he confessed to them. “i— yes? i do.” sunoo says, concern laced in his voice.

riki lets out a loud squeak, and sunoo is suddenly pulled into another hug. “oh my god.” he hears riki say as the youngers arms tighten around him, “holy shit, holy fucking shit. i never thought this day would come, it’s so much better than in my dreams.”

sunoo belts out a laugh at riki's words, “yeah? you dreamin’ of me?” he says, unable to stop himself from teasing him. not even phased by the teasing, riki nods his head and grips sunoo even tighter, his long fingers digging into sunoo’s(jay’s) jacket, as if he’s making sure sunoo’s really there.

“i like you too. i like you so much it’s insane.” riki says softly.

sunoo laughs, “yeah i kinda gathered that much.” riki releases a wet laugh at that, his hands moving from sunoo’s back to his side to pinch him.

slowly, sunoo wiggles out of the youngers bone crushing grip to look at his face. sunoo’s heart beating hard in his chest as he takes in the youngers appearance. riki’s eyelashes are thick with crystal tears and his pretty pink lips are pursed into a cute pout.

he looks so pretty and so sunoo’s.

he giggles softly, reaching up to wipe the youngers tears, “cmon, i wanna go eat a celebratory dinner with my super cute boyfriend now.” riki’s eyes bulge out of his head as sunoo places a gentle kiss to his cheek. sunoo refrains from laughing at the youngers dazed expression and take the opportunity to press another kiss onto his nose, “seriously come on, i’m fucking starving.”

warmth fills sunoo as he walks into the restaurant with riki trailing behind. he gives riki’s larger hand a squeeze as he leads them to their table, his heart stuttering in his chest as he hears riki's not so quiet whispers behind him, "im his boyfriend, we’re boyfriends. what the fuck?”

sunoo once again ignore the questioning look he gets from hanni as he sits down in his seat, riki lagging behind him.

seemingly snapped out of his daze, riki starts eating again. sunoo watches fondly as the younger keeps refilling both of their plates with meat.

sunoos heart beats loudly in his ears as riki leans into his side, laughing at something sunghoon had said. jungwon raises an eyebrow at sunoo when the two make eye contact, earning a shrug and a wink from him. jungwons dimple makes an appearance as he cutely smiles at sunoo, raising his hands to make a heart.

his hand stays in riki’s— in his boyfriend’s for the entire duration of the dinner. and if anyone notices how sunoo had draped a possessive arm around riki’s waist, and the continuous times riki leaned into sunoo’s embrace during dinner, no one commented on it. just like how no one commented on how jake went home with jungwon because he forgot something in the youngers apartment. (everyone knew that was a lie, just like how they knew it was a lie when riki said he and sunoo totally didn’t make out in the bathroom even though their swollen lips gave them away immediately.)

SUMMARY: riki has seen many things as sunoo's neighbor. he's seen him late for school rushing out the door, he's seen him help his mother bring in groceries, and he's even seen him get dropped off by friends. what riki hasnt seen is sunoo asking him to be his fake boyfriend.

HEYYY 👅👅 thank you guys so much for reading boy next door!! seriously it means a lot :(, i genuinely never thought that this smau would get traction outside of my twt circle LMAOO 😭 but im so so fucking happy that it did! cuz i’m emotionally attached to this smau i definitely will be posting some extras because im not ready to let go of these sillies yet 💔💔💔 so look forward to that!!! hehehe love u guys 😊💗💞👅

↩︎ back | next ↪︎

boy next door masterlist

tags: @heejamas @miniw0nz @sunghoonzzzz @enhasnoo @rairaiblog @lov3lyaaru @orangemintsq @sunkismau @cheesepuffcat @paradiseoflosers @wongghhh @cl4ir0l0v3r @nene-starz @ddolleri @reikaxslvr @steddie-steddie @ddeonutt @sunooluuvr

taglist is closed!

[honeybunnyale]

A Favor l J.M.

w.c: 2.1k

t.w.: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Dark Fic, Smut, description of drug addiction, withdrawals and emotional manipulation. (Lowkey the darkest thing I've ever written, will probs never do again)

a/n: Please read warnings for all of my works before reading. 18+ only!

Summary: Joel is asking for one more favor.

"Don't."

Tess turns at his sharp tone and eyes him. Joel glances keeping his eyes focused forward. She looks up with a sigh-like groan, her pupils pointed to the sky, tongue pressing against the side of her cheek in mock annoyance.

"Why not?"

He stares off into the distance with his shoulders tense and his arms crossed in contemplation. The QZ was always just an option to him and Tess. They could come and go as they pleased, they could leave if they wanted, together, maybe even make things work between them once and for all.

"She likes you, always has," Tess mentions referring to the addict that keeps coming back to him.

They had met years ago, she was barely twenty-two, already asking for some drugs, any drugs that could take away the images in her head, the thoughts that kept her up at night and made her afraid of herself.

She quickly became addicted to Joel as much as the stuff that he gave her. He likes that she keeps coming back to him like a dependency. He would never admit that to anyone though.

"You like her too, so what's the big deal?"

He sniffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

"She's young, she doesn't know what she likes, what she wants-"

"She's thirty-three, Joel. She wants you."

He finally turns to her and gives her a look. She sighs. Convincing Joel of anything seemed to be completely useless at this point. With age, his stubbornness only increased. Most of the time she had found the appeal to it, the fun and lust for the thick headedness of his actions.

But she's tired and frankly, with her own age, the original spark had gone dull.

"You'd rather she be with some other fuck in the QZ?"

She knew where to hit him, where his anger would rise the most. Joel was always jealous, ever since they met. When Tess had been able to get in contact with someone over the radio named Frank, it felt like she had shot acid into his veins.

Good thing Frank wasn't interested in her, not in the way he originally thought.

He scowls.

"Oh c'mon Joel, you've fucked her before, haven't you? It’ll be fun, I'm sure she'll want to do it again."

He stays quiet, she pushes on his shoulder lightly, starting to chuckle.

"Just open your palm and she'll come running like a little‐"

"Don't‐," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, turning back and stepping down from the small hill that overlooks the fallen jagged cityline.

"She doesn't deserve to be spoken about like that," he mumbles, as if he had more morality than her.

Tess hums, wanting nothing more than to have finished her sentence, aching to remind him of how much you were already wrapped around his finger. In some sense you really were, judging by your raspy moans and heady breaths a month ago, the last time Joel had seen you and coincidentally the night he had told you to stop seeking him out.

"Such a Gentlemen. See? You won't have to try so hard."

He gives her another look.

"We need this, then we might be able to get out of this place. For Tommy."

...

Withdrawals were a pain in the ass. Some moments you shake, having to hide your hand behind your back, biting your lip so hard it makes you bleed, just so that officers wouldn't shoot you at the slightest twitch of a hand.

Other times you feel fine, your mind numb, cloudy but not enough to incapacitate you from your work. The worst is when you're home, when you can't distract yourself with the flames and foul smell of rotting or burning flesh.

Being stationed in charge of the disposal of all of the infected bodies came with needs, and those needs could only be fulfilled by Joel Miller. The man who had left you to fend for yourself and deal with your sudden loss of supply.

You hated Joel, hated the way he made you believe he had actually cared about you. It's been a month, no pills, no nothing, only you and your thoughts.

Now you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your body covered in sweat and itching with discomfort. There's a knock at your door, the same one he had told you would signify his arrival.

Now you were hallucinating, thinking of the damn bastard that had left you feeling sick and deprived. Your mind was numb, your body needing something, something to make your skin sing, your veins to sting with pleasure even if for just a moment.

You think of his hands and the door knocks again. Your own fingertips travel down to your breast, pinching your budding nipple through the fabric of your sweater. You hear your name, out from his own lips and calling for you in his voice.

A shiver rolls down your spine. Your hands slip down your stomach and towards your folds, spreading your legs, imagining his head between them, kissing up your thigh, commenting on how the taste of your pussy was enough compensation for the ache of his knees and back.

The dip of your fingers wasn't enough, your brows furrow, they weren't as thick as you wanted, the way it should be.

"Open. It's me."

The door shakes with another bout of banging. You almost fall to the floor. Your heart races. For a few moments, he hears you shuffle around, cursing under your breath and ultimately breathing in deeply.

You open the door, and his eyes soften, just a little. Enough for you to see the slight guilt and especially enough for you to feel the pity he had for you. You were taken aback from it. 

"What do you want?" you mutter.

His eyes rake over your form, you wore nothing but a tattered sweater, the one he had given you and that he found while scavenging outside the QZ.

Your voice was weak, you pulled your sleeves over your fingers, bitten raw and meaty. In your mind, you had yelled at him, screamed and pushed him by the chest to show your frustration and betrayal.

Your hands start to shake as he makes his way inside, his eyes giving you a once over at the blank look you had. He sits at the edge of your bed. His face was stoic, still stern. He looked as though he didn't bring himself to your apartment, as if you were making him sit his ass down to tend to his wounds like all of the other times.

"C'mere."

You don't move, your skin starts to itch, anxiety builds in your stomach. His mouth barely opened and he grits his teeth as he repeats his command.

Seeing you like this made him angry. Your eyes were sunken in, your body looking sickly and frail. You weren't taking care of yourself, and it was all his fault.

You move forward and his hands wound around your waist to help you straddle his hips. Your hands instinctively move towards the breast pockets of his flannel, he slaps them away.

"I need something." he says calmly, almost apologetically. 

You ignore him, now clawing at his jean pocket, looking for a little reused baggy of baby blue or white pills. He takes your wrists and holds them so tight you flinch.

"Listen to me."

He was like a snake, moving his head languidly in front of your face until you had finally given him eye contact. For a few moments you scowled, your eyes were clear in their anger.

He felt you. The real you. Then you looked down submissively, attempting to keep still against him, despite the way your body shook in tremors.

God, he ruined you. He shifts his thigh, pushing you slightly back so that you aren't as flush against his chest. Your legs split between his as he adjusts on your bed.

Your breath hitches when your cunt spreads against the rough denim of his jeans. He watches as you lick your lips, he feels the way you dampen the fabric underneath you.

He stares at your lips, remembering the time he made you swallow down a pill with his cum still held in your tongue. His eyes soften and his palm meets the sweaty, hot skin of your cheek.

His thumb pushes in, he can't help it. You suck automatically, expecting there to be sweet chalky dust littered on his fingertips.

"Need you to do me a favor..."

Your eyes tear up and you suck harder, your hips starting to twitch back and forth.

"Have some friends working for Robert, yeah?"

You don't respond, he already knows. You feel a pit of frustration build in your lower stomach; you pull yourself away, but he keeps your hips in place.

His thigh bounces up against you and his finger pops out of your mouth to grip your chin. He looks down at you softly, his eyes trailing down to your lips before leaning down to devour them.

His hand cups the back of your neck and his thumb tilts your head up. His lips move against yours hungrily, his tongue traveling further as you moan as his other wandering hand massaging into the side of your breast.

He breaks the kiss slightly, thick spit trailing over your lips as he kneads your body and flexes his thigh. His eyes search over your face as you start to roll your hips and your eyes flutter closed.

"C'mon baby... I'll give you what you want if you just tell me."

You swallow thickly and lick your lips. His hand lowers between your legs, a knuckle brushing against your cunt and circling over your clit, glossy with your slick and pulsing in time with each grind of your hips on his thigh.

His lips trail down your neck as you nod slightly.

"Y-yeah..." you trail off, only speaking with an exhale.

Your hands reach the back of his head as he bites down on your shoulder, humming as you finally answer his question. He looks up at you from there, tilting his head up to nuzzle his nose under your chin.

He helps you shift closer to him, your eyes closing tightly and your lips pursing as you contain your moans of relief and pleasure at his touch and the sudden closeness of another body against yours.

"Heard they found a battery..."

You nod and lean down to kiss him again, a whine escaping your lips as he tilts his head to the side and you inevitably miss.

"Joel-"

"Know where it is, honey?"

The slightest flinch of your brow, the question developing in your head and showing through your eyes made him hesitate. He kisses you again and you're distracted.

Minutes later he has your pussy squelching, your neck and jaw covered in love bites and your hips bruised with his grip. Your back meets his chest as your hips work over his thigh.

His fingers were furiously swirling over your clit, his other hand holding your neck steady as he mouthed over your neck.

Your body shakes and he feels the way your cunt pulses in orgasm. A garbled moan escapes past your lips and you feel the way his chest rumbles in a chuckle.

Joel's mouth doesn't stop, his lips start to suck harshly against your skin, making it bruise tender, your skin resulting in raised bumps.

You realize, as he tightens his hands on you and trembles, that he missed the feeling too.

"Fireflies," you mumble against his chest. Your body was laid on the covers, his laying on his side beside you. His hands caress over your neck, he nods and sighs in what you think is relief.

A couple of minutes later he sits up, your eyes close and you feel the cold brush through your body again. The tremors came back and the twitch of your fingers towards him were weak.

He leaves something on the bedside table, you hear the shuffling of his jeans and a wet cloth against your swollen cunt. It almost feels as if you were on the precipice of sleep.

You feel lips on your forehead, the wetness of them leaves an uncomfortable feeling on your skin. The door opens and closes softly.

As you lay on the mattress, finding that he hadn't even left his scent behind on your pillowcases, you realize something else. You stare at the baggy full of pills, a little more packed than the usual he would give you.

He's gone and he used you one last time.

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

Thank you for reading! Sending love!

-Alejandra 💋

[bluebutterflytattooed]

Loser Lesbian Ellie x Mean Girl Reader

CHAPTER FIVE

HEY warnings for this chapter:

tw: mentions of drug abuse, masturbation (ellie)

It’s been almost a week since you were at Ellie’s house. You haven’t gone back yet, the work on the film has mostly been done just at school. You guys have civil conversations littered with laughing and smiling, and you’ve made barely any snide remarks about her at all since that afternoon at her house. 

Ellie is a big fan of these brand new, friendly interactions. So much so that she fears her middle school crush on you is coming back. She can’t stop thinking about you. Oh, I have this class with Y/N. I wonder what Y/N’s eating for lunch? Wow, I can’t believe Y/N was in my room. That thought in particular is her favorite one. It was floating around in her head constantly when she was at home. That you had been laying on the carpet in this very room, drinking a milk shake and listening to her talk about an apocalypse caused by a mushroom fungus. Occasionally, she’ll catch a little bit of your sweet cherry scent, even if it’s not really there, and it sends her spiraling. 

Yes. The middle school crush she had on you is returning, is what she ultimately decides. She knows that Dina will scream ‘I told you so!’ as soon as she updates her, and that Riley will scoff and advise her against it. ‘She’s cruel’ she will tell her. 

And of course, because Ellie has been so incredibly down bad for you before, she will ignore Riley. The crush got so bad in middle school that Ellie would draw comics of you. The two of you as Spider-Man (her) and the girl (you) that she had to save. Or maybe you both were detectives, or you were a princess and she was a guard. In Sixth Grade, she drew you both as dinosaurs. This is information she will NEVER reveal to anybody. Not a soul. 

This time, the crush is so bad that you’re on Ellie’s mind as she takes a shower after a day full of hard farm work. She had lugged around bales of hay all day, herding her dad’s flock of sheep while riding on her horse. It had left her bones sore and her muscles burning. 

If Y/N was here, she could give me a massage, she thinks and giggles to herself. 

But now that she’s in the shower, her thoughts have wandered away from her aching body and turned towards you. 

They’re not normal thoughts, they’re the kind that flush her face and make the space between her legs ache as much as her bones do. She tries to think of something else but… it just won’t work. 

And that’s how she ends up leaning against the tiled shower wall, whining and gasping pitifully into her hand as she uses her other hand to fuck herself messily, quickly, almost desperately. 

No, not almost. She is completely and totally desperate.

Why won’t you and your sharp words, your perfect smile, your stunning features, you, leave her head? 

Not that she’s complaining too much. It’s kind of thrilling to have images of you and soundtracks of your voice floating around in her mind. Those soundtracks play on a loop as she pounds two of her fingers into her dripping cunt, hot water from the showerhead soaking her flushed skin. A cacophony of whimpers and little pleading words fall from her parted lips.

“Ah~ nghh, Y/N, please,” It’s as if Ellie’s begging for you, and you’re not even there, no matter how much she wishes you were. You’ve bullied her for years; why would she be this needy for you?

Part of her knows that it’s because you’re the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen in her life, and the other part of her knows that it’s because the teasing has made her even more obsessed with you. Why? That’s a question for a time when she’s not about to come.

She starts imagining that you’re there with her, your manicured hands trailing over her skin, your lips pressed against her toned stomach that she wishes you know about, water dripping down your body as she stares down at you, sharp, teasing words coming from your mouth. She makes choked little moaning sounds as flashes of you, your face, your tits, your legs, fly through her head like a horney slideshow, the heat in her core twisting a building up until it’s unbearable-

And then she comes to the thought of her gorgeous high school bully, whining loudly and shaking as she soaks her already-wet fingers, her arousal dripping down her wrist. 

And she has no shame about it.

After recovering from her orgasm, Ellie sighs heavily, washing the shampoo out of her hair which is what she intended to do before she got a little distracted. Her shower routine is not complex. It consists of soap and shampoo. She’s imagined what yours is like before, all the steps you probably go through in order to smell amazing every day. The sweetness that follows you around haunts her mind. She wants to bottle whatever that smell is. 

She turns off the shower, stepping out and toweling her skin dry before putting her pajamas on. She just knows that if you saw the pajamas, you would laugh so hard that you’d cry. She has on her favorite dinosaur themed boxers and an old t-shirt that she got when she went on a school trip with the Marching Band. Basically, if you saw her in it, you’d be absolutely brutal with teasing her. 

Little does she know, you actually have begun to find her interesting and find some of her nerdy hobbies and interests endearing. 

She’d probably melt if she knew that. 

She ends up spending the rest of the night watching a truly terrible horror movie with her adoptive dad, Joel, a gruff man on the outside, but a teddy bear on the inside. Despite the movie and the laughter filling the living room, Ellie always found her mind wondering what you were up to. 

————————————————————————

You were not having as good of a night as Ellie was, to put it simply. Your mom had showed back up at the house, which is never fun for you. She’d been on a bender for about a week, having visited her dealer and buying all the shit she could come up with. Now that she’s gotten over the high, she’s at a low. You practically have to baby sit her. In instances like these, you barely go to school since you have to spend all day making sure your mom stays alive, tending to her every need even if it’s just her being demanding.

You almost text Ellie to tell her and the rest of your film group that you’ll miss some work days, but they don’t care about you like that. They’ll be fine without me, you tell yourself as you stir some honey into chamomile tea for your mom. The house is still quiet.  That’s a pro of your mother no longer being coked up, she’s too tired to say or do anything. 

As you take the tea to your mom, your thoughts fade to Ellie, wanting to know what she’s up to right now (fucking herself in the shower, that’s what she’s doing). Probably playing some conflict game in her mess of a room. You set the tea on the TV dinner table next to your mom, who lies on the couch. 

“Here, ma, this is for you.” You tell her softly. She looks up at you with bloodshot eyes and smiles, showcasing her dirty teeth. You grimace a bit, out of sympathy for her and also frustration that you’re acting like the parent here. You’re only eighteen. 

“Thanks sweet girl. You got a boyfriend yet?” She always asks this. You don't have the heart or confidence to tell her No, I’ll never have a boyfriend. I’m not into boys like that. You’re scared those words will never leave your mouth. 

Part of your jealousy towards Ellie is that she’s genuine. She knows who she is, and she doesn’t hide it. She’s been out as gay since eighth grade, which is when you started tormenting her. Because you knew that she’s proud in a way you never will be. It makes you feel sick to your stomach. 

Just like you guessed would happen, you miss school for almost a full week. You don’t text the film group to let them know that you won’t be in class. All you do is make meals for your mother, write little poems in your room, hang out with Cherry, and do Youtube pilates workouts. It’s oddly exhausting, being home so much. A few of your friends reach out to see if you’re busy, to which you say ‘can’t, some family stuff came up’. They don’t respond after that. 

On the sixth day of your confinement, a Saturday, you’re watching a Nikola’s Pilates video, dressed in pink foldover leggings and a black t-shirt, when your phone buzzes at your side. With a groan, you relax from the stretch you were in and check to see which friend texted this time with a party invitation. But when you see the screen, your heart stops. Or it starts beating faster; it’s hard to tell. Something is going on with your heart either way. Lit up on the phone screen is a text from Ellie, who’s listed in your phone as ‘Ellie 🥸’. Your heart beats even faster, or maybe even slower, as you read the text. 

Ellie 🥸: hey y/n

Ellie 🥸: do you maybe want to come over?

——————————————————————————

hi my loves! UGHHH i’m loving all the support, you guys are so sweet. what did we think of the slightly spicy chapter? i hope it wasn’t weirdly written or anything haha😭.

sorry this is coming out late at night, i had a huge math assignment and had to photograph stuff for yearbook.

-lots of love, blue 🦋

tag list: @vahnilla @elliesngirl @naniiiii12 @liztreez @eriiwaiii2 @elliesgffrfr @nymanas @yashirawr

[reccyls]

Victor's Main Route: Chapter 8

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

The next day, I found myself in a carriage with Victor. Victor told me that I was ordered by Her Majesty to perform an inspection of London.

Victor: My dearest Fairytale Keeper, you have a mission today! Victor: You are to inspect the city of London together with Her Majesty’s aide!

He had all but forced me into the carriage, and…

(...This is awkward…)

I declared to Victor’s face that I was going to find out more about him yesterday. But even after all that, I hadn’t found out a single thing.

(But maybe I’ll be able to learn something during this inspection.)

I snuck a glance at Victor, who was looking out the window.

Victor: I heard that you asked the rest of Crown what their impressions of me were. Did you discover anything?

Kate: Um. I…

(News travels fast…)

When I hesitated to answer, Victor shook his head.

Victor: Ah, don’t misunderstand. I’m not upset, so you don’t have to be nervous. Victor: But I don’t think that there’s anything you’d learn from them that you don’t already know. I was just curious if that was the case or not.

Kate: Well, I was going to ask William the same thing when he gets back.

Victor: I suppose he would know more than the others. However…

Kate: You don’t think he’d tell me?

Victor: I think he’d be quite entertained to keep watching.

I could see it. William seemed like he would find my desperate efforts to find out something new about Victor amusing. My shoulders slumped.

(Then I really have to do this on my own.)

Victor turned to look at me.

Victor: Don’t you think that there’s someone else you could ask?

Kate: Huh?

With his hand on his chest, the lilt of voice was almost boastful.

Victor: He so happens to be right here!

The smile on his face was blinding.

Kate: But… huh?

Victor: There are some things in this world that you’re happier not knowing.

That was what he told me when he pulled away yesterday. He continued to speak, clarifying what he meant.

Victor: I won’t tell you everything. Victor: There are many things best left unknown, after all. Victor: But I never said that I’d never tell you anything.

When I made my declaration yesterday, his exact words were that I could do as I pleased. Thinking back on his words, he never confirmed or denied that it would be okay to ask him directly.

(He’s tricky…)

The smile on his lips was one of neat satisfaction.

Victor: If there’s anything that I can answer, I will!

…

Kate: What are your hobbies?

Victor: Looking after everyone in Crown. They’re so very cute, after all.

Kate: Favorite food?

Victor: Scones topped with lots and lots of butter! Such a guilty pleasure, don’t you think?

Kate: And do you have any foods you don’t like?

Victor: None in particular, I’ll eat anything.

After getting off the carriage, I started asking him every question that came to mind. I was frantically scribbling down every answer he gave in my notebook. It must have made for a strange sight.

Kate: Next question, what’s your favorite… animal?

Victor: Cats and dogs are both adorable! But neither of them seem very fond of me, alas…

(This is turning out more like a trivia sheet.)

He avoided all my important questions by giving vague non-answers. So the only things in my notebook were little facts like these.

Victor: Anything else? I’m ready to answer.

(Yeah, but only the small questions, though…)

I bit my lip as my thoughts alternated between defeat and exasperation. He was almost definitely toying with me.

(But I guess there’s also a part of me that doesn’t really want to press him either.)

I really did want to know his secrets, and I wanted him to tell me. But there must have been a reason that he didn’t. If he was really unwilling, I didn’t want to force it out of him.

(But it’s just so frustrating…)

The streets of London were clean and tidy today, the people were smiling, and all was peaceful in the world. But just a step away, an entirely different world lurked. That world was the nation’s darkness, and Crown’s raison d’etre was to eliminate it.

(Victor said that he’d periodically do these inspections of the city. I guess he meant both sides.)

He would inspect both the bright city and its seedy underbelly, and report any problems he discovered to Her Majesty. And little by little, the country would become a better place. Victor’s expression as he looked over the streets of the city was gentle. I didn’t want to disturb him, so I turned back to my notebook. However, he suddenly came to a stop.

Kate: What’s the matter?

In front of us was an old man performing a puppet show, surrounded by a small crowd of children.

Victor: Since we’re here, why not watch as well?

I nodded, and we began watching the show from a little distance away. The man set up the box that would be his stage, picked up a few puppets, and the show began.

Puppeteer: A long time ago, there was once a queen. Puppeteer: The queen always stayed inside her castle, and almost never came out. Puppeteer: And one day, a little bird flew towards the queen.

(I don’t recognize this story. Did he write it himself?)

I snuck a glance towards Victor, who was also doing the same to me. It looked like we both had the same thought.

Puppeteer: The queen quickly grew fond of the little robin which filled her days with happiness. Puppeteer: But one day, the bird stopped visiting the queen. Puppeteer: She was worried, so she ordered all her subjects to look for the bird. But no one was able to find it.

The queen’s puppet looked down sadly. I was swept up in the story before I knew it.

Puppeteer: At last, the queen left the castle herself to look for the robin. She found the bird, and wanted to bring it back with her to the castle. Puppeteer: But then, the robin would not be able to fly here and there as it pleased. Puppeteer: Feeling sorry for it, the queen decided to let it go. But she asked it to promise that someday, if the bird wanted to, it would come to visit her again. Puppeteer: And so the bird began to fly freely around the world. Puppeteer: The end.

Kate: …Huh?

(That’s it?)

I wanted to know what would happen next. Apparently feeling the same way, the children began asking the old man what happened after that. But he shook his head.

Puppeteer: It’s up to your imagination whether the robin returned to the queen, or if it continued to fly away. Puppeteer: I think both those endings are a little bit right and a little bit wrong, too.

Children: Awwwww!

Victor: Yes, that’s right.

Victor whispered under his breath.

Kate: What was that?

Victor looked away from the puppet show, and began speaking as if he were telling a story from a long time ago.

Victor: A long time ago, I performed my first magic trick. I pulled a dove out of thin air, to bring a smile to the face of a child who lived in the slums. Victor: It was the first magic trick that the queen taught me.

Kate: Her Majesty did?

Victor: A country is composed of its people, and it is nothing without its people, is that not true? Victor: She told me that I needed to learn how hard it was to make one of our citizens smile.

His expression was soft and wistful. I silently kept listening.

Victor: The dove shocked the child, but it didn’t make him smile. Victor: After several attempts, something finally worked. He was overwhelmed with joy, and began to laugh. Victor: I still remember what he said to me back then.

Victor’s eyes curved in a smile and he looked down to a dove that landed at his feet.

Victor: He said, “I wish I could fly as freely as that dove.” Victor: A life where you can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, without being bound by anyone. That is freedom. Victor: Back then, I couldn’t even grant one small child’s wish. I felt pathetic. Victor: If this country were a better place, would there be one less child who could only dream of freedom? Victor: That was when I resolved to always do my duty. Even if the bird were never to return, Victor: There was no greater joy than knowing the bird is free. I hope that England can one day be a country where everyone thinks the same way.

How long would it take for his dreams to be realized?

(It might be longer than I can imagine.)

Both Victor and Her Majesty knew that it wasn’t the kind of dream that would come true so easily.

(But it is wonderful.)

If this country could become one where every person had the freedom to live happy lives, without fear of evil, England would only become better and better. Maybe one day, it would be called the most peaceful and happiest country in the world.

Victor: But it would be sad if the bird never returned, wouldn’t it?

Victor’s smile was somewhat troubled.

If the queen also travels, she’ll see the robin again. (+2/+4)

Maybe the robin wouldn’t fly away at all.

The robin will come back to her.

Kate: I think if the queen travels, she’ll see the robin again. Kate: They’ll meet again, somewhere in the world.

Victor: …That would also be a lovely story. Victor: But I think there’s something else to this tale.

The dove at Victor’s feet spread its wings and took off into the clear blue sky.

Victor: The queen most definitely loved that bird.

The white-winged dove was a symbol of peace.

Victor: And more than just she pitied it, it’s because she loved that bird that she let it go. Victor: I think the queen in that story knew that to be free was to be happy.

Victor’s words carried weight, and I couldn’t help myself from asking.

Kate: What if it wasn’t love, but just affection? Would the story be different?

Victor: Hmm… Maybe she’d have locked up the bird in her castle, if that was the case. Victor: People each show their affection in different ways. But I believe that if you love someone, you will always want for them to be free. Victor: Because you love them, you want them to see the world in all its beauty. Victor: And you hope that, if they feel the same for you, that they will choose to return to you.

My heart skipped a beat at his words. Victor was ever so slightly different than normal, an air of loneliness lingering around him.

Victor: But this is all just what I think.

He winked at me, and there was no more trace of that faint loneliness I sensed. Hidden in his words was a glimmer of his true feelings that were quickly extinguished.

-----

We made our way to a corner of Hyde Park next.

Victor: There will be a garden party held here tomorrow. I’d like for you to attend.

Kate: Is it for a mission?

Victor: Correct! That’s my Kate, you’re always so sharp!

There were some barriers put up around the area to prevent people from wandering in as the party was being set up.

Victor: There’s actually going to be a social gathering the day after tomorrow that Her Majesty will be attending. Victor: One of the nobles invited to that gathering is suspected of participating in child prostitution. He will also be attending the party here tomorrow. Victor: He needs to be investigated. And if he is guilty, he must be brought to justice.

I nodded.

Kate: …Is this just going to be another intelligence gathering mission?

I couldn’t help but feel he still didn’t think I could handle other missions, and that he was continuing to keep me away from other missions. But, what Victor said told me that things were different now.

Victor: Tomorrow, yes. But not the day after that.

Kate: Eh?

Victor: If you determine that he deserves punishment, then I want you to be present when judgment is passed at the social gathering the day after tomorrow.

I inhaled sharply in surprise. He continued speaking.

Victor: You told me that the fact that I had drawn a line saddened you. Victor: I knew that you had prepared yourself, and yet it was out of my own selfishness that I still kept you far away from death.

He took both of my hands in his. His hands were warm, his fingers laced through mine. This time, I felt no more fear. 

Victor: Should you determine that he is deserving of death, then you must be there to witness it with your own eyes, and to record it. That is your duty as Fairytale Keeper. Victor: This may sound morbid. But I would like you to take it as my acknowledgment of your resolve.

If I found the noble guilty, if I decided that he should die, then I had to bear the responsibility of witnessing his death. It sounded like such an gruesome thing to do that it was almost funny.

(Victor probably had a hard time making this decision.)

He was the one who wanted to keep me away from death at all costs. I wouldn’t act as if I didn’t understand how troubled he must have been to ask me to do this.

(This mission is going to be a turning point.)

Crown’s Fairytale Keeper who recorded their evil would begin to walk down the same bloodstained path. I didn’t know yet what would await me down that path, but…

(I want to face Victor equally.)

Before, I felt as though he didn’t take my resolve seriously. But now that I finally had the opportunity to truly join him, there was no way I could do anything other than nod.

Kate: I’ll do it.

I squeezed his hands.

Kate: I’ll see whether his evil deserves punishment. And I’ll see it through to the end. Kate: So… if it does come to pass, and once it’s over…

Victor: Yes?

The truth. The truth about him that he’d avoided ever since that night, the lines he drew to keep me away from it. I wanted to know it all.

Kate: Once it’s over, please tell me everything you’re hiding.

[grimmsbride]

false heroics …. ! ₊ཾִ ᖫྀ ⁣⁣.

mohawk! & headcap! mark ╲ the instructions were to fight the two invincible variants, not fuck them you silly, silly girl.

𖥔 ࣪˖ tags⠀⎯ sex in mid air | fear kink | dub-con(? reader is into everything this is just incase) | manhandling | overstimulation | multiple orgasms | threesome | short little blurb | degradation | etc.

𖥔 ࣪˖ author’s notes ⠀⎯ i made a post about this idea like weeks ago, and just made a silly little blurb. also if you aren’t sure who headcap mark is, it’s the finest one that fought oliver and cracked his fucking shoulders just to turn me on. please enjoy.

You were a hero, someone people looked up to during their time of need. There eyes would simply focus on the sky, watching you soar by and knowing everything would be alright. You had that much of an effect on people. So much responsibility weighing on your shoulders, mistakes weren’t something you could afford.

So, why exactly, were you committing the biggest one of your entire career. Sorry, not one, but two.

Why on Earth instead of defending your city against its sudden invaders, were you getting completely ruined by not one— but two of them.

All above the wrecked streets they left behind.

“Hey, hey— where are you looking!?” The voice tugged you from your mind, dissipating as complete ecstasy shrouded your thoughts. The words felt so far away but close all the same, cloudy judgment no longer able to comprehend a thing.

Another voice came, one in the form of a chuckle; detailing their amusement in the most condescending manner.

“What a fucked out mess, can’t even think straight can you— little miss hero?”

The holder of such tone, Mohawk!Mark stared at you with several emotions swirling in that crazed gaze. He watched the way you withered around him, how each time his hips moved you were babbling incoherent sentences and moans that dripped with honey. With each push your body was jerking, legs threatening to close— but never budging.

Curtesy of the other Invincible flush behind you, his hands tight on your chubby thighs, spreading you for all the world to see. Headcap!Mark’s chin rested on your shoulder, watching the way your pussy so desperately sucked up his variant’s dick, squelching with each thrust, a sound that combined with the wind passing by the three of you.

Just a second ago the two intended to kill you, even briefly fighting over who got to do it. But in some sort of miracle — whether for you or them — the two quickly realized what a waste it would be.

Deciding the best course of action was this. Angstrom’s wishes could wait after their little fun.

“Mm—!” Tears pricked at your eyes from both the air and pleasure, screwing shut as your hands clenched and unclenched. You hadn’t a clue how long this has been going on, how many thrusts, how many times you’ve gushed around his dick. Your focus was completely gone, a mess of a hero; a disappointment who seemed to only think with what’s between her legs.

But you didn’t care. You didn’t need to think right now, didn’t need to focus on a thing but how good you were feeling. And it truly did feel amazing. Mohawk!Mark’s shaft dragged across your velvety walls so pleasantly, veins pulsing inside you. He was pushing deep, tip striking against that special spot at the most perfect angle; your already blurry vision suddenly being dotted with black spots with each hit.

“Fu—fuck.. please, please—!”

Pretty, desperate whines escaped your lips in a wet gasp, the two men eating it up entirely. Headcap!Mark carefully released one of your legs, instead reaching over for your face. Taking your cheeks within his fingers, the man turned you to face his half-masked features.

“Is this really one of Earth’s best heroes? Hm.. I’m starting to feel bad.” He watched the way your eyes opened, gaze glossed and full with pleasure filled tears. Such a sight had him grinning, thumb lowering to your lips and rubbing the area roughly.

“Come on, push us off, don’t you have a city to protect?”

A particularly hard thrust caused you to nearly shriek, shaking and struggling to find the response to his question.

“Y—you, I.. can’t..”

“You, I, can’t—“ Your attention was stolen from the Invincible behind you to the one infront of you, spotting that shit-eating grin capturing his lips as he mocked you.

“Use your words, or is the only thing that whorish brain can come up with are moans?”

“Fu..fuck, you—!”

You shuddered at the way their laughter surrounded you, vibrating against your already weak body.

“You already are, miss hero.”

“And you’re enjoying every second of it.”

You suddenly felt Mohawk!Mark grab your discarded thigh, pushing even closer as he drilled into you. You hadn’t a clue how he was fucking you so well in the air, but the explanation was quickly added to the growing list of your least worries. Your head tossed back against Headcap!Mark’s shoulder, whimpering as your pussy clenched so tightly.

The Invincible infront of you groaned, fingers digging into your flesh as he rutted into your aching body. That coil inside your stomach tightened, a familiar pressure building as hurried breaths dragged off your tongue.

With one final thrust you were coming undone, coating his lower half in your arousal, a flash of white even invading your vision.

You were truly thankful their hold on you was pretty tight, given how your body slumped from the exhaustion.

Soft pants escaped, chest rising and slowly falling as you sucked up the air. Your eyes closed in hopes of relaxing for a moment, only to feel familiar fingers clench your cheeks once again, stealing your attention back.

You peeked slowly, spotting the way Headcap!Mark’s lips pulled into a splitting grin. His body was close, bulge rubbing against your ass, aching for attention.

“Don’t pass out on us just yet. It’s my turn, after all.”

[spiceforyou]

Good Girl.

NSFW! 18+

Author's Note: Hi babes! Hope you enjoy!

Summary: You died a virgin. Let's fix that.

You can’t believe you died a virgin! That was the most devastating part of death. You were horny in life but never got with anyone unless yourself counted (it didn’t).

A few weeks post death the ghosts had decided to throw a little party. You had gotten ready with Rhonda and accidentally told her you died a virgin. Her mouth hung open comically before shaking her head and saying “We are changing that tonight Cherrypop.”

Your cheeks heated as you shook your head no. Rhonda smirked at you asking "Who do you have your eyes on? Yuri? He has that mysterious stoner artsy vibe. Dawn? She has the laid back quirky vibe. Oo I know!" She giggles excitedly. "It's Wally isn't it? The jock golden retriever." She watches as you glance away with a shrug acting uninterested.

"That's adorable. I'll be your wing woman." She smiles as she helps you finish doing your hair. You had managed to find a cute strapless dress to wear over your black band tee and paired it with your fishnets with black combat boots. You were feeling super cute by the time the party was starting.

You let Rhonda lead you to the decked out library where music was playing and lights were flashing. You were pretty sure you were crashing a reunion but it was fun none the less. Everyone else had already arrived. Wally was roaming around watching the living when you walked in.

He had heard Rhonda's giggle before anything. He glanced over and was mesmerized by you. He thought you always looked cute but tonight you looked down right delectable. His eyes caught on the smooth skin of your fishnet covered thighs before trailing up to your pursed pink lips.

You had felt his eyes on you before you spotted him. His eyes trailed from your thighs to your lips before his cheeks heated as your eyes met. You giggled and gave him a shy wave. He slowly made his way over to you a big smile gracing his face.

"You look great." He smiled at you. Your cheeks heated before you gave him a twirl. You giggled "You look pretty good yourself." He smirks at you before reaching out his hand. You take his hand and he tugs you towards the refreshments table.

He hands you a cup of punch before grabbing one for himself. "You look really really good, Y/N." he says as his eyes drink you in again. He is looking at you like he wants to eat you and it has your thighs clenching with want. You smirk at him looking up at him through your lashes "Are you checking me out, Wally?" You tease.

"Umm. Yea I definitely am. Is that okay?" he asks curiously. “It might be.” You shrug looking away from him. Rhonda comes running up to you as the song changes. She grabs your hand before saying “Sorry Wally I need to steal her for a minute.” Wally grabs your drink as you get pulled to the dance floor mouthing a sorry to him.

Rhonda gets you to the middle of the dance floor before spinning you around to face her. “Dance with me.” She says as she begins to sway her hips. “What?” You question as you begin mimicking her dance moves. “Wally is giving you fuck me eyes. All you need to do is shake your ass a little and he will be putty in your hands.” She smirks flicking her eyes to the refreshments table where Wally watches you.

You sway your hips and trail your hands down your body slowly as you watch Wally watch you. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth as he is mesmerized by the sway of your hips. He sets the drinks down and makes his way to you. His eyes never leave your frame.

He stands a few feet from you practically drooling as your dress rises showing more skin. You don’t even notice that he’s made his way to you until you feel his warm hands grab your hips. You turn slightly looking up at him as you back your ass up against him. Hit hands tighten on your hips and his warm breath dances across the back of your neck.

You grind against him as he mumbles out “fuck”. You giggle before wrapping your arms around his neck bringing his chin to rest on your shoulder. His hands slide to rest on your lower stomach warming your skin.

You take this opportunity to spin around in his arms. His hands now on your ass. You lean up on your tiptoes and whisper in his ear “Do you wanna get out of here?” Your lips graze his neck as his breath catches. He whimpers in your ear before saying “Yes. Please. Need you.” His words come out choppy like his brain is slower than his mouth.

You giggle kissing his cheek before grabbing his hand and tugging him through the other dancing bodies. You barely make it out of the library before he was pinning you against some lockers lips attaching to your neck and his hands kneading your ass.

Your hands grip his strong shoulders trying to steady yourself which is failing as his lips trail farther down your neck. “Wally…” you whimper out trying to get his attention. He either doesn’t hear you or doesn’t care leading you to lace your fingers through his thick hair tugging his hair until he pulls back.

He grunts at you as a pout graces his face. “Why’d you make me stop?” He groans before trying to attach back. You tug sharply on his hair. “Look where we are.” You say reminding him that anyone could leave the library and see you. It takes a second for his hazy mind to realize what you want. He grabs your hand and begins tugging you deeper into the school.

He almost stops a few other times but you give him a pointed look so he trudges on until you arrive at the abandoned teachers lounge. Once he pulls you through the door he’s got your thighs in his hands and your back pressed into the door as his lips finally attach to yours.

His lips warm yours, he nibbles at your bottom lip and snakes his tongue in your mouth while his hands knead your thighs. Your hands roam anywhere you can reach, scratching and tracing every inch. The kiss finally breaks leaving you gasping for breath as his lips trail down your jaw before his tongue licks at your neck. He blows cool air onto your neck before biting it and tracing the ache with his tongue.

He tightens his grip on you before pulling away from the door and sitting on the couch. As you settle into his lap a whimper passes through his lips as his hands slide under your dress gripping your ass roughly through your fishnets. You slowly rock your hips against his hardening cock, a tiny sigh slipping past your lips when your clit rubs against him.

His hips jut up at the cute noise that leaves your swollen lips. He uses his grip on your ass to guide your hips along his aching cock. You reach down to unbutton his slacks before lifting yourself to help him slide them down. Once you settle back against him a whine leaves the both of you. Your warmth seeps into his underwear leaving a damp spot where you grind down on him.

You roll your hips needing more friction, lacing your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, head tossed back as you hear him whimper out "Fuck yes baby just like that." You clench at his raspy words before looking down at him. He pulls you closer against him before he buries his face between your breast groaning and nipping at them with his teeth through your dress.

You gasp as he stands up suddenly flipping you onto your back on the couch. He stands on his knees in between your legs looking up at you. His warm hands run up your fishnet covered legs causing more heat to rush to your center. They trail up your inner thighs pushing your dress up as they go before settling an inch away from your molten middle.

He dips his head trailing his lips up from your knee a murmured plea leaving him. "Fuck can I please taste you baby? I need it. Please." He begs and who are you to deny him. His hands quickly pull your panties off your hips before he scoots back settling between your legs throwing one over each shoulder before reaching between your thighs and ripping the fishnets apart so he can get to you.

He smirks when a gasp leaves your lips, looking up at you "Gonna keep these on. You look so hot in them." You whine out as he licks a fat stripe up your center, your hands clenching and unclenching at your sides. He then spreads you open with his thumbs before spitting on your pussy and dragging it up to your clit with his middle finger. You whine out hips lifting to get his mouth on you.

He finally gives in and latches his mouth onto your clit massaging it with his tongue before his wet finger slides into you slowly. You cry out at the sensation your hands sinking back into his hair pulling you impossibly closer to your center.

He nips gently at your clit as he slips another finger inside of you. His fingers curl up into that spot that has the air leaving your lungs. He smirks against your clit continuing his abuse of your pussy. You cry out as your legs start to quake around his head. He adds a third finger sending you over the edge screaming "WALLY". He continues brushing that spot as he coos at you "That's it. Such a good girl for me. Gonna let me fuck this sweet pussy? Make you cum around my cock?" You cry out as you push at his shoulders getting over stimulated.

He pulls away before he bites onto the plush skin of your inner thigh before he bullies the spot until it has a purple hue. "Baby, gonna need an answer before I cum in my pants please." He begs looking up at your flustered state. You lock eyes with him giving him a nod yes.

He sigh leaves his mouth as if you were gonna say no to him. He crawls up your body before stripping you naked and following in suit himself. He grabs your thighs pushing them to your chest before rubbing his throbbing cock along your folds to get himself wet. He leans back and holds both of your thighs with one hand before he sets his hand over his cock pressing himself into your clit. You cry out as he thrusts, the head of his cock brushing over your clit deliciously before he drags his tip to your drooling entrance.

He pushes the tip in groaning out "So fucking tight. Fuck." You whimper as he slowly sinks into you. Once he's fully inside you he leans forward planting kisses to your lips. As he is kissing you his hips pull out slowly before slamming back into you, he swallows the scream that leaves you before pulling away himself to pant into your neck.

His hips continue their brutal pace as he falls apart inside you. He is whimpering 'fucks' and 'good girls' into your neck as he speeds up his pace. He leans back guiding one hand to your clit rubbing it in tight circles praising you "Taking me so well baby. Fuck feels so good." His eyes are locked onto your blissed out state. Your hair a mess and your lips wet spurring him closer to the edge. His hips stutter as you pulse around him.

"Fuck. Gonna let me cum in you baby?" he grunts as sweat drips down his temple looking up at you with hazy brown eyes. "Yea Wally. Yes please." You cry out as you feel yourself tipping over the edge. Wally watches as you cum around him looking so beautifully tired and gripping him so tight. He snaps his hips a few more times before burying his face back in your neck whimpering "Good girl" as he pumps you full of cum.

[spiderb00bs]

- THE GIVER

Ella Purnell x reader  

“Your girlfriend can finally relax and trust you for everything” 

Genre – fluff     Warnings – none 

 Now playing – The Giver, by Chappell Roan 

“So, baby, when you need the job done, you can call me, baby” 

You knew your girlfriend worked hard, that woman was practically a machine, job after job, just doing what she loves most. You love how Ella simply dedicates herself to every project she sets out to do, how she always gives her best in all of them, and that was one of the things that made you fall in love with the woman.   

Today was the day your girlfriend would finally come home after all the filming of Yellowjackets and Sweetpea. You were excited, jumping up and down. You'd tidied up the whole house - after going for a walk with the puppies you both adopted when you started dating - leaving everything just as you knew your girlfriend loved it, you'd made her favorite dish for dinner and picked up one of the most expensive wines you could find.   

Despite Ella telling you that you didn't need to pick her up at the airport, you went against all the woman's arguments, standing happily at your girlfriend's arrivals gate while you waited for her to appear among the people.   

Despite the cap and sunglasses, you could recognize your girlfriend from miles away. Approaching, you saw the woman smile lovingly, quickly entangling herself in your open arms. You loved knowing that she was working with what she loved out there, but it would be a big lie if you said you didn't miss hugging her like that.   

"Oh my God, how I've missed you." You said, tucking the lower woman's head into your chest.   

Removing her sunglasses from her face, Ella looked at you with a big smile, before sealing her lips to yours. "I missed you the most."  

Breaking away from the hug, you quickly grabbed her bag, entwining your hand with hers and pulling her into the car with you. "Babe, I can take my bag." Ella said, laughing slightly.   

"I know you can, but let me do it, okay?!" With a smile on her face, your girlfriend shook her head amusedly.  

Ella loved how devoted to her you were, and she had to admit she wasn't used to it. She was always a woman who managed to do her own thing, without much help along the way. In her relationships, she can't remember having anyone treat her the way you do, she's never been as well looked after, as spoiled and ill-at-ease as you make her feel, and she loves it. 

"What the fuck?" You heard your girlfriend's voice coming from the kitchen.   

You'd just come back from an intense workout, hurrying upstairs to take a shower after a make-out session with your girlfriend - who really enjoyed seeing you all sweaty and with your muscles exposed. You were going downstairs to get something to eat, the feeling of being clean strangely reminded you of hunger, but when you heard your girlfriend complaining about something, you had to sort it out.   

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Wrapping your arms around her waist, you saw her looking out into the yard of your house, following her gaze and seeing a fox, well ensconced in the space.  

"It seems this house loves to attract animals of all kinds." Ella's eyebrows were slightly furrowed, and the cute pout on her lips made you want to kiss her. "What do we do?"   

Thinking about the situation, you went to the kitchen sink, grabbed a cloth and dipped it in the tap. Looking at you with confusion, your girlfriend tried to see what you were doing, still without taking her eyes off the animal. Ella could see you wringing the cloth, letting the water run down the drain, and watching your bare back flex as you applied force to what you were doing. Biting her lower lip, your girlfriend remembered minutes ago, when she was riding you for the same reason she's drooling now, your muscles.   

Seeing you come back, the brunette shook her head, getting rid of the perverted thoughts that ran through her mind, but leaving a mental reminder to come back to them when the two of you were going to bed.   

"What's that?" Ella asked, looking at the cloth in your hands. It had a slightly strong smell, and she had to cover her nose with the shirt she was wearing.   

"It's just a bit of repellent. It'll keep it away without hurting." You said, opening the glass door and carefully dropping the cloth into the middle of the room.   

Smelling the strong odor, the fox quickly fled back the way it had come, through a small hole in the fence.  

"Oh, so that's where it came in." Your girlfriend pointed to the broken fence, making you shake your head and put your hands on your waist.   

"Looks like it. I'll go to a construction store after I've had my coffee and buy the materials to fix it." You said, pulling the smaller woman close to you by the waist, leaving a kiss on her head.   

Looking up to see your eyes, Ella smiled slightly. "Do you know how to fix this?"   

"Of course, my love!" You had a smile on your face, and Ella swore she could melt in your arms. "You're talking to a blue collar girl."   

Giving her a kiss on the lips, you went into the kitchen to prepare your breakfast, leaving Ella standing there watching you walk away. Three things were going through her mind at that moment; 1. she's finally found someone who doesn't dump things on her, 2. she's going to marry you, and 3. you're going to get a BIG reward after you mend the fence tonight. 

It was dark when you finally got home, the fence concert successfully completed. All you needed now was a shower and your girlfriend.

"Baby?" you called out. You knew the big-eyed woman hadn't come out, so you went upstairs, thinking she might be asleep or taking a bath.

When you opened the bedroom door, you found the bed neatly made, untouched. The room smelled of Ella's perfume, and the lights were low and music was playing through the speakers, making the atmosphere sexy and cozy at the same time.

If Ella was a room, this would be it.

"My love? Are you in the bathroom?"

As you walked further into the room, you heard the door close, jumping before you looked back and finally saw your girlfriend in black lingerie, which perfectly highlighted her tanned skin tone. Her hair was loose, and her bangs fell perfectly over her big brown eyes.

"Baby… what's all this?" You asked confused, but Ella could see the smile appearing on your face.

"You're so good to me, baby." The woman moved closer, wrapping her arms around your neck. "Let me be good to you too."

No smut for you this time, you little perverts hehehe

this is dedicated to everyone who asked for more fics of Ella

Drink water and stay safe,

xoxo, spider.