#I said I’d marry you idiot I didn’t say I’d wear the fucking dress!

[sleepingghostt]

[glytchfic]

We started as a spark. PART 2.

David Dastmalchian x Fem!Reader

Bonjour! There goes Part 2, it’s a bit longer than Part 1. Look, i was truly inspired, okay? Anyway, i’m letting you guys decide which Tom is it, it’s up to you - wink wink -. And I’ve decided to change the name of the story, it’s still from the same song but i thought it was more fitting. 

Special thanks to everyone who’s reading me, i really appreciate it. Comments, complaints, the usual!

PS: Since i’m pretty new to the whole Tumblr thing, can anyone explain to me how am i suppose to do a ‘read more’ option on my post so people who doesn’t want to read it don’t have to scroll for so long? lol, i feel stupidddddd.

Enjoy!

Rating: 18+

Warnings: slow burn, foul language, flirting, sexual tension, drinking, brief mention of marital problems. 

Inspired by the song False Alarm by Matoma and Becky Hills.

___________________________________________________________

‘How about this one?’

‘You are not gonna get laid in this one, trust me.’ my friend tells me.

‘What if, and it might sound totally crazy, I don’t wanna get laid?’ I say, amused.

‘At a wedding? Bullshit.’  

I laugh a bit and go back to my cabin to change again. I look at all the possibilities in front of me, pink puffy dress, green silk dress and a white dress. I scowl looking at the white dress. As if I would wear that to someone else’s wedding. I draw the curtains of the cabin, only in my underwear, and look at Alica.

‘I’m desperate. For the love of God, find me something.’ I whine.

‘Why do you care so much about this wedding anyway?’ she says as she browses through a bunch of dresses behind her.

‘David will be there.’

‘The guy who looks like a serial killer?’

‘He does not -’ I begin, walking towards her, ‘he’s a sweet guy.’  

‘And he’s married.’ she states.

‘Yes, he is.’ I mutter.

After a long silence, she gently slaps me on my arm, ‘Oh my god! Are you serious? I thought you didn’t sleep with married men!’

‘I don’t!’ I defend myself, ‘I just – I don’t know. I wanna be smoking hot at Sean’s wedding and the fact that David is there might or might not have a direct link to my desperate search for the perfect dress. We might never know.’ I say with a bit of sarcasm.

‘Sweetie,’ she puts her hands on my shoulders, ‘I’m sure he’s a fantastic guy, but don’t get too hyped about him. You’re gonna get yourself hurt.’ she says in a gentle tone.

‘I -’ I stammer, ‘Look, it’s just a dumb crush. I’ll be over it after a new one-night stand.’

‘Are you sure?’ she questions me.

‘Sure. I mean, yeah, I’d climb this guy like a fucking tree -’

‘You’re unbelievable.’ she cuts me off.

‘Buuuuuut -’ I motion to her to let me finish, ‘I can’t, and I won’t. I honestly think David and I can be good friends. Whether you believe me or not, I really do think that.’ I reassure her.

‘I do believe you, but please, just be careful. I’m telling you this because I care about you.’ she says while putting a strand of my hair behind my ear.  

‘I know and if you were in my shoes, I would be telling you the same thing.’ I smile at her.

‘I know.’ she smiles back.

I hesitate a few seconds, ‘So anyway, as I was saying: like a fucking tree -’ I joke and start laughing.

‘Oh my god!’ she throws a black dress at my face, ‘go try this one. Hopefully, it’ll help you get some.’

_

Car keys in hands, I lock my car and walk toward the ceremony. I put my keys in my purse and see I have a text message from Alica wishing me good luck for the evening and all. I text back a simple ‘Thanks, love you xx’ and I put in back in my purse. I stop in front of the door, and I observe my surroundings. I see a few faces I recognize, and they wave at me. I wave back and smile at them. This event won’t be that bad. I’ll probably run into lots of people I know – from the industry – that I haven’t seen in a long time. Good opportunity to catch up.

‘Wow! You look beautiful!’

I hear a familiar voice and turn around. I see Daniela – Melchior, aka Ratcatcher 2 – trotting towards me. She opens her arms; I do the same and we hug each other more tightly than I thought we would. I really do enjoy Daniela’s presence, but she lives in Portugal and only come to the USA from time to time for the pre-production of the film so I haven’t had the chance to get to know her as much as I would have liked.

‘I didn’t think you would be here!’ I say, surprised.

‘Me neither, but James convinced Warner Bros to pay for my plane ticket and told them it was work related.’ she says, excited.

I laugh, ‘Of course he did that.’

I’ve known James for years and I would’ve been surprised if he hadn’t arranged for Daniela to be here for his brother’s wedding. James is always like that; he wants to create a sense of family with his crew, and no one is left behind.  

‘I’m so nervous.’ Daniela says quietly.

‘How come?’

‘I don’t know anyone here except for the Suicide Squad gang.’ she muttered, looking down.

‘Hey, gotta start somewhere, right?’ I gently put my hand under her chin, and I slowly raise her head. ‘don’t worry about anything, we got you.’ I wink at her, and a beautiful smile appears on her face.

‘Thanks.’

Daniela is, by far, the youngest of the group. She’s barely 23 years old, she’s from Portugal, English is not her first language, and The Suicide Squad is her first big international role. I remember the first time I saw her, she looked so intimidated being surrounded by all of us, but she’s learning so fast and I can’t wait to see what she’ll give us once we’re on set.

‘Let’s go, it’ll probably starts soon.’ I wrap a protective arm around her, and we walk through the front door.

_

‘I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!’ the priest exclaims.

Sean grabs Nathasha – now officially his wife – by her waist and they kiss each other passionately. Everyone stands up and applauds to congratulate the newly married couple. Daniela grabs my arm, all excited by Sean and Nathasha walking down the aisle. I look at them, a huge smile on my face, and something – someone – caught my attention in the background.

‘What are you looking at?’ Daniela questions me, ‘hey look, David is over there!’ she says pointing in his direction.

Oh, poor child, if only you knew. Everyone starts following the married couple down the aisle and Daniela gently grabs my hand so we can’t get separated. Walking through this crown of Sean and Nathasha’s friends, Daniela and I find the exit and get there just in time to see the newly married couple leaving the place to go to the reception. I smile as I look at the car disappearing from my sight, I turn around towards Daniela and I freeze, my smile slowly fading away.

‘What’s the matter?’ Daniela asks, worried.

She follows my gaze and sees what I was looking at. David walking towards us, hand in hand with his – I assume – his wife. He waves at us and Daniela waves back at him while I’m still not moving. This shouldn’t be a surprise really. It makes perfect sense that he’s at a wedding ceremony with his wife and – fucking hell – she's pretty.

‘Hi, I’m Evelyn!’ she says with enthusiasm.

And she seems so nice. And has a good vibe. And they look like a great couple. And – fuck – I feel horrible for all the thoughts I’ve had – and still have – about her husband in the last two months. Daniela, still holding my hand, looks between me and her a few times and squeezes my hand a bit as if she was comforting me. I can hear them make small talk about the wedding and all, but I’m not paying attention. I see David trying to catch my gaze, but every time I either look at Daniela or his wife. I feel like such a spoiled brat, I shouldn’t be affected that much by this. I don’t want to marry him goddamn it, I just wanna – but I won’t - have sex with him. It’s just an attraction. A deep, intense and consuming attraction, but still an attraction, nonetheless. Why am I like this?  

‘Are you okay?’ Daniela asks, still worried.

I don’t answer as I look David and his wife walking towards their car, probably on their way to the ceremony. Daniela put her other hand on my back and hugs me a little.

‘I know what it feels like.’ she simply whispers close to my ear.

‘What do you mean?’ I mutter, getting back to reality.

‘I have been there before. It will be fine, trust me.’ she hugs me a bit tighter.

I turn my head towards her, and she gives me a warm smile.

‘Is it really that obvious?’

She laughs, ‘Come on, we have to go.’

Fuck, she knows.

_

Drink in hand, I’m on the dance floor with Daniela and we’re giving everything we have. Screaming the lyrics to the Icona Pop song ‘All Night’, she takes my free hand, and we start spinning, laughing and stumbling around. The last note of the song echoed on the dance floor, and I look at Daniela, out of breath.

‘How long have we been here? Jesus.’ I say catching my breath.

‘Long enough for this guy at the bar to completely undress you with his eyes.’ she subtly points me the direction with her chin.

I turn around to see the handsome stranger and I chuckle a bit. It’s no stranger, I know this guy. I look at Daniela as I finish my drink, I put it on the table next to us and I wink at her before leaving.

‘Hey Tom.’ I say seductively.  

‘Good evening, gorgeous.’ He flirts back in his English accent.  

Tom and I aren’t at our first ride together. We have history together, nothing serious really, but we do appreciate each other a lot. And he’s a good fuck, there I said it. For what feels like hours – who knows how long – we catch up, flirt, have a few drinks, hands wandering here and there. I feel myself getting more and more tipsy as the minute goes by. As Tom was whispering sweet nothings in my ear, something else caught my attention a bit far away. David and his wife, talking. They both move their hands a lot. Oh. I’m an idiot. They’re arguing. Not the ‘imma-scream-and-make-a-scene’ type of argument, but you can clearly see something is going on. After a few minutes, they both seem to have calm down. David put his hand on Evelyn’s hips and tries to kiss her, but she turns her head away, kissing her cheek instead. She gives him a weak smile and leaves. David sighs, rubs his forehead and walks towards the bar.

‘Tom, could you give me a moment, please? I think my friend’s not feeling good.’ I say, worried.

‘Of course, darling.’  

I get up and finally realize that I’m a bit more drunk that I thought I was, but nothing too crazy. I’ve seen worse, way much worse. I stabilize myself and walk towards the other bar where David was sitting all by himself, leaning his forehead against the palm of his left hand as the other was mindlessly scrolling on his phone.  

‘What is a handsome place like this doing in a man like you?’ I say, thinking I’m incredibly funny.

He turns around to look at me, a weak smile on his lips.

‘That was dumb as fuck, I’m sorry. Can -’ I sit down next to him, ‘can I buy you a drink or something?’

‘That’s very nice of you, but I don’t drink.’ He simply says.

‘Oh.’

I look around, a bit awkward. Even though there’s loud music playing permanently, it feels like there’s a heavy silence between us. I decide to stay right next to him and I start scrolling on my phone too.

‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’ He mutters.

‘Oh, I insist! S’cuse me, sir -’ the barman turns towards me, ‘can I have two glasses of water pretty please?’ the barman nods.

‘You’re unstoppable, aren’t you?’ Another weak smile appears on his lips.

‘Always. So -’ the barman puts down the glasses in front of us, ‘you wanna talk about it?’ I risk myself.

‘Not really, actually.’ He sighs.

‘It’s perfectly fine! So, hmm, ah yes! I watched this horror movie the other day, I’m sure you would have love it! There’s this girl, y’know? She slept with a guy she went on a movie date with. After their sexy time this asshole fucking drugs her with – what's it called – that liquid they use on washcloths in movie to make people fall asleep and kidnap them?’

‘Chloroform.’ He chuckles.

‘This! Yes! So anyway, she falls asleep and when she wakes up, she’s tied up on a chair! And then there’s this weird looking naked woman walking towards the girl and turns out this woman is actually a ghost now chasing the girl and the guy slept with her because you can pass this ghost curse through sex. Can you fucking believe that?’

‘I cannot believe it.’ He says, clearly amused.

‘Does it make sense? Should I stop? Sorry, I’ve been drinking tonight.’ I say, a bit embarrassed.

‘No, no! Please, tell me more.’

And I keep babbling about the movie It Follows and as I go, I realize that most of the things I say don’t make any sense at all, but as long as David keeps smiling and laughing, I’ll just keep going. At one point of the story, he bursts out laughing which makes me smile so much that my jaw is almost hurting.  

‘There it is. That smile.’ I simply say.

Hu blushes, ‘Thanks.’

We look at each other for a few seconds and I motion him to drink water, which he does. I do the same and I almost choke on my water when I hear ‘Dance With Me Tonight’ by Olly Murs starts playing. I put down my glass and take David by the arm with enthusiasm.  

‘That’s my song, come on David!’ I pull on his arm.

He laughs and I can feel him letting himself go. He follows me on the dance floor, and I start dancing, encouraging him. He looks around, with a small smile on his lips and he looks back at me, rubbing his neck with his hand. I reach out to him, and he grabs my hands. Laughing and moving around, we can’t stop looking at each other as we’re having the time of our life. I suddenly stop when I feel a hand – not David’s - on my shoulder.

‘I was looking everywhere for you, darling.’ he says slipping his hand down my back, ‘I’m Tom.’ he stares at my partner.

‘David.’ he simply answers.

‘I’m going back to my place, darling. Care to join me?’ he gets closer to me.

Still holding David’s hand, I look between him and Tom, unsure of myself. I glance at David who gives me a reassuring smile. I know he wouldn’t be mad at me. I mean, I do wanna get laid. But.

‘Sorry, Tom. I’m staying.’ I say confidently as I feel David’s hands gently squeezing mine.

‘Oh, I see.’ he bends towards me and kiss me on the temple, ‘call me, okay?’

I nod and watch him leave the place. I exhale deeply and turn back towards David who has a cheeky smile on his face. He rubs my hand a little bit with his thumbs, and he laughs.

‘Did I just cock-blocked you?’

‘I think you did.’ I laugh back.

He hesitates, ‘It’s not too late if you want to join him.’ he says looking in the direction Tom left.

‘No! I -’ I cut him off, ‘I’d rather stay here.’ I say under my breath.

He smiles, ‘Where were we?’ he starts dancing again.

_

Quoting our favorite movies, David and I are walking down my street. I would be lying if I said I was still drunk, I’m not. I haven’t had a drink since I went to see David at the bar, but I don’t feel like I need the effect of alcohol to enjoy myself right at this moment.  

‘You didn’t have to walk me home, y’know?’ I shiver.

‘I know, but I wanted to.’ hey says as he wraps his jacket around my shoulders.

I blush and look down at my feet. We walk down the rest of the street in a comfortable silence and I’m here, wondering what would happen next if he wasn’t married. I push those thoughts away as I see my apartment complex in front of me.

‘Home sweet home.’ I sigh, not wanting this night to ever end.

‘Home sweet home, indeed.’ he replies, ‘look,’ he hesitates a few seconds, ‘thank you for tonight. I truly mean it.’ he says with a warm smile.

I feel my heart beating faster, ‘Anything for you, David.’

He looks down, bites his lips and looks back at me, ‘I forgot to tell you,’ he gets closer, ‘you looked lovely tonight.’ he gently takes back his jacket from my shoulders.

I catch my breath, ‘Thanks.’

‘Sweet dreams.’ he whispers.

‘Good night.’ I whisper back and he smiles.

He turns around and starts walking again. I look at him for a few seconds before I enter my apartment complex with a sigh of – I don’t know – frustration or relief, I wouldn’t be able to say which one.

‘Are you okay, miss?’ Alexander, the night shift lobbyist, asks me.  

‘Yes, I’m fine.’  

No, Alexander, I’m not fine. My core is throbbing, my heart is racing, and I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this fucking horny.  

[mistersshelby]

removing the dagger

hi yes it's me, yes i know i haven't updated my masterlist in ages, yes i am aware i have an unfinished wip that i promised to post months ago, i'm just a stupid fanfic writer begging her audience to love her!!!! anyway!!! i have two other things in the works that I'm hoping to finish, but in the mean time this is one shot i based on ivy and tolerate it from taylor swift's album evermore. i hope you like it, i missed y'all!!! send me asks pls i'm lonely

pairing: tommy x reader

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

“We’ll be entertaining guests this weekend.”

You looked up from your breakfast plate in shock, wondering if your husband was addressing you or someone else. You gave the room a quick scan. No, it was indeed just you. “Alright.” You said hesitantly, “Who will be attending?”

He hadn’t looked up at you from his newspaper at the other end of the table. He felt miles away rather than a meter or two. “Just some business partners and their wives.” He finally looks up. You’re so unused to his direct attention you have to stop yourself from flinching away from his gaze, “You should go into town. Buy yourself a new dress.” Just as quickly as his gaze had met yours, he drops it again.

You draw your attention back to your breakfast plate, spreading butter on a scone before biting into it. “Do you need anything while I’m out, dear?”

“No thank you, love.”

The endearments don’t mean anything, this you know. It’s a formality. You’re husband and wife, and you speak to each other that way, but the words are empty. The truth is, day in and day out you watch him, you know all his routines. You hand him items before he can reach for them. Buy the book you know he’d been wanting for ages, but never got around to go to the store for. Refill the liquor cabinet before he can get to the bottom of a vodka bottle. And still. And still, he doesn’t see you. Not really. You leave the breakfast table to get ready to go into town and you know he won’t notice you’ve left until the maid clears your plate.

***

Another evening filled with pleasantries, pretty gowns, fake smiles. Men complimenting you and informing your husband how lucky he is to have such a beautiful, young wife. Your husband simply thanks them and doesn’t even look your way.

It’s not until he walks into the room that you feel you’ve been startled from sleep. He looks the same as you remember. There may be a few more lines around his eyes and mouth, but otherwise the same. Except now he looks like a walking weapon. That’s what the war had turned him into. You had kept tabs on him once you found out he had made it home from France, alive. The things you heard, the things this man that you used to love so dearly had done, well you suppose it didn’t surprise you. Tommy had always been too clever for his own good, almost too resilient. It made sense that France would have chewed him up and spit him out, kept most of the love and kindness he possessed.

But then his eyes find yours through the crowd and when he locks on you the same love and desire that had always been there, burns there now. No, the war couldn’t burn out his love for you. Your abandonment and consequential marriage that he read about in the paper couldn’t burn it out either. He’d love you until his dying day. And then he’s in front of you and words fail you, “Thomas,” You finally manage, “You… look well.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, “It’s good to see you.” And he ever so gently lifts your hand and presses his lips to your skin. A chill runs through you and it takes all your effort not to snatch your hand away. His knowing grin tells you he’s noted his effect on you.

“And who are you?” Your husband interjects, noticing the affront that was greeting you before himself.

“Thomas, this is my husband, Benjamin.”

Tommy looks your husband up and down for longer than is polite before reaching his hand out to meet your husband’s, “A pleasure.” He murmurs.

“How do you know my wife, mister…”

“Shelby.” Tommy fills in for him, and then glances at you, “Your wife and I were--”

“Childhood friends.” You interject before he can finish and force a smile.

Tommy stares at you for a prolonged second before turning back to your husband, “Yes. Childhood friends.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Benjamin exclaimed, “You grew up in Oxford then, yeah?”

The confusion is evident on Tommy’s face so you jump in quickly, “Yeah! Both grew up in Oxford, isn’t that right, Tommy?”

Tommy looks annoyed at having to lie, but nods anyway, “That’s right.” He speaks with Benjamin for a few moments about business and you find yourself staring at him, the freckles on his cheeks you used to kiss so tenderly. His hair that you used to run fingers through. His eyelashes that used to tickle your skin when he fell asleep. His voice that used to whisper adorations in your ear while other women looked on with jealousy.

“I hope you won’t mind if I steal your wife for a dance, sir, I’d love to catch up with her for a moment.”

Benjamin gave him a disarming smile, a smile you hadn’t seen since he had courted you and it made your heart ache. He lifted his glass to Tommy, “She’s all yours.”

You managed a small smile as Tommy took your hand and led you to the center of the room. You could feel tears burning the back of your eyes at the familiarity of his touch. No one had touched you like this, well, since Tommy left Small Heath.

“Oxford, eh?” Tommy started, “What else did you have to lie about to become such an esteemed lady?”

You frowned, “I did what I had to do. It appears you did the same.”

He shakes his head, “I never lied about where I came from out of shame to achieve the lifestyle I wanted.” His voice is bitter, and you won’t lie, it stings coming from the only person who had made you feel like you were worth something.

“I’m not ashamed of Small Heath.”

“Everything about who you’ve married, to what you’re wearing, to the house you live in, to the lies about me suggest otherwise.”

“I didn’t lie about you because I was ashamed, Benjamin gets… jealous. It was just easier not to explain.”

“Does Benjamin have reason to be jealous?”

You looked into those blue eyes you had adored so long ago and saw the same longing and lust sitting there. Your lips part and you pause, trying to find the right words to convey that you were sorry for how things ended. That you wished things could have been different. But he senses your hesitation and his eyes go cold, those familiar walls that you had worked for years to tear down are back up in full force. You suppose it’s what you deserve.

“Forget it. Stupid question.”

“Tommy--”

“No, don’t. You’re obviously very happy here.”

And you realized as he said it that he was so incredibly wrong about that, “I’m not.” The words tumbled out before you could stop them. Your eyes begin to water before you can stop them, “I’ve never been more unhappy in my life.”

Concern floods Tommy features, “Is he hurting you?”

You almost laugh, “No, no he’s never raised a hand to me. He’s never even raised his voice to me. He just… rarely remembers that I exist is all.”

“Well he’s an idiot then.” The corner of your mouth turned up just a bit at his crassness. “Can’t imagine having you walk around this house day in and day out looking like that and not giving you the attention you deserve.”

You have to bite down hard on your lip to keep the tears lodged in your throat at bay, “Do you have a smoke?”

He frowns, “I can’t imagine Benjamin allows a lady like you to smoke.”

“Tommy, please, he won’t even know we’re gone.” Sure enough, when you look over he’s immersed in conversation, “Come outside with me.” You tug on his arm before he can respond, weaving through guests who didn’t give you a second glance.

Once outside, you gulp in the cold air and lean against the stone wall behind you. Tommy joins a few seconds later, “Are you alright?” He asks as he reaches into his pocket and takes out his cigarettes.

“Can you tell me about Birmingham? What’s it like now?”

While you smoked, he talked about his family and the business. How Polly was doing, and Finn who you could still remember being born. Arthur and his anger problems. John and his relentless jokes. And when your cigarette was nothing more than a useless stub, you noticed there were silent tears rolling down your cheeks.

Tommy glanced at you and then dropped his own cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe, “Why are you here if it makes you so sad?”

The reason you had married Benjamin was because you had promised yourself you would never have to go hungry again. You would never have to worry about someone breaking in and slitting your throat for a loaf of bread. You wouldn’t have to stare at dresses in shops anymore knowing you would never have enough money for it. You never wanted any children you bore to feel that pain either. So you had done what you thought was needed to obtain this lifestyle and now that you were here, it didn’t feel the way you expected it to.

You can’t answer him and instead you look up at the sky and snow starts to fall on your face. “It’s snowing.” You announce to Tommy. He says nothing and you get the feeling he’s annoyed with you. “We had our first kiss in the snow. Do you remember?”

He scoffs and pushes himself off the wall, “I’m not playing your games tonight, I shouldn’t have come here.”

“And why did you come here?” You call after him as he walks away, “Why the fuck did you come, eh? To rub it in my face that I made the wrong decision?”

He turns back to you and he has that cocky smirk on his face, “Listen to that Birmingham accent. Does your husband know his lady’s got such a dirty mouth?”

You don’t know why this is the remark that does it, but you take a sharp intake of breath and your lungs shudder with sobs as the tears pour down your cheeks. The smirk falls from Tommy’s face and he reaches for you, but you pull away. “Love, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“Darling?” Your husband stands in the doorway and both you and Tommy freeze, “What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your death out there in the cold.”

You close your eyes for a moment, schooling your features before you respond, “I’ll be just a minute dear, Mr. Shelby was just leaving. I was seeing him off.” Every trace of the tears was gone from your voice. Tommy would be impressed if it didn’t mean that you had clearly needed to practice seeming happy and upbeat when you were breaking inside.

It’s so easy how quickly he loses interest, Benjamin, and turns back to go inside without another glance. “Why did you come here?” You ask Tommy again.

He sighs, “I had hoped that seeing you happy would give me the closure I needed. Unfortunately, seeing you choose misery over me has only made me feel worse.” He says bitterly. Your face crumples and he steps away from you, “Goodnight, my love.”

When he’s gone you wish to scream and cry and you hate him for coming here and shattering the glass walls you had built around yourself to tell you that you were fine. You were fine with your finery and your loneliness and the gin you drink when Benjamin isn’t home. How he ignores the smell of it on your breath. His deliberate silence when you know he can feel your cries shake the bed at night. You thought you had packed Tommy Shelby neatly away in the far corner of your mind where you wouldn’t find him again. Wouldn’t remember what it was like to feel loved. To feel alive. But you remember. And now he’s gone again. Just like when he left for France. Just like when you wrote that final letter to him that you were to be married.

And so you walk back into that house of stone. You murmur to Benjamin that you’re tired and you’ll be retiring early. And he just nods, barely hearing you, like he always does. And you settle into bed and stare at the wall as the house goes quiet. And finally the bed shifts with his weight and his breathing settles and he doesn’t reach for you. He never does.

Goodnight, my love.

***

The mud of the road squelches beneath your shoes and you're conscious of the way everyone in Small Heath stares at you, walking around like this, but you’d had no choice. No trace of your old wardrobe before you married Benjamin existed. He hadn’t allowed it. You didn’t want any reminders, anyway. Besides which, you had told Benjamin you were out for lunch with a friend and had dressed appropriately. When you swing open the door to the Garrison, you don’t see any Shelbys, but everyone stares at you nonetheless. You imagine word will travel fast to Tommy that you’re here.

Sure enough, as you finished your first drink, you heard the doors swing open and a hush fell over the occupants of the bar. You didn’t look up when he sat next to you. “What are you doing in my bar?” He said, his voice was demanding and cold.

“Having a drink.” You said as the bartender slid you another.

Tommy took it from your hand and dumped it on the floor, “Don’t give her another one.” He said to the bartender. “I asked you what the hell you’re doing here, don’t try my patience.”

“I was drinking that.” You said through clenched teeth.

“You’re drunk, you’ve obviously been drinking all day, surely Benjamin darling noticed that before he let you leave the house, eh?”

You turned to him, eyes bloodshot and unfocused, “I came here… Because you never told me… If you remembered our first kiss.”

He stares at you for a few moments, “You came all the way to Small Heath to ask me if I remember our first kiss?”

You blink, “Why are you just repeating what I just told you?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Yes, I remember it. Now will you go home?”

“I am home.”

“This isn’t your home anymore, you made sure of that.”

“How is what I did any fucking different from what you did? I married him to fuckin’ survive. That’s it. And you would’ve done the same in my place.” While you were talking you kept trying to get the bartender’s attention, but he was purposely ignoring you now, “Will you please tell your bartender to get me a drink?”

He leans in close to your ear and you still, “You could have married me. I could have given you everything if you had just waited.”

You turn your head to look at him and your lips are just inches from his, “I didn’t think you would come back, Tommy. So many men were dying every day, I didn’t think you would come back and I was running out of time to find someone else to marry. I’m sorry.” You don’t know if it’s the alcohol that makes you brave, but you lean into him just a little bit and he doesn’t move away. So you close the distance between you.

The kiss is quick, and you pull away to gage his reaction. But his eyes only dart from yours back down to your mouth before his fingers graze your chin and gently pull you to him again. You can’t believe how alive it makes you feel to be kissed, really kissed, by someone who wants you.

“You’re drunk.” Tommy says finally, pulling away.

“So what?”

“So you wouldn’t be cheating on your husband if you weren’t drunk.”

You snort, “I would do just about anything to feel the way you made me feel again.”

He shakes his head at you, “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. So, what? You’re just going to have an affair with me and I’m supposed to be satisfied with that?”

“What do you suppose we do instead?”

“Leave him and marry me.”

He’s so sincere, and for a moment you allow yourself to think that you could. “You know I can’t do that.” You say quietly.

He nods and lowers his head, “Then I’m not sure how I can help you, Mrs. Davies.”

His use of your married name feels like a blow, “I know you feel the same as I do when we kiss, isn’t it worth it just for that?”

“I don’t do well with sharing.” He practically snarled in your face.

“I’m his in name alone. You own me, body, soul, and spirit, Tommy. You always have.”

Suddenly, he straightens as if he’s just now realized where he is. “Come with me.” He says quickly, sharply. You practically run after him and when you get outside, you see his horse. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

“Where are you taking me?”

He rolls his eyes, “Can you ever just listen to me for once?” And without asking permission, lifted you up by your waist enough to get you on the saddle. When he comes up after you, you hesitate before wrapping your arms around his waist to keep yourself steady. It reminds you so vividly of just a few years earlier, you allow yourself to sink into the memories. It doesn’t take you long to realize he’s taking you to your old haunt. An abandoned house in the middle of the woods, overgrown with ivy.

“Why are we here?” As he helps you down from the horse, your faces nearly collide as your feet touch the ground. He seems to want to kiss you, but holds back.

“I waited here for you for days when I got back.” He says, walking away from you and towards the house. “When you stopped sending me letters, I had a feeling you had changed your mind, but I still hoped.”

You blink, “You never got my letter?”

He turns back to you, now leaning against a half demolished wall, “Did you send me a letter to tell me you were marrying that wanker? I honestly thought it was kinder that you hadn’t.”

You swallowed, “Yes, I sent you a letter.”

“And what did it say?”

You sigh, suddenly you’re frustrated with him, “That was years ago, Tommy, can’t we move on?”

He laughs, but it’s cold, “For you it was years ago, I’ve been living in this hell you left me in ever since. I didn’t get to move on to palaces and dinner parties and expensive champagne. I came back here and started another war, all in the hopes that one day I could provide for you and you would come home. And all the while you’ve been sleeping in another man’s bed.”

You look down at your feet. You understand the anger and the resentment he holds. After all, you knew when you sent that letter if he survived the war he would never forgive you. But here he was, some sort of dark, fallen angel, standing in front of you. Spreading over you again like ivy, the same way he had when you were younger. “I know I can’t take back the pain I’ve caused,” He was already scoffing and turning away from you, “But I’m here now. And so are you. And all I know is that being with you again makes me feel something and I haven’t felt anything since I sent out that letter.”

“So just like that, you think everything’s fixed?” He storms up to you, trapping you against the wall behind you. “You think you can just pop back in, say you’re sorry, and everything’s all better?”

You roll your eyes, unimpressed with his display of anger, “Of course not, Tommy, I’m not stupid.” You reach your hand out and delicately trail your fingers down his chest, “I just think… That it’d be a shame to deny each other what we both want.”

Without warning his hand clamps around your wrist and slams it against the wall behind you. It doesn’t hurt, really, but he did catch you off guard so you wince anyway.

He leaned forward until his lips brushed your ear, “Who said you could touch me without explicit permission?”

A chill went down your spine at the sound of his voice and you find yourself smirking, “Don’t need permission to touch what belongs to me.” You still know exactly what to say to piss him off.

He shoves you against the wall again, “You think this is fuckin’ funny, eh?” He leans down to look you eye to eye, “Am I laughing?” He pushes himself off the wall and turns away from you, “Always a fuckin’ joke to you.”

“Tommy, I thought… I’m sorry, I thought we were teasing--”

He rounds on you, “I don’t fuckin’ joke when it comes to you, do you understand? None of this is funny to me. It may be all a big joke to you with your fancy house and your upper class husband, but I lost the one thing in my life that had value and I don’t think it’s fuckin’ funny for you to shit all over the marriage that you thought was good enough to abandon me for in the first place!”

It’s all so absurd you nearly snort, “Do you think this is fun for me? Do you think I like living with the knowledge that I gave up the love of my life for someone who is rarely home, and when he is home doesn’t even spare me a second glance? My husband hasn’t kissed me in six months.”

“And so now you think you can have both?”

Tears shine in your eyes as you gaze up at him, “Can’t I?”

You can see the internal battle going on behind his eyes, caught between wanting you and not being able to truly have you. You knew he would give in to you, though, and maybe you felt a little guilty about that but you couldn’t afford to let your mind go there. You just needed someone to touch you, someone to really, truly desire you.

And Tommy gave in. He pushed you against the wall again, his mouth finding your mouth in a lust-filled frenzy. You moan in equal parts surprise and delight as his hands roam your body, pulling you up until your legs wrap around his waist, back firmly pressed to the wall.

You might pay for this sinful offense against your marriage one day, but today you will simply relish the way Tommy tastes.

***

“You’re quiet this morning.” Benjamin notes a week later during breakfast. “Actually, now that I think about it, I can’t remember the last time I heard you say a word. Is everything alright, darling?”

You look up from your plate where you had been pushing your egg around aimlessly and force a smile, “Everything is perfect, darling, why shouldn’t it be?”

He watches you closely for a moment, miles away on the opposite end of the dining table. You don’t believe he’s watched you like this since courting you. Then, in a flash, the moment is broken and he returns to his paper, “We should have dinner, just you and I. I have that business trip coming up and I’d like to spend some time with you before I go.”

You try not to narrow your eyes too deliberately at him. A proper lady never thinks too hard about her husband’s motives, she just acts delighted to be considered. But this was unlike him and you would find out why. “That would be lovely, dear.”

***

Your arm rests delicately on Benjamin’s as he takes you inside the restaurant he had made reservations in. He was going on and on about the lobster and how you should get one too and what drink to pair it with and it was all so fucking boring your eyelids grew heavy with sleep. You hadn’t seen Tommy since that day at the abandoned house.

Afterwards, he had taken you on the horse until you were a mile away from the house and insisted on being dropped there.

“I can take you further, he won’t see me.”

“It’s alright, Tommy. I like the walk.”

He had hopped off his horse with you and cradled your face in his hands, kissing you goodbye, “I’m still upset with you.” He said and kissed you again, harder. He bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to make you yelp, “This doesn’t change anything.”

But it changed everything, hadn’t it? For you, at least. You understood Tommy’s anger and resistance though. Maybe this would be the only taste of him he’d ever allow you again while you rotted away in that mansion of stone. “I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage, your foreheads still pressed together, before lightly pushing yourself off him and walking down the road without looking back.

Eventually, you heard his horse walk away and you did your best not to cry.

“Darling?” Benjamin’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. The two of you now sit at a small table in the corner. You’re buttering a roll absently, you couldn’t remember picking up the bread. “Darling, are you alright? I’ve been asking you to pass the butter.”

“Yes,” You said, reaching across the table with the butter dish in hand, “I’m sorry, my mind ran away from me.”

“And what were you thinking about?” He asks, taking the butter from you.

You blink, shocked that he would ask you such a thing, “Sorry?”

“What’s got your mind so occupied that I can’t seem to keep your attention?” He smiles when he says it and you realize he’s… teasing you.

“Oh, it’s nothing darling, I was just thinking about a dress I wanted to buy. I’m sorry that I wasn’t listening to you.”

He sighs greatly and for a moment you’re scared. Somehow he knows. He must know, otherwise-- “I realize that I haven’t been the best husband as of late. I don’t know what you spend your days doing, what you like, what you don’t like. I don’t kiss you in the morning or the evening when I come home from work--”

You’re shaking your head, “Benjamin--”

“You’ve been the perfect wife. Taking care of the house and entertaining guests, going out to the shop when I need something even if I haven’t asked. And I’ve ignored you. Aren’t you angry with me?”

Your eyes water and you sit back in your chair, looking down at your lap. Taking a breath you look back up at him, “You’re my husband.” You shrug, “I do what I must even if I don’t get anything in return.”

He hesitantly covers your hand with his own, “I’ll be better. I promise.” He sits back, “That friend that you went to lunch with the other day, what was her name?”

The fear returns all over again as you lightly dab at your eyes, “Martha, she’s a friend from Oxford.” The lie comes easily, too easily.

“Is she married?” Before you can answer, his eyes light up, “Oh! She must be that gentleman’s wife, the one who was at the party last week. Shelby, I believe his name was.”

Slowly, you nod, “Yes, that’s right. Martha’s husband is Thomas.”

“You should invite them for dinner, after my trip!”

Oh, fuck. “Oh, Benjamin, that’s so sweet of you dear, but you don’t have to--”

“I do.” He covers his hand with yours again, “I want to learn more about you. Your friends. What better way to do that than get to know the people you grew up with?”

You force a smile, “That sounds lovely.”

He smiles back, “It’s settled then! You iron out the details while I’m away and then just let me know which evening, alright, dear?”

“Of course.” You say, still forcing that smile. How the fuck were you going to get out of this one?

***

“Are you out of your mind?” You had summoned Tommy yet again by drinking at the Garrison and he had stormed in here ready to toss you over his shoulder and kick you out himself. But you had managed to get him to share a drink with you and you told him your new predicament.

“Well, yes, but that’s hardly the point.” He looks so annoyed with you, you almost laugh, “Please, Tommy. I’ll never bother you again.”

He snorts, “Yeah, that’ll be the day.” He knocks back the rest of his whiskey and then pushes the glass to the bartender, signaling for another, “This is really what you want?”

You bite your lip, “He seems sincere. Like he really wants to try.”

“But do you love him? Do you love him the way you love me?”

No. There would never be a love for you like Tommy. You look down at your hands. Either way you answer, Tommy will be hurt. But at least this way he could go on thinking that you’re happy. That you don’t need him. Maybe this way he’d fall in love with somebody else. The thought sent daggers through your heart, but you knew you had no one to blame for that but yourself. He should be happy, he deserved that. “Yes.” You lied.

His eyes shuttered and he looked away from you, “Alright. I’ll help you, then.”

You sigh in relief, “Thank you.”

“Now get the hell out of my bar.”

You manage a small smile and nod, sneaking out without another word.

***

The door buzzed and you nearly smiled, “That’ll be the guests, darling.” You moved behind Benjamin, squeezing his shoulder as you passed, “I’ll get it.”

When you opened the door and saw Tommy standing there with a tall, beautiful woman, you couldn’t deny the hurt that rushed through you. You had asked him to bring someone, you reminded yourself, you had told him he needed to bring a fake wife.

You step aside to let them through, “It’s good to see you, Tommy. Martha. Come in.”

“Your home is so lovely,” The woman said. You weren’t sure if you just felt like she was staring daggers at you or if she was. How much did this woman know of you and Tommy? Just from the way she looked at Tommy, you could tell she had feelings for him. He had probably fucked her at some point. You ignore the painful tightening of your stomach at the thought. Tommy, for his part, seemed bored by her.

“Thank you.” You gestured for the maid to take their coats and you couldn’t help the way your breath caught as Tommy took his off. Then his hat. And his gloves. Those hands and those rings and-- You looked from his left hand to hers. They were wearing wedding rings. You supposed it shouldn’t have surprised you, they were supposed to be married. But the sight painfully stole all the breath from your lungs. You wondered if this was how Tommy felt when he saw you. You turned away from it and guided them into the drawing room, immediately going to get a drink while Benjamin bored them with talk of business.

You didn’t expect for it to hurt so much, seeing him with someone else. Even if they were just fucking, you felt like you couldn’t breathe as you stumbled into the kitchen. The kitchen staff ignored you as you braced your hands on a table, looking down at it and trying to catch your breath. They were used to you having breakdowns here. The staff liked you because you treated them like people when Benjamin wasn’t around. When he was on his trips, you’d invite them all to eat with you in the dining room and they were some of the most fun dinners you’d had since marrying Benjamin. So they let you cry in here and didn’t speak a word of it.

When the kitchen doors open abruptly, you stand immediately, expecting Benjamin, but it’s Tommy who stands there instead. “What are you doing back here?” You asked with annoyance.

“Why are you crying?” He asks, and you hate the concern that floods his face.

“You shouldn’t be back here, Benjamin might come looking for me--”

“I told him I would go look for you, he seems quite charmed by Lizzie, he won’t come looking.”

“So her name’s Lizzie then? She’s lovely.”

He’s quiet a moment, “So you’re sulking in here because I brought another woman here, something you asked me to do.”

“I’m not sulking.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“We should go back out there,” You begin to walk around him, but his hand clasps on your upper arm and pulls you back.

“Does it hurt? Knowing I’m fucking someone else?” He whispers in your ear.

Tears sting your eyes and you realize he’s done this on purpose. He wanted to hurt you. You look up into those ice blue eyes to show him yours that are shining with tears, “Are you happy now?” You wrenched your arm from his grasp and left the kitchen, putting on a smiling face as you left.

Tommy watches you closely for most of the evening and you think that normally Benjamin might notice his predatory gaze, but Tommy was right. He’s enamored by Lizzie. They share touches and longing glances, even when you place your arm on top of Benjamin’s to signal that he’s yours. He just pats your hand and draws his arm out from under yours all without looking away from Lizzie. So when Tommy excuses himself for a smoke, you follow him out, not even bothering to excuse yourself.

“Ol’ Benjamin is really giving it his best shot with you, eh?” Tommy says immediately when you walk outside. You don’t say anything, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your anger. “Can’t say I blame him,” He continues, “Lizzie’s a great fuck.”

You close your eyes, “I know what you’re doing.”

“And what am I doing, love?” He makes the endearment sound condescending and you hate him for that.

“You’re trying to get me angry so I’ll admit that I lied to you about loving Benjamin.”

“I saw the way you looked at the wedding rings when I took off my gloves,” He inhales on the cigarette in his hand, “I don’t need you to say it.”

“Then what, you’re just rubbing it in because you’re a sadistic fuck?”

“So you are angry, then.”

“Yes!” You threw up your hands in exasperation, “Yes, I’m fucking angry that I thought maybe Benjamin did love me only to see him touch and look at that woman in there more than he’s touched me in over a year! And I’m fucking angry that you are also fucking her! I’m jealous, I’m fucking burning with how jealous I am that she gets to touch you and I don’t! Is that what you want to hear, you fucking prick?!”

God help you, he has a cool smile on his lips, “Yes, sweetheart. That’s what I wanted to hear. Would you like to go make your husband terribly jealous?” He reaches a hand out to you.

You’re frowning at him and you shake your head, “I don’t understand.”

“Sure you do, I’m helping you get what you want.”

“But why?”

He lowers his hand, “Do you want the truth or the lie?”

You swallow, “Truth.”

He brushes the back of his knuckles against your cheek, “Are you sure? It’ll break your heart.” He says softly.

You smile sadly and bring his hand to your chest, right above your heart. Your eyes glitter with unshed tears as you look at him, “Already broken.”

You almost miss his sharp intake of breath at your admission. You suppose he’s happy, happy that you were in so much pain after shattering his heart. “So?” You say.

“The truth is that,” He swallows, “The only thing that hurts me more than you not being mine is seeing you so fuckin’ sad. So let me help you.” You look up at him with those big sad eyes that practically scream at him how much you love him. He can’t stand to look another second, “Come on.” He offers you his hand again.

You place your small hand in his and he brings you back inside, not even dropping your hand as you pass your husband and Lizzie who are looking even cozier than when you left. He brings you to the drawing room in view of the dining room and finally drops your hand to go to the gramophone.

You feel Benjamin’s eyes on your back, but you don’t turn, focusing on Tommy.

A smile breaks out on his face, “I knew you’d have it.”

He holds up a record that the two of you used to listen to so often, you had had to replace the record a couple years back. A small smile forms on your lips, “Tommy, are you sure?”

When the two of you were together, you had taken a dance class together, mostly as a joke, but then you surprised yourselves when you had so much fun with it. Soon, you were choreographing dances together and Tommy was spinning you around that abandoned house. It seemed lifetimes ago and you couldn’t believe that the man who went to France and came back ready to kill any man standing in his way would still know or want to dance with you like when you were barely adults. But he’s beaming at you now, hand extended and the song is starting.

Biting your lip to hide your smile, you curtsy to him before taking his hand and he did a slight bow in response. And then he’s whisking you around the room. You can tell he hasn’t done this in a while and neither had you, but as the song picks up you lock eyes with him. You hadn’t seen him this happy since before the war. The sight sends such a thrill through you, you laugh, and suddenly you’re both in sync.

The weight of both Benjamin’s and Lizzie’s stares nearly break you, “It’s just me and you,” Tommy whispers, noticing how the light had dimmed from you just a little, “Focus on me.” And you do, losing yourself in the music and Tommy’s touch. Tommy dips you, your head falling back and upside down, you can see Benjamin and Lizzie, their eyes on you just like you thought. Tommy pulls you back up and you nearly crash into his chest as the song ends. He clutches your hand to him and your foreheads nearly touch as you both breathe hard.

There’s footsteps behind you and you turn to look to Benjamin, a smile still on your face, and his hand collides with your cheek. There’s only silence for a few seconds and it takes you all of those seconds to realize that Benjamin has hit you and before you’ve reached that conclusion, Tommy’s fist is already connecting with Benjamin’s jaw.

“Stop, stop.” You reach for Tommy to pull him off your husband, “Tommy, that’s enough!”

He had only punched Benjamin twice before you were able to pull him off and then he’s looking at you, “Are you alright?” There’s such concern in his eyes, he even brings his hands up to your face, eyes darting back and forth to assess the damage.

But your husband is still here so you push him away, “I’m fine, you should go.”

He’s looking at you like you’re crazy, “I won’t leave you with him.” He says quietly enough that you’re sure you’re the only one who heard him.

“Yes you will.” You look at him with cold, calculated calm. Your husband is still lying on the floor with stupid Lizzie coddling him, “You both should go.” You repeat.

Tommy is still staring at you and Lizzie has risen from where she was crouching next to your husband, placing a hand on Tommy’s arm, “Thomas, let’s go.”

You hate the familiarity of the touch, you’re able to tell she’s done it several times before. “Listen to your wife.” You say bitterly and that ice in his eyes is back. He simply backs away from you, Lizzie pulling him out the door.

“You humiliate me.” Benjamin says, now sitting upright and dabbing at blood at the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. It gives you sick satisfaction that Tommy had made him bleed.

“You humiliate yourself.” You say coldly.

“You danced with him like… Like you were some whore.”

You flinch at the insult, “I told you I knew him from Oxford, we took ballroom together. We were simply reminiscing.”

“You think me an imbecile,” He chuckles, “I saw the way you looked at each other. You’ve never once looked at me like that.”

Now you laugh and the sound makes him flinch, “Benjamin, when we met I looked at you like the sun and the moon set on your command, do not insinuate otherwise.” Your voice shakes with anger, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to touch and talk to me the way you talked to Tommy's wife all goddamn night. That’s why I danced with him. I wanted to make you jealous, I didn’t think you’d hit me.”

He’s shaking his head, “That doesn’t change the fact that you once bedded that man and then brought him into my house.”

You stare at him blankly, “If I recall correctly, you were the one who invited him here. And I daresay, Benjamin, with the way you were with his wife I have no doubt what you do on those business trips. I will not be made the villain when all I’ve done is begged for your love from day one.” He looks away from you at that and you relish how you’ve made him submit to you after being submissive for so long, “I’m going to bed, you’re welcome to wallow here in your weakness if you’d like.”

***

Tommy drives in silence with Lizzie next to him, quietly fuming. He has half a mind to turn around and drag you from that house himself, but he knew you’d never forgive him for that. “Was a bit daft to dance with her like that in front of her husband, don’t you think, Tom?”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, the only indication of his agitation, “Was a bit daft to flirt with her husband in front of her for three straight hours, don’t you think, Lizzie?”

“He advanced on me--”

“No,” Tommy’s shaking his head, “No, don’t give me that bullshit. You knew what she meant to me and you went in there to purposely hurt her. Well congratu-fucking-lations Lizzie, you won.”

“As if you didn’t enjoy seeing her hurting after she left you.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t know.” He said dangerously.

“Fine, Tommy,” She says, slumping in her seat and crossing her arms over her chest, “Let her destroy you again, went so well for you the first time.”

He doesn’t respond as he knows there is some truth to what Lizzie is saying. He would let you destroy him again, he would give you his last breath if that was what you wanted.

***

When you wake the next morning, Benjamin is gone. The maid told you he left in the early hours of the morning and handed you a note.

I know what he is and I know what you are. Don’t be here when I return.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Who had told him? How had he figured it out?

The answer was obvious. It had to have been fucking Thomas, trying to force your hand after you refused to leave with him. You crumpled the note and ran back upstairs to get dressed. You figured you had a few days until Benjamin came home, maybe you could still sort it out. The first order of business was going to yell at Tommy.

***

When he sees you walking down the streets of Small Heath looking murderous, he wonders what he’s done. Maybe this is a response to the previous night, but you hadn’t seemed homicidal when he left you.

“What the fuck did you tell him?” You greeted him by shoving him against the nearest building. He raised his arms in bored surrender, not wanting to cause a scene, but you didn’t seem to care about that, “Did you turn around and come back and tell him everything? Do you think I’ll run off with you now that I have nowhere to go?” Tears run down your cheeks now and he frowns in concern, “Well I won’t. I’m fucking done with you, Thomas Shelby. I don’t care if I have to beg on the streets--”

“What are you talking about?” He interjects finally. You look him over, eyes darting over his face and you can see there’s genuine confusion there. He didn’t do this.

Rubbing at your eyes, you sit on the nearest surface, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay, “He knows who you are. Which means he knows who I am. He’s kicking me out.”

He gently puts a hand on your elbow, “Come inside. Please.”

For once, you let yourself be guided. He brings you inside the building that says Shelby Company Limited on the outside and then suddenly the rest of the Shelby family is staring at you.

“Tommy,” Polly says softly, staring at you with a hand on her heart, “You told us she was dead.”

You blink and then turn to Tommy who won’t look at any of you, “She was.”

Tommy Shelby had told his whole family that you were dead rather than go through the humiliation of explaining that you had left your old life behind in favor of another. Left him behind. You supposed, in a way, you had died.

Polly’s gaze drifts to your hand where you’re fiddling with your wedding ring. “Oh, Tommy. Tell me you haven’t killed someone’s husband.”

“Not yet,” The words send a jolt through you, “Stay here.” He orders, squeezing your shoulder.

“Tommy, wait,” He turns back to you, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to kill him before he ruins you and then you’ll have your pick of any lord you’d like. Maybe one of them will actually love you this time. Isn’t that what you want?”

It feels like a dig though you’re not sure he meant it to be one, “No.”

Sensing the energy in the room, the rest of Tommy’s family dispersed, leaving the two of you alone.

“What d’ya mean ‘no’?” There’s a bit of anger in his voice, “You don’t want to be with me, you don’t want to be a lady anymore, are you gonna live on the streets?”

“For your information, Thomas, if I wanted I could make a living for myself,” He scoffs. “But you’re wrong.”

“About what?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes glittering with tears, “I do want to be with you.” After finally uttering the words, you brace yourself for rejection.

He stares at you and then rubs a hand over his face. He begins shaking his head, “You don’t mean that.”

You walk to him and reach your hands up to frame his face. You expect him to move away from your touch, but he doesn’t. When you gently stroke his face with your thumbs he closes his eyes and you truly understand how you had broken this man in front of you, “I do,” You say again, “And I’m sorry for ever making you think you didn’t deserve me.”

Finally, he does push your hands away and walks to the window on the far side of the room, his back to you, “I still want to kill him.” He says softly.

You frown, “Tommy--”

“If you weren’t in that room last night I would have kept punching and kicking and gouging his eyes out with my bare hands for daring to put a hand on you.” His voice is dangerously low, “Is that still the kind of man that you want?” He finishes bitterly.

He would kill a man for you. The thought sends a thrill through you. “I’ve spent the last few years of my life with a man who didn’t even attempt to learn my favorite type of jam, Tommy, do you understand?”

“It’s strawberry.”

You raise your eyebrows, “What?”

He finally turns to you, “Your favorite jam, it’s strawberry. I used to wait in line for hours in the summer when strawberries were in season to get some for you.” He smiles a bit to himself at the memory, “It was always worth it for the smile and kiss on the cheek you gave me.”

Tears finally cascade down your cheeks as you recall the memory, “I’d forgotten about that.” You say softly, “Tommy, it’s me who doesn’t deserve you.”

“You told me minutes ago that you wouldn’t run off with me, that you were done--”

“I know,” You say, “That’s when I thought you had betrayed me, that you wanted to force me to be with you--”

“I would never force you to be with me.” He says fiercely, “I would never force this life, this fuckin’ hell, on anyone.”

You shake your head, “I know what you’ve become since you came home. Knowing all of that, knowing what you’re truly capable of, I still choose you. I know you’re my only chance of real happiness.”

He stares at you for another few moments, “So you’ll marry me, then? The whole bit?”

You smile, “I imagined this whole bit to be much more romantic, but yes, I’ll marry you, Thomas.”

“You can’t change your mind once Benjamin comes back, it’s me or you figure out your own way.”

“I’m not choosing you because of the money. I’ve had the money, all it did was make me miserable.”

He steps to you and runs a thumb over your lips, “You’re really mine then, eh?”

“You know,” Familiar mischief lights up your eyes, “Benjamin won’t be back for a few days… What do you say we drink his expensive wine straight from the bottle and fuck on every surface we can.”

Tommy finally cracks a smile, “God, I fuckin’ love you.”

You laugh and go up on your toes to kiss him. He immediately dips his head to you, breathing you in deep as he kisses you. His tongue slides along your lip until you open to him, awarding him with a soft moan. His tongue strokes against yours and you feel hot need for him pooling between your thighs when he pulls away.

He relishes the pout on your face at his absence, “Save it for Benjamin’s bed, princess.” He smirks and tugs you out of the building, lifting you onto your horse. And as he rides, your arms wrapped around his waist, you only wish you had had the wisdom to choose Tommy Shelby first.

[babbushka]

number 33 on the sfw prompts with flip would be so cute!!

1.5k, no warnings, just bickering married couple fluff!

It’s a gorgeous Spring day in your slice of paradise that is Colorado. The sun is shining, the sky a powdery blue, there’s a gentle breeze that makes all the tall grasses and wildflowers sway, and the birds chirp a melody that you can’t help but whistle along to. It’s one of Flip’s rare days off, an attempt by the CSPD trying to balance the amount of overtime he gets from his long cases, and he’s decided the day should be spent outdoors. You don’t blame him, he’s a mountain man after all, and he can only be cooped up inside his stuffy office for so long.

So you’re reading one of your books outside on a large picnic blanket in the backyard of your big house tucked away in the mountains, peeking up now and again as your husband steadies himself for a moment or two before firing at the target he’s set up way on the other side of the property. He fires, and you don’t even need to look to know he’s shot a bullseye. Clapping for him, because you know he likes to hear it, you can’t help but smile fondly.

Flip subtly sneaks a peek at you, trying his best to not look like he’s desperate for your praise and approval, but then he sees you stealing a sneak at him, and he lets out a deep rumbling chuckle that has you raising an eyebrow and asking, “What’s so funny?”

You set your book down when he shrugs one of his shoulders, a cheeky smirk tugging one of the corners of his mouth, making those dimples of his that you adore appear. He adjusts something on his rifle, fiddling with the new scope you got him for his birthday that just passed, and smiles to himself, shy and cocky at the same time, if such a thing were possible.

“It’s just strange to think that this is my life, that’s all.” He raises the scope back up to his eye, positions himself properly, and you both hold your breath for the moment that he fires, listening to the sound of the bullet whipping through the air and tearing through the target.

“Good strange? Or bad?” You ask when he puts the rifle back down, throws another one of his charming smiles your way.

“Good.” He nods, says it so stoic and deadpan that if you hadn’t been married to him for as long as you have, you’d think he’s being sarcastic. “Definitely good. Feels like a fuckin’ dream sometimes.”

He sets up the rifle again, carefully, stoic, and takes another shot. The breeze must have knocked that one a little off center, because Flip’s clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth the way that he does when he’s annoyed by something.

“Example.” You smile, propping yourself up on your side, your head resting on your hand where your elbow is bent and set atop the plush blanket.

“Marrying you. No fucking clue why or how you said yes.” Flip’s decided it’s time for a cigarette break, or at least that’s what he tells himself when he walks with his bowlegs on over to you, setting the safety on the rifle and leaving it over in the grass where it can’t be an issue. “I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror. I never thought I’d get this far.”

“You were something of a nervous wreck back then, weren’t you?” You open your arms for him, a teasing playful wink crinkling the corner of your eye, “In your own special way.”

“Don’t bully me.” Flip immediately settles himself down on the big blanket next to you, lights up a cigarette and pulls you into his arms, sucking down the nicotine as fast as he can while you chuckle at him. He pinches your nose and gives your face a shake, mesmerized by the sound of your laugh. “I was young and you were the most beautiful fuckin’ woman I’d ever seen. Still are.”

Sunlight dapples through the leaves of the shady tree you’ve set the blanket down next to, and all Flip can do is stare at you. Sometimes it’s all he can ever do, too in love with you to come up with the words to say just how he feels. Thankfully, you only tug on his ear sweetly, and sigh out happily.

“I wanted you to let me wear your ring so damn bad, Flip, you don’t even know.” You chuckle to yourself, and he does, he knows now. Maybe not back then when he was stupid and oblivious, but now he knows.

“You’ve got one now.” Flip snatches your hand up and presses a kiss to the big diamond right there on your ring finger, the one he worked for so long and so hard to save up and buy you, not wanting to settle for anything less than the best.

“Damn right I do.” You grin, rolling away from him just far enough to lay on your back and look up at the fluffy white clouds that pass along the sky, off to who knows where. “I’m the one living the dream here. Handsome strong husband, beautiful house, money to burn, happy healthy kids? What more could a girl want?”

Flip joins you, the two of you lying side by side on the blanket, pointing up at clouds and announcing what you think they look like. He could lay here forever, Flip thinks to himself as he watches the way the clouds cover the sun now and again, watches as your face gets more illuminated and then less, you squinting against the rays of light with a big happy grin.

He dips down to kiss you, deeply for a moment, sighing against your tongue in his own happy lazy way, before he pushes himself away from you, and goes back to his spot on the grass where he picks up the gun and resumes his target practice. He’s got to keep his skills sharp, after all, especially with hunting season coming up.

“Bullseye.” He says aloud after hitting three more rounds of yet another perfect target, before turning around and putting his hand on his hip, “What, no applause?”

“You’re an idiot.” You laugh, before clapping and even giving him a whistle or two for his trouble, and he bites away his grin, clicking the safety back on his rifle and making a beeline straight for you.

“Oh yeah?” He scoffs, and now you’re up off the blanket and running away from him as your laughter is carried by the breeze, and he’s chasing you down towards the fields of wildflowers that sit on the outskirts of your property, “Take it back -- c’mere -- !”

“Phil! For fuck’s sake -- ah!” You laugh and laugh as he runs after you, letting out a little shout of surprise when he manages to wrap his arms around you and hoists you over his shoulder, your stomach swooping from being upside down. He really was a lumberjack, wasn’t he? You laugh and smack against his back, and he only smacks at your ass in response.

Flip does this sometimes, when he’s in a playful mood like this, he’ll just snatch you up and tote you around, parading you through the house. He didn’t do it so much when you were pregnant, because he was mostly too afraid of hurting the baby, but the babies have long been born now, and this mock-wrestling that you do together can resume, and Flip’s going to take every opportunity to do just that.

It’s a perfect day for it too, he figures, not too hot, not too cold, not rainy or too windy. He’ll keep you outside for as long as he can manage, because dammit the opportunity to see you out in the splendor of nature like this only comes around every so often. So you don’t complain too much when he wrinkles your dress, or accidentally kicks off one of your shoes that you’ll make him go find, because even when he’s scowling and his brow is furrowed in the way that it is, there’s a sparkle in his eye that you wouldn’t dare put out.

Back at the blanket, he dumps you onto it with a thud, and you swat at his thigh for the trouble, winded and so so so in love. He crowds your body against the trunk of the shady tree with his own, caging you between his arms, and you roll your eyes as your arms slink around his shoulders, lightly panting from all the running as you rub your nose against his own.

“You are one sharp shooter, Mr. Zimmerman.” You say teasingly, your lips ghosting over his.

“That’s better.” Satisfied for the moment, Flip indulges in the warmth of your sun-drenched body, kissing you beneath the big tree, and he figures he doesn’t mind all the time cooped up in the office if it means he gets days like these.

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

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Tagging some Flip lovin' friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | three

A/N: Thanks again for your positive feedback on this mini-series!  Please keep those canon questions coming as you guys know I loooove answering them to help build the canon!  This one is a short one but it will be made up for by the last two chapters.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                                 *     *     *     *     *

Brock and Grace were having fun.  Actual, genuine, real fun.  Whenever they were together, they were smiling and laughing and kissing and having a good time.  They’d go out to eat at Vancouver’s best restaurants.  They’d take walks in parks or along the seawall.  They’d get coffee at cute little cafés and munch on bespoke cookies or donuts that would make Brock complain about extra hours in the gym.  They’d invite Elias and Svea with them and it would be great, because they were great, and they’d all just be constantly laughing.  Grace and Svea got closer – much closer.  Elias and Brock were tearing it up for the Canucks.  Grace and Svea would go to bars for a glass of wine before going to games together.  They’d cheer and clap and sing along with all the songs being blasted throughout the arena.

Fun.  Life was fun.  

***

“How do I bite it?!” Brock was incredulous at the size of the cupcake Grace got him.  It was bigger than his jaw could open.  Elias and Svea were already ready with their damn phones to film him.  “I can’t…” he tried to bring it up to his mouth.

“Just put the whole thing in your mouth!” Grace exclaimed.

“That’s what she said,” Elias mumbled, only to garner a disapproving mother look from Brock and a slap on the arm from Svea.  “What!  Isn’t that the joke?!”

“Don’t be crass,” Svea chastised before focusing her attention back on Brock.  “Just bite the thing, Brock.  Just…just stuff it in there,” he pretended to do the motion herself.

“Again, that’s what she said.”

Grace hit Elias too this time.  

***

“You can get us reservations to Hawksworth?” Svea asked in shock.  

Grace nodded casually, like it was the easiest thing in the world to get a reservation at Vancouver’s best and most exclusive restaurant.  “The Gillespie’s own the Rosewood Hotel Georgia.”

“You do?”

Grace nodded again before sucking back on an oyster.  “When do you want to eat there?”

“Oh, I – I don’t know.  Can I get back to you?”

“Of course!  Just let me know.”

“Wow Grace,” Svea said.  “You really do have the world at your fingertips.  Vancouver especially.”

Grace shrugged her shoulders.  “It’s a blessing and a curse.  I can’t go anywhere without running into someone that knows my dad or knows who I am and thinks they know me.  It’s even worse when they knew my dad a long time ago and only ask about how he’s doing with his Parkinson’s now.  Most of the time they don’t even truly care.  And I’d trade it all in, every single penny, if it meant my dad never got Parkinson’s.”

Svea couldn’t imagine living that kind of life.  She didn’t know how Grace did it – or Brock, for that matter.  She would be a sobbing mess on the floor every single day.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to be insensitive when I—”

“Oh God no.  No no no – you don’t need to apologize.  I just…” Grace paused, trying to collect her thoughts.  “I know how fortunate I am, believe me.  I just don’t think people know that – that I know I’m fortunate.  But Parkinson’s – any chronic illness – it really humbles you.  Most people don’t know what that’s like.  And like, thank God they don’t.  But they think they know.”

All Svea could do was nod her head and listen.

***

Whenever Brock sent a text that said ‘come over and watch a movie’ Grace knew what that really meant.  But instead of finding it lewd, she’d slather on some raspberry chapstick and be on her merry way to Brock’s apartment.

When they were done, and lying in bed together, with her head on his chest and her hair sprawled everywhere, that’s when the talking would begin.  “How’s your dad doing?”  “Are the new round of meds working?”  “Is he having more trouble getting up now?”  “What are the doctors saying?”  “How’s his memory?”  “How’s the swallowing?”  “Are the doctors recommending speech therapy?”  

“When I quit dance, my dad was so disappointed,” Grace revealed one night as Brock was running his hands through her hair.  “It was the only thing I was ever really, really good at.  I wasn’t the best in school.  I just didn’t get things the way other kids did.  And when I told him the reason, he made me promise I’d keep doing dance in some capacity.  I maybe wouldn’t do it super-competitively anymore with him driving me all around BC and flying me all over Canada and the US to attend competitions, but I’d still do it.  That’s why I teach at the Goh Ballet.  Like…I know I’m not the smartest girl in the world, but I like to think I have a big heart.  And I just hope that people see that.”

“I wear number six because it was my dad’s number,” Brock revealed too, one night when they were alone.  “I wanted…I wanted to make sure that if he wasn’t around, my career would still honour him in some way.  I want that to be my legacy…like, everything I do, I do for my dad.”

Grace nodded.  She completely understood.  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who knows and understands exactly what I’m going through,” she said.  “Do you think it was fate that brought us together at that meeting?”

Brock found himself nodding his head automatically.  “Of course,” he said softly.

***

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have you at the house for dinner, Brock, but our chef is on vacation,” Eliza Carmichael, Grace’s mom, smiled from across the table as she sipped on her glass of wine.  From beside her, her husband, Grace’s step-dad James kept perusing the menu, as did Grace’s two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo, who were seated at opposite heads of the table.  

“Oh that’s no problem at all,” he smiled politely, grabbing Grace’s hand underneath the table and squeezing it gently before putting it in his lap.  “I actually come here with the boys sometimes.  The food here is amazing.”

“It is, isn’t it?  James knows the head chef,” she said.  “Grace tells me you’re a hockey player.”

It was at that point that James put down his menu.  “Honey, he plays for the Vancouver Canucks.  We’ve been over this.”

Eliza rolled her eyes playfully before picking up her menu.  It was only at that point that Brock noticed the giant rock on her finger.  It was the size of his eyeball.  “Grace tells me you live in Shaughnessy,” he said, trying to make polite conversation.  “I hear that’s a beautiful neighbourhood.”

“Oh, it is.  Perfect place for the quiet life hockey player’s lead,” James joked.  Brock forced out a chuckle.

***

“I love this song!!!” Grace exclaimed as the DJ began to play some old school Rihanna.  She downed the rest of her drink and slapped the glass against the bar before grabbing Brock’s arm with one hand and Svea’s hand with the other, knowing that Svea would, on instinct, grab Elias’s arm and drag him to the dance floor too.

The club was completely unstuffy.  There were no girls dressed to the nines, no four-inch stiletto heels digging into Grace’s feet, no people showing up just to be seen in booths with bottle service.  It was completely unpretentious and that’s how Grace liked it.  Considering her lifestyle and her wealth, it was actually how she liked everything.  So when the DJ began playing pop songs, she couldn’t help but start dancing uncontrollably.  To his credit, Brock did too.  It was like he lost all his inhibitions and began moving his body in tune with the music.  Even Elias and Svea did, and Grace knew how…well, quiet they were.  This wasn’t their scene at all but they were having the time of their life dancing with each other, spinning each other around and moving to the beat of the music.  

For at least a night, Grace could forget.  She could forget how her parents used her to get back at one another during an awful divorce.  She could forget her mom re-married an equally as nice guy as her dad but became more pretentious as the years went on and the wealth accumulated.  She could forget that she made the decision to quit dancing professionally.  She could forget her dad had Parkinson’s.  For one night, everything was perfect.  Everything was fun.  Everything was how it should be.

***

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Brock groaned as he watched Grace climb on top of him, leaning forward so she could press his breasts up against his face.  He immediately took the opportunity to place wet, open mouth kisses all over her breasts, kissing down to her nipples before taking them in his mouth.  He could feel her grab his cock and lower herself onto it, sighing at the feeling of him filling her up.  “Feel good?”

“You always feel amazing,” she smiled, her hair falling around her face.  “That’s why I can’t stop fucking you.”

Brock chuckled, a cocky smile on his face as he reached up and brought Grace’s face down so he could kiss her and stick his tongue down her throat.  “Ride me, baby,” he mumbled against her lips.

Grace began rocking her hips back and forth, her body moving so expertly and so in tune with Brock’s.  Almost immediately, she began to moan, and Brock grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers so she’d have something to brace against.  Brock was in a trance – as he usually was when Grace was riding.  He was completely and utterly transfixed by her in every sense of the word, and in every way; from the hair on her head to the red nail polish on her toes.  

“God, I fucking love you, Grace.”

The words had barely escape Brock’s mouth before he realized the magnitude of what he said, how he said it, and when he’d fucking said it.  God, he was such a fucking idiot!!!!!  During sex?!  Really?!  Way to live the cliché Brock Boeser!  Way to be a fucking idiot and—

“I fucking love you too, Brock,” he heard Grace say, a smile adorned on her face.  The both of them giggled, and couldn’t stop giggling for a while even though she was still riding him.  It was miraculous.  “Way to say it for the first time while I’m riding you,” she joked.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he said.  

“You’re lucky I love you, because that’s such an amateur move, Brock.”

[edie-k]

Greener Pastures (Lavender Brown/Mystery Character, Romione, Hinny, Deamus, PG-13)

Title: Greener Pastures

Pairing: Lavender Brown/Mystery Character, Romione, Hinny, Deamus, Past Lavender/Ron, Past Lavender/Seamus

Rating: PG-13 for language

Summary: At Harry and Ginny's engagement party, Lavender bemoans her single status to a mystery man.

Author's Note: Well, here's an obscure ship for you. Thanks to @adenei for her feedback and kind words!

*************

“I think that proves that for all the complaining I’ve done, Harry, I mean it when I say you are the only one I thought was good enough for my sister,” Ron said from the front of the room, to a chorus of laughter. “So let’s raise a glass to the newly engaged couple!”

From her seat at the bar, Lavender made a face and threw back the remaining contents of her tumblr. Parvati, who was seated next to her, joined the crowd in applauding and cheering Harry and Ginny.

Click below to read more or read at AO3

“That was a nice speech,” commented Parvati.

“Oh, just the best,” muttered Lavender, trying to catch the bartender’s eye.

Parvati shook her head. “I just spotted Adam’s sister. I wanted to ask her about what the expectations are for dress code and stuff at his grandmother’s. All Adam said when I asked him was ‘Whatever’s fine.’ We’re going abroad to meet an entire side of your family I have never met in all the time we’ve been together and you’re telling me whatever is fine.”

“Mmm hmm,” Lavender said, still trying to signal for a drink.

“Are you going to be okay if I-”

“Yes, yes,” said Lavender, sighing. “I’m fine. Sorry if I’m being a drag. Just… that news earlier and then all this… happiness. Go get the dish from Mara so we can go shopping tomorrow.”

Parvati squeezed her friend’s arm before hopping off the stool and wading through the crowd to find Mara. The bartender finally made his way over to her and began to mix her another drink without a word.

At least Adam was out of town on business for the weekend so Lavender didn’t have to third wheel with her best friend and her boyfriend. Because that would have been the only thing more depressing than going to an engagement party with your platonic best friend.

The bartender nudged the glass back to her and she nodded her head in thanks as he made his way back down the bar.

“Is this seat taken?”

Lavender glanced up and met the gaze of a man she’d never seen before.

“Uh, no, be my guest,” she said. “Although be warned that I am shitty company.”

The man chuckled as he sat down on the stool. “I highly doubt that but I’m game to find out.”

Lavender looked at him again. She didn’t recognize him, which was shocking because even though the venue was full, Lavender had thought she would know everyone here. Harry and Ginny were obviously incredibly popular so they had kept tight controls on who was included on the guest list.

The man signaled for the bartender and Lavender took the opportunity to give him a once over. The guy was huge - not in an overweight or bodybuilder type way. He was just tall and solid. Other than her first boyfriend, her preference was tall guys. She was 5”8’ herself and preferred to wear heels when she could so aesthetically, it was nice for her companion to have some height. Nice eyes, cute face. He had dark blond hair and was dressed in a dark blue Muggle button down shirt and black trousers with no robes. Since the war had ended, Muggle style had become popular with the wizards in her age group. Harry, who was raised by Muggles, was always more comfortable in that style of clothing and Ron, who she knew was dressed primarily by Hermione and Hermione’s mum, followed suit. And whatever that little Trio did, everyone else did and for Merlin’s sake, Ron Weasley was now a fucking fashion icon. Lavender took a big swig of her drink.

“It’s a nice party,” said the man. Lavender nodded as the bartender approached. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.”

The bartender made another drink before placing it in front of the man. He went to reach for his pocket when Lavender noticed a look of panic cross his face. Before she could say anything, the bartender waved him away. “Mr. Potter has the tab covered tonight.”

“Well,” he said, his face relaxed again. He turned back to Lavender. “Should we follow Red’s instructions and toast the happy couple?” The two clinked glasses. “It was a nice speech.”

Lavender snorted.

“You disagree?”

“I’d have thought his wife wrote it for him but there was too much swearing for her to have had a hand,” Lavender said. Then she wiped the palms of her hands down her face. “Ugh, ignore me. It actually was a very touching and funny speech. I’m just in an ugly mood and I have a bit of a history with Ron so I’m being mean for no reason.”

“You dated him?” the man guessed. She nodded. “Huh, he said in the speech that he’d loved his wife since he was 13.”

“And I dated him when we were 16 so…”

“Hence the ugliness,” finished the man.

“Hence the ugliness,” Lavender repeated. “I’m over it, really. Hermione and I shared a room for six years and are better friends now than we ever were at school. As for Ron, that was just some stupid school kid bullshit on both our parts. It’s more that I didn’t realize that my only opportunity to find love was going to be at Hogwarts. If I had known that, I’d have made better choices or… maybe taken Arithmancy to secure a better paying job to support my lonely life.”

“What do you mean?” the man asked.

“Everyone I know, they’re married or engaged or about to be engaged to the person that they dated at Hogwarts. Harry and Ginny dated at school, Neville and Hannah somehow started to date during our last year during the war. My best friend Parvati and her boyfriend dated our sixth year at Hogwarts and then he fled with his Muggle family overseas but they started right back up again when he came back to England. See that girl over there, the pregnant one?”

The man nodded.

“That’s Parvati’s sister. That’s her second kid cooking. She’s married to her prefect partner, Anthony. I guess technically, Ron and Hermione didn’t date at Hogwarts but -”

“He’s loved her since he was 13,” the man said amused.

“Yeah. I’m the only one that couldn’t make it out with a relationship intact.” she moaned, taking another drink.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Lavender took another long drink and contemplated his statement. “You know what? You’re right. Ginny, she also had a relationship that didn’t work out. Do you see that tall bloke over in the corner that she’s talking to?”

The man glanced in the direction Lavender was referring to. “Uh, yeah.”

“That’s Dean. He was the guy that Ginny dated before Harry. Now, do you see that cute little Irishman standing next to Dean?”

The man nodded.

“That’s Seamus. He was my ex-boyfriend before Ron. And now he’s Dean’s husband. Met in school, by the way.”

“Oh,” said the man, taken aback.

Lavender narrowed her eyes. “Do you have a problem with that? Because despite the fact that Seamus is just one more example of my inability to keep a boyfriend, I will defend those men and their amazing relationship to the death from any bigot that threatens it.”

“No, no!” the man sputtered. “I’m just… I went to an all-boys school and I knew gay guys but they all hid it and I’m just not used to people being open about it. It’s fine - more than fine. Good for them! I mean, hey, they found each other and are leaving more beautiful women for the rest of us, right?”

“Merlin, I wish I could find a beautiful woman,” Lavender moaned, burying her face in her hands. The bartender seemed to take this as a signal that she needed another drink and provided her with a refill.

“Oh, are you… interested in women?” she heard him ask.

“No,” she moaned. “You must think I’m insane.” Lavender put both her hands on the man’s arm that was closest to her. “I promise that I am not hung up on some school romance from five years ago. It’s just that, if you knew Seamus or Ron at Hogwarts… did you know Seamus or Ron at Hogwarts?”

The man shook his head.

“Okay, so if you knew them, you would know that they were both totally immature prats. After I broke up with Seamus, I thought he was the worst boyfriend ever. He was always running off to spend time with his mates, talking about Quidditch, no interest in spending time with me, dumb jokes. But then, then I dated Ron, who was even worse than him. The only thing he wanted to do with me was snog and I think that was some weird power move with Hermione or his sister… who knows. I have to be way more drunk to psychoanalyze Ron Weasley. Anyway, the last month we were together, he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he wanted to ditch me for Hermione but was just too much of a coward. And yet somehow, both of those idiots ended up married before me! And it’s not like they got married to some random person that they knocked up after a one night stand. Ron eloped with his wonderful, talented, brilliant best friend that he was in love with all through school and the entire time we were dating and Seamus… oh for Godric’s sake.”

Lavender paused in her tirade for a moment. “Seamus also married his wonderful, talented, brilliant best friend that he was probably in love with all through school AND the entire time we were dating. How am I just realizing that?” Lavender groaned, banging her head on the bar.

“Can wizards knock up other wizards?” asked the man. Lavender looked up at him and burst into laughter.

“Oh, thank you for that,” she giggled. “I was spiralling.”

“Uh, yeah, no worries,” said the man, shifting in his seat.

“It’s just that this dating stuff is really hard. The wizarding world is so small, you know? I think it’s why everyone locks in with their soulmate at school, ” Lavender commiserated.

“Have you ever considered dating like, outside the wizarding world?” the man asked.

Lavender shook her head. “How could I? It’s tough enough here. After all the Prophet spotlights on battle injuries and such, everyone knows how I got all these awful scars on my face but it still takes a certain type of man to look past them. And I’m sure there are Muggles that aren't shallow about them either but they would ask how I got them. How would I explain them to a Muggle? I can’t just say ‘Oh during a war at my school, a werewolf tried to rip me to shreds. But don’t worry, I’m not a werewolf although I have some side effects from it.’ They’d think I was insane.”

“Uh, yeah, that does sound a bit… daunting,” the man admitted, looking a bit pale.

“I mean, I’m still a catch. I’m funny, I have a great rack, I make excellent scones, and I’m amazing in bed.” At that comment, she heard the man next to her choke a little and she stifled a smile to continue on. “And even if I could get away with not explaining it to a man, once I meet his family, there’s no way. In my experience, mothers are always trying to find a reason to hate the woman that’s dating their special baby boy. I can’t imagine a Muggle mother taking very kindly to a literal witch with werewolf scars.”

“Yes,” sighed the man before giving a little chuckle. “I can certainly see that. And with all of the, you know, war stuff, I can see where you wish you had a school sweetheart.”

Lavender shook her head and drained the rest of her drink. “Seamus and Ron are just easy targets. I really am not hung up on them. This is about Don.”

“Who’s Don?”

“Don is my last boyfriend. We dated exclusively for eight months and he was so fun and thoughtful and generous. But he never said I love you. He kept telling me that he was too young to settle down and, I believed that he thought that. I really did. So we split in December because we wanted different things.”

“Ah,” said the man. “Seems sensible.”

“And then this morning, I see it in The Daily Prophet.”

“See what?”

“His engagement announcement,” she wailed, throwing herself on the bar again and almost upsetting her glass.

The man patted her on the shoulder. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”

“Do you know how long they’ve been dating?” Lavender asked.

“Eight months?” ventured the man.

“FIVE!” Lavender cried.

“Maybe he knocked her up?” suggested the man.

Lavender looked up at him and burst into laughter again. “Merlin, you’re funny. Why am I whinging about all these dolts I’ve surrounded myself with when I should get to know you better?”

“Yeah?” said the man with a grin.

“Yes,” she said. “I mean, if you want-”

“Of course,” he interrupted. “A funny, beautiful woman wants to get to know me better - the answer is always yes. I do need a refill. Do you want one? You’re not driving home, are you?”

Lavender giggled.

The man shook his head and looked embarrassed. “Oh, right, you wouldn’t be driving. You would uh - ”

“You must be a Muggle born. Do- I mean, I’ve heard others say that before. Those habits die hard.”

“Actually,” the man took a deep breath. “I’m a Muggle.”

Lavender’s jaw dropped. “How the fuck does a Muggle get invited to the engagement party of the Chosen One and a pureblood Quidditch player?”

“Well, Harry’s my cousin,” the man said. “My name’s Dudley.”

***************

“Do you see that over there?” asked Hermione, nudging Ron. He turned away from his conversation with Neville and Charlie to see what his wife was gesturing to across the room.

“Is that Dudley Dursley chatting up Lavender?” Ron asked, as his eyes landed on the sight before him.

“It appears to be,” said Hermione. “Merlin, they are really flirting. Should we go over there and say something? A warning or...?”

“Right,” said Ron. “Absolutely we should. Which one of them are we warning?”

[charkyzombicorn]

What did I walk in on?? Part 2

Kiribakudeku soulmate au

Part one HERE

Eijirou tried to work out the situation, he really did. From what Izuku and Katsuki would tell him, the two have known eachother since they were toddlers. He also knew that Izuku never looked him in the eye when he talked about Katsuki and Katsuki didn't seem to like Izuku.

All in all, it was a Mina-approved shitshow.

Without really knowing what to do, he tried to make friends. He unconsciously gravitated toward Katsuki, though, Izuku didn't really talk much and what he did say was nervous and second-guessing. By the end of the day, he had acquired a nickname from his soulmate. 'Shitty hair' wasn't exactly peak romantic but he guessed it was better than Deku, or maybe Deku had a good meaning, seeing as Uraraka started calling him that.

He started calling Katsuki 'Bakubro', and seeing as he wasn't exploded, he thought it was an acceptable nickname.

Day two was...interesting, to say te least.

Training was a heroes vs villains exercise, and Eijirou got a sinking feeling in his gut when he saw his two soulmate's names on opposite teams, pitted against eachother. He shifted uncomfortably at the glare Katsuki shot at Izuku before they went out of the observatory into their respective positions.

Katsuki was definitely bull-headish during the test, he completely ignored Iida and went straight to attack Izuku. Katsuki looked so pissed, his glare made half the students shiver, even through the screen.

It seemed Izuku had a plan, though. He was almost mesmerized as Izuku led Katsuki around like a bull tamer, flawlessly getting Uraraka to go for the real goal.

"HOW LONG?!" Katsuki snarled, slamming open the door to yet another room. "HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN PLAYING ME?!" Izuku tripped a bit, catching himself but being cornered by Katsuki. "NO ONE JUST GETS A QUIRK AT 15!" He growled, a hostile look in his eyes as he poised his hands to fuel his explosions. And Katsuki swung at Izuku.

And Izuku grabbed him, flipping him in one fluid movement until he lied on his back, winded. Kirishima had to say, that was one of the manliest things he'd ever seen. The fight after that was brutal, and a small part of Eijirou was bothered by how Izuku barely reacted to the burns that were wracking up.

The grand finale left everyone speechless. The high-tech cameras perfectly capturing the horrendous third-degree burns and severe bruising on the boy's broken arms.

Katsuki looked about as terrified as Eijirou felt. Izuku was carried out in a stretcher on the second day of school.

A week had passed since then, and everyone was pretty much acting normally again. The only problem was that Eiji couldn't look his shorter soulmate in the eye. Every time he saw those wide green eyes all he thought was how easily he had broken himself over the most trivial training exercise. He had nightmares about Izuku dying trying to save people, which, from what little Eiji had come to know of his green-haired soulmate, would most likely actually be how he would die.

He went to his dorm (because srsly dorms should have been implemented earlier) and tried not to think about it too much.

He woke up at 2:32am to a knocking on his door. He quickly got out of his bed, opening the door to reveal a surprising head of sandy blonde hair. Katsuki's entire body was tense, his knuckles white and his hair covering his eyes, he just stood there.

"Bakubro?" He quickly whipped the sleep out of his eyes.

"We're soulmates." It was a statement, and Eiji simply nodded. "Deku's your soulmate too." The redhead pursed his lips a little. "Yeah, he's our soulmate." Katsuki tensed a little further.

"So you know how fucked up that was, during the training exercise a week ago." Eijirou sighed in relief, finally having someone say it out loud. "Yeah, how the hell did he get so tolerant to burns?" He asked, and Katsuki seemed to almost curl in on himself, before inviting himself in.

Eiji awkwardly shut the door before turning back to Katsuki, who was sitting on the floor leaning on the side of his bed. His eyes were still on the floor, and his knees were pulled toward himself.

"Do something." The blonde demanded weakly, his voice less sharp that Eiji had ever heard it in the week and a half he'd known him. "What should I do?" The redhead asked softly, trying to set up some boundaries before trying to comfort him.

"I don't fucking know!" He raised his voice, it was gravelly and he sounded like he was about ready to cry. "My parents are soulmates and my dad always helps mom when she's like this, so just work your soulmate magic or something!" His voice was cracking and he clutched his legs closer to himself. Eiji nodded and sat next to the blonde.

"I'm sorry, but I need to know what's wrong so I can try to fix it, bro." He said gently. Katsuki sniffled. "You know, if you didn't say 'bro' all the time, you'd soul just like the old man. It's weird." Eijirou let out a hum but didn't say anything.

"...deku." Katsuki growled, answering Eijirou's question and making him wilt a bit. He never did understand their relationship.

"He almost fucking listened to me, if it weren't for him-" he cut himself off, glaring at the floor like it was the wood's fault. "We've known eachother for as long as I can remember. The nerd followed me around like a lost puppy, and when we figured out we were soulmates..." he let out a small chuckle, a hollow one. "...we argued over who would wear the dress when we got married." Scarlet met crimson. "We decided on you wearing the dress."

Katsuki whent back to burning a hole into a spot on the ground with his eyes. "I'm a fucking idiot." He muttered. Eijirou would have argued, but he wanted to hear everything Katsuki had to say.

"I fell in a pond once, we were walking on a log to get over it and I fell. It hurt, all the gravel and shit, but the extras following me just laughed so I laughed with them." His knuckles turned white gripping his pants. "But deku, he fucking climbed down to the pod to make sure I was okay. I smacked his hand away, I thought he was looking down at me, so I yelled at him until he cried." He but his lip.

"He still followed me around though, looking at me like I was amazing even when I yelled at him, cussed him out, pushed him around, he'd always pick himself back up and start following me again."

"Middleschool and he was still following me sometimes, even though I'd kick the shit out of him if I saw him." Eiji couldn't help the sharp intake of breath. "I told him I hoped you were better than my other soulmate, and that he'd better not get in the way. Now deku can't even look at you without those big sad puppy eyes because I'm a fucking idiot." His voice got a little louder at the end.

"He always did everything I fucking said because piece of shit thought no one else would love him like he deserves!" He'd uncurled himself at this point, still glaring at the same spot on the floor. "I knew he did everything I told him, why did I tell him to swan dive off the fucking roof!!?!!!" He was yelling at this point, tears streaming down his clenched jaw and onto the floor. Eijirou was stunned into silence.

"He almost did it to, said so himself. But he didn't." The anger had fizzled into horse whimpers. "He didn't because I was fucking in trouble. If he didn't help me get that breath of air out of the slime fucker, I could have died, I would have died." His whole face was scrunched in so many different emotions before settling on anger.

"Then he gets a quirk a decade late?! Was he lying to me?! And then that bullshit during the training and he breaks both his arms for no fucking reason, like he's disposable." He gripps his hands into his already messy hair. "It's all my fault he's quiet and nervous and self-destructive, but here I am whining to the soulmate I tried to take from him."

Eijirou would process that truth bomb later, at that moment, Katsuki needed a hug and Eiji was but a humble supplier. He wrapped his arms around the blonde, and to his surprise, Katsuki melted immediately.

The blonde gripped onto the back of Eijirou's shirt and buried his face in his chest until he fell asleep from the emotional workout. Eiji, weak to cuddles, also fell asleep soon after.

[maisondenachtai]

Thanksgiving at Home (The Re-Up)

plot: a loving shot at my family through the eyes of Chris Evans and Reader.

a/n: ....I’m stupid. Thanks anon who told me that Boston was not in Maine. ...i feel like an idiot.

               “No. It’s your turn.”

               You couldn’t deny it. It was an absolute fact that according to the terms of your agreement that it was, in fact, your turn.

               In the beginning of your relationship, which had started three years ago, holidays had always been a source of frustration. He was from the north, Massachusetts, and you were from the south, Georgia. You wanted to see your family, and he desperately needed to hug his mom.

               So, you decided to split the holiday, you would go home to Georgia and he would go back to Massachusetts. After that first year, you would flip flop who you spent holidays with. That meant that the next year you spent Thanksgiving in Boston with him, and Christmas at home in Georgia with your mother and Sister.

               So yes, that meant it was your turn to spend Thanksgiving with your family. But that didn’t mean you had to be happy about it.

“Seriously, we don’t have to do Thanksgiving in Georgia. I’ll take Christmas again. It’s nicer.” You were sitting on the bed, looking at his half-packed suitcase, Dodger laying next you, his eyes moving to and fro watching his Dad pack a bag of clothes.

“If I wasn’t sure that you loved me, I’d really think you didn’t want me in Georgia.” He looked back at you, a smirk on his handsome face. “You got an old boyfriend you don’t want me to meet there.”

“A? Many. And who said they were old boyfriends. Maybe I’m still seeing them.” You smirked back at him. You couldn’t help but fall into games with your man, even though you were far from light and joyous.

“Watch it.” He pointed at you with a mock serious look on his face. “I hate to have to fight them.”

“I doubt you could take them.” You looked up in the air. “One was a football player; he’s actually playing for the Falcons now.”

Chris looked back at you, a white button down in his hands. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, “Oh yeah. He actually sends me tickets from time to time. There’s actually a game on thanksgiving! Maybe we should go. I’ll send him an email.” You stood up, to grab your laptop.

“Y/n, so help me, I will throw that piece of tin out of the window.” He said, a smile threatening to burst onto his serious face. “Stop fucking with me.”

“I’m not. We should go to a game. We’re going to be in Atlanta anyway. …you know unless we go to Boston.”

Suddenly his eyes lowered and he shook his head, folding the shirt in half and walking towards his open luggage. “Dodger.”

The dog barked softly.

“Tell your mom that she’s got to try a lot harder to get one over on me.”

You rolled your eyes, flopping back onto the bed. You laid back and Dodger took this change to take a position on your stomach, making himself comfortable. “This is so stupid.”

“I mean, you know we bought the tickets, already right? So, the time for you to try all of this plan changing would have been a month ago.” He sat next to you running his hand over Dodger’s body. “And you were so fucking excited. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. …Nothing. I’m just nervous.”

“Why? I’ve met your family.”

You sat up, making sure to do so slowly so Dodger could adjust himself accordingly. “You’ve met my Sisters, their boyfriends, and her mom. Not my family.”

Chris looked at you, “I’m failing to see the problem. So we do some introductions and get to know each other? What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal Christopher Robert Evans-“You had hopped up, Chris grabbing Dodger before you flung him towards in the wall in your movement.

“Ooh Dodger, she used the government name. She’s serious.”

You tried hard not to smile, but couldn’t stop the thing from breaking your serious expression. “Stop it. I’m serious.”

“I know.” He smiled at you, and then rolled his hand around as if to say continue. “Come on lay it on me.”

“I’m from Georgia.”

His eyes shifted from side to side, as if the answer to his confusion was in the room. “I’m from Massachusetts…so what?”

“No, you don’t get it. I’m from Georgia…not Atlanta. My family is from Georgia. There’s a difference.”

In silence of the moment, Dodger slipped out of Chris’ arms into the living room. Chris folded his arms, looking at you.

“…If I get what you’re being obtuse about. You’re trying to say that you don’t want me meeting your overall wearing, one tooth, inbred, backwoods cousins.” He had that smirk again. You wanted to both kiss him and wipe it off of his face.

“Hey! None of my cousins are any of that.”

“Okay then, so what’s the problem.”

               You sighed and sat down, and he pulled you closer to him. You placed your face in his neck, his gold chain pressing slightly against your nose.

“I’m not embarrassed by them…” You said a little muffled by his body. “I just want to say that.”

“Okay… I’m listening.”

You sighed again, pulling back from him. “…It’s just…like…okay. Your family, like the house was put together and everyone was sitting around the table. We passed plates and it was all very nice.”

“Okay, and at Christmas at your mom’s we sat around the table and we didn’t pass plates but no one needs to do that. It was nice too.”

“But it’s not going to be like that at Thanksgiving Chris. Most of my immediate family will be there. The table we at for Christmas will be covered in food. We’re going to walk around the table buffet style, and everyone’s going to sit around the house, wherever they can fit. There will be no real plates, no real spoons. There’s probably going to be a kids area that will be messy.”

“Kids are messy everywhere baby.”

“I’m not done. There will be foreign foods. Oxtails, and chitterlings. Dressing…not stuffing.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“It is not!” You shook your head. “It’s totally different. There are going to be several things going on too. My uncle is going to sit in the middle of the room, with tequila, a lime, and he’s going to tell stories we’ve all heard 18 million times. He’s going to curse and we’re all going to be annoyed. My younger cousins are going to sneak out of the house, stand in a huddle behind the house and smoke weed, and talk about us old folks. My grandma is going to get drunk on Sparkling Cider, and probably try to flirt with you, and you better flirt back Chris.”

He chuckled then rubbing your back, “Of course I will. Now are you-“

“And I haven’t even told you about Spades.”

“Spades?” He found your eyes. “Like the card game.”

“Yeah. Spades goes down at Thanksgiving, and it is SERIOUS Chris. It’s like war, but less civilized.”

He rolled his eyes and stood up walking back into the closet, “You’re being dramatic now.”

“I’ve seen my cousin pull a gun out on somebody who reneged. I SEENT IT.”

“So okay, I won’t play spades.”

“What? And look like a bitch in front of all my cousins. You’ll never live it down. They’ll be at our wedding giving a toast like, ‘Hey Chris is a cool white dude, but he still a bitch cause he won’t play Spades with us’. I don’t want to be the cousin who married a white dude who won’t play spades. I can’t do it. I’ll be the black sheep.”

Chris gripped your shoulders, forcing you to look up at him. “Breathe baby.”

And you did.

“Again. Good and deep.”

And you did again.

“You feel better?”

You did, so you nodded.

“Good. Now, I’m saying this because I love you.” He grabbed your shoulders and shook you back and forth. “You’re acting like a nut.”

“I know. I know.” You said when he let you go. “I just want them to like you.”

He kissed your forehead. “They will like me. I mean how could they not first of all?” He grinned at you making you roll your eyes. He smoothed his hand down the side of your face, “And even if they don’t like me right away, they’ll grow to like me. And if they don’t…” He kissed you softly, soundly. “It doesn’t matter. I love you. You love me. And that’s all that matters. Okay?”

You closed your eyes, nodding. “Okay.”

“Say it.” He commanded gently.

“I love you. You love me. That’s all that matters.” You opened your eyes and your irises met his, you felt calmer.

“Good.” He smiled. “Now pack, boarding is at 8.”

--

               Atlanta never failed to take your breath away. It was so familiar, yet every time you returned there was always something new being built or done. You pointed out so many spots that you wanted to see before you returned to Los Angeles, and Chris made sure to note them all down on his phone wanting you to enjoy your time home as much as you could.

               After your father died, your mother decided that the deep south had nothing to offer you and your sisters anymore and decided to uproot you from all that you knew. Suddenly you were nearly two hours from the bulk of your family, living in a suburb of Atlanta that you knew no one in. It wasn’t your home at first, but eventually you had come to love Atlanta as much as you loved your little small town in Southern Georgia.

               As you came closer to your neighborhood you began to point of places of significance.

“There used to be this spot right there. Oh my god, they used to have the best hot wings. Like everyone tends to rave over American Deli, but they had better wings than anything I’ve ever tasted.” You said as you passed a spot that was under construction.

As you passed through the opening of the subdivision of your neighborhood, you smiled and pointed at the sign. “The neighborhood kids all used to hang around that sign. I had my first real kiss right there.”

Chris raised one of his eyebrows, “Real kiss?”

You smirked, “Tongue.”

He chuckled. “How old were you?”

“13.”

“Weak. I was 12.”

“Lie.”

“It is not a lie.”

“Chris, you’re about to pass it.”

“Shit!” He pressed on breaks, making you skid slightly to a stop a few inches away from your house.

               There were cars parked along the side of the road, a few on the grass without care to your mom’s poor lawn. You figured you’d be a little late, traffic was heavy, the airport had been busy of course, but …this was a Black family thanksgiving. 1 meant 3, not 2:30.

“Fuck. We’re walking right into it.” You said, sighing.

“Will you calm down? It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re definitely fine.” He waggled his eyebrows a little making you smile and then really smile when his eyes traveled down your white knit sweater dress covered body to the camel colored knee-high boots that he nearly begged you to wear.

You reached over and adjusted the collar of his white cable knit crew neck under his camel colored jacket. He wore a pair of khaki trousers, that you thought gave him an air of formal to go with his more casual upper attire. “You’re pretty fine too.” You smiled and leaned over to kiss him-

Thump.

But you jumped instead when your sister appeared at your window, somehow sneaking up on you. You rolled your eyes, sighing and rolling down the window.

“Hello Cassie.”

“Hello Y/n.” She grinned. “Hey Chris, I’m so happy my sister is no longer hiding your beauty from the world.”

“Hey Cass. Glad to see you again.”

“Glad to see you too.” She smirked.

You thumped her forehead, “What did I say about flirting with my boyfriend?”

“Don’t do it when you’re around?” She joked.

“Wrong, you little bitch.”

She laughed.

You grinned too. “Where’s Falen?”

“Feeding Cam. He’s so chunky.”

“I can’t wait to hold him.” You smiled at Chris. He grinned back at you. You had been talking about kissing all over your nephew for a month now.

“Well if you stop hiding in this…very nice car. You can. Come on Chris, everyone is really excited to meet you.”

               And just like that you were following behind your boyfriend and your little sister into what could be a doomed thanksgiving from hell. You nervously followed them into the house, not joining in on the conversation as Chris and Cassie talked about politics. Turning without much fuss, as Chris took off your duster and hung it in the closet, doing the same with his jacket.

You only followed numbly as you walked through the opening to your home, heart beating faster as the sounds of your family got louder. Just as it was at it’s peak, you gripped Chris’s hand, stopping in your tracks therefore stopping him.

He looked back at you, Cassie kept walking still somehow talking about how Biden was not the President we wanted or needed. You looked up at him, not able to say anything only looking up at him with wide eyes.

His lips were on your forehead quickly, placing three kisses in succession, one there, then your nose, and finally your lips. Silently he reassured you that things would be fine, and together you stepped through the threshold into your family room.

               Gatherings could be a lot for you. In a lot of the memories of the gatherings attended by you in your youth, you could only remember being a fly on the wall. Choosing to instead be passive instead of active like your sisters and your cousins. You weren’t anti-social, but you felt more comfortable laughing at the jokes then trying to tell them.

As you grew it got a little better, but you never felt quite comfortable in big group of people. In fact, after an event such as this one, you often needed to sleep for a long time. When you told Chris this before your first Thanksgiving with his family, he admitted to being kind of the same. He might not need to sleep after a big event, but he wasn’t quite the social butterfly either. It made you happy that he understood when you had to excuse yourself from drinking eggnog with the family late into the night. It made you even happier when he told you the next morning that his family understood too.

               With your family it was much of the same, your family understood that you weren’t the loudest and most of the time they were too busy being loud themselves to need you to be just as loud as them. It was just enough for you to be there sharing in the love of the family.

But not this time.

This time all the attention was on you and it was time to speak up.

               “So, Chris…where did you two meet?” The slight drawl of your Aunt cut through the sounds of The Temptations singing Silent Night, a favorite of your mom’s anytime of year…obviously.

“Uh, she…I mean Y’N was a consultant on a movie I was doing. I saw her and she was too beautiful for me not to get to know. So I asked her out for coffee.” He smiled at you then. “She said no.”

“You said no?” One of your male cousins, Taylor, called out. “Shiiit, if I was a girl I would have jumped on his ass.” He sucked his teeth. “Hell, shit, I’d jump right now. He got hella money.”

The room erupted into laughter and all of sudden the ice was broken. Chris was no longer an interloper…well he was, but he was no longer covered in plastic. He could be touched, he could be handled, he could be interwoven into the group.

You sighed, a little of your worry dissipating.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad.

                 To his credit, if anything was making him feel uncomfortable, he was taking it in stride. Chris had enjoyed when all your little cousins came up to him and asked him questions about Captain America, and asked if he was always Captain America or just on TV. You could tell because when he smiled, his face creased. He even did a few poses for them, which they loved.

When one of your cousins, Devontae, came over to Chris with a bottle of something clear and a smile you knew that this one would be a little harder. But again, he took it in stride as Devontae pitched him an idea of a TV show with talking Weed Plants, kind of like Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Chris simply smiled through it, shaking his head when you made eyes at him obviously getting the message that you could save him if he wanted you to. After Devontae walked away needing to captivate the attention of at least 5 other people in the room.

He was considerably more relaxed in a group of the male cousins you had grown up around. They had formed a sort of semi-circle, Chris in the middle with a long neck beer in his hand, nodding at what ever George had to say.

“Chris is doing good.” Falen said, leaning over slightly, adjusting Camden’s bib while he was in your arms.

“Yeah. He’s really fitting in.” You smiled and then cooed at Cam bouncing on his knee. “I want to take him home.”

“He’s yours. I’ll sign the papers today.” Falen joked. “So, it’s serious then.”

“What?”

“What?” Falen mimicked you, rolling your eyes reminding you of yourself. “You and Chris.”

“You know it’s serious Fay.” You mom chimed in. “She brought him home.”

“I brought him to Christmas last year.”

“Thanksgiving is different and you know it.” Your mom said pointing her wine glass in your direction.

“I told him that.” You mumbled, looking down at Camden who only looked back up you with sweet innocent brown eyes.

“Well I’m glad you are trying to lock him down. You two match, you know.” Falen grinned.

“And the matching outfits were just the right touch.” Cassie chimed in smirking at you.

You flipped her off, discreetly. Your grandma was still in front of you…although already sleeping.

“Shut up Cassie.” Falen chuckled. “Seriously. …I think he might propose soon.”

You chuckled shaking your head, “Nah. I don’t think so.”

Falen grinned, “If you say so little sis.” She patted her knee and then looked around. “Ma! When’s the food going to be ready. You said 1!”

“You know that means 3. Don’t get brand new in front of Chris.” You smirked.

               The spread of food was glorious. A beautiful turkey, a delicious ham from Honeybaked Ham cause no one had perfected the art of making a good ham, a huge pan of cornbread dressing collectively called dressing, two pans of Macaroni and Cheese cause one pan never survived your family’s greedy hands, turnips, collard greens and cabbages, cornbread muffins, hoe cakes, yams with marshmallow topping (your Auntie’s one and only dish that tasted okay), and a plate of various pieces of fried chicken. But none of this would be complete without your mother’s potato salad.

It was a feast to end all feasts. A dinner you dreamed about. You would have cried if it wouldn’t have made you look crazy. Chris held two thick paper plates, one for him and one for you, while you held Cam who you were never going to give back. You patted the baby’s back, he had just had a bottle full of milk thickened with a little baby rice, a special treat for Thanksgiving (it was your grandma’s idea).

“Come on little Cam, burp. Chris, more dressing. That’s not enough. It’s gotta be nearly half the plate. And you gotta put the cranberry sauce on top.” You said.  It was comical to watch Chris hold his plate, your plate, and also try to ladle dressing onto a plate.

“Here.” You chuckled holding out Cam. “You hold my new baby. And I’ll make our food.”

“No, wait. I need to ask your sister if I can hold him first.” He said looking around for Falen.

“It’s fine, you won’t drop him cause if you do I’ll kill you.” You smirked at him.

“I need to wash my hands.”

You rolled your eyes, “Now who’s acting like a nut.” You took one plate from him then the other sitting them down and then walked into his personal space. He opened up for you almost cradling you and Cam.

“Now I know you have held a baby before, so don’t freak out now.” You handed him off to Chris and he instantly held the Camden in his arms, supporting him as Cam settled in the crook of his neck. You looked at the sight, your man holding a little brown boy, and you could almost imagine that Camden was your baby.

Your stomach flip flopped, and you gnawed down on your lip at the sight.

Chris smirked, knowing exactly what was on your mind. “Make the food.”

“I am. I am.” You chuckled, not daring to look at any of your family members.

“Ohhhhh, we’re making plates now. Okay, Y’n!” Julie, your Aunt’s daughter called out, making you chuckle in embarrassment.

Making plates had a lot of connotations in black families. It all but signaled that Chris was your man and you were totally subservient to him.

“You want some yams baby?” You said putting on a sickly-sweet voice to amuse your family members.

The room filled with Awws and whipping noises at your question. You turned and found Chris’s face red, but he was still patting Cam’s back like you had been doing.

“He didn’t burp yet?” You asked.

“Not yet, I don’t think.”

“Mm. We probably need to get you a burping towel. It might be-“

The wet burping noise stopped your sentence stopped you in your tracks, making you look up at your man who was looking down at Cam, who was looking quite satisfied at the burp he had just let out and the off white spit up stain he left on Chris’ shirt.

“Oh no babe.” You laughed a little.

“He spit up a little.” He said, a little amusement in his voice.

“Yeah. Good job baby boy.” You rubbed Cam’s back.

“Oh nooo. I’m so sorry Chris.” Falen came over easing Cam out of Chris’s arms, which made him a little agitated. “I can pay for dry cleaning.” She frowned a little.

“No. No. No. It’s fine. It’s just a little spit up. No need for all of that.” He laughed.

“Well Y’N, at least go try to clean it up.” You mom said. “We have tide pens and stuff in the upstairs guest bathroom.”

Your mouth opened up, jaw hanging a little, “But my food! It’s gonna get cold.”

Your mother put her hands on her hips, “Well yeah it is, cause you’re sitting here back talking me instead of getting your behind up those stairs and cleaning his shirt. Now go.”

“Yes mam.” You put the plates down on a slightly clear space on the table and grabbed Chris’s hand. “Come on Chris.”

--

Chris sat on the edge of the tub and watched you as you washed Cam’s spit up out of his shirt.

“Dang it Cam. Now my food is getting cold.” You muttered.

“You’re calmer.” He commented.

You looked over at him. He was only wearing his pants, a tank top, his pendant necklace hanging off his neck. He looked…really good.

“Yeah. It’s been a good day.” You nodded, putting more hand soap on his sweater. “Are you having fun?” You looked over at him, hoping that he would say yes even if he didn’t mean it.

“A blast honestly. Your family is so warm, and inviting. So funny. And I love how they love you.” He hitched his pants up and stood, walking over you and standing behind you in the mirror. You looked at his reflection, his shirt momentarily forgotten.

“But you know what I love even more?”

You smiled, “Me.”

He grinned too, kissing the top of your head, “…Your mom’s potato salad.”

You turned around and smacked his chest with a wet hand making a loud noise.

“What it’s so good. Oh my god. Get that recipe.” He chuckled and pulled you close to him wrapping his arms around you. You looked up at him, kissing his chin. “No, seriously. I love how bright you’re smiling. How happy you are to be home. How relaxed you are. That accent you have slipped back into.”

“I did not.”

“Oh yes you did.” He smirked. “But I love how you, you are right here in this house. …I would give up every thanksgiving to see you be this relaxed.”

“I love you Chris.” You said quietly.

“I love you. So much.”

               And then he kissed you.

And you wished you could say that kiss lasted forever, or went on and on but of course-

Knock, Knock.

“Yn, Mama said no fornication in her Christian household.” Cassie shouted.

               And you both laughed.

   Epilogue

               You placed Cam down on your Mother’s bed, patting his back and kissing his head.

“He’s an angel. Ugh, we’re going to be here tomorrow and you better be here.” You said to Falen pointing at straight index finger at her.

“I will be. I’m not letting yall eat up all the leftovers.” She rolled her eyes and then smiled at Chris. “You did really good with Camden today Chris.”

“He’s a sweet baby. I did nothing.” Chris shrugged.

“So…planning to have some of your own?”

“Oh kay, we’re leaving now. Tell mom I see her tomorrow and Cassie I will see her tomorrow and to eat a dick.” You gripped Chris’ hand pulling him to the coat closet, allowing him to help you into your coat, and helping him smooth out his jacket.

“Goodnight everyone!” He called out, earning many well wishes as he walked out.

“Oh shit.”

You walked out of the door, focusing on closing the door after yourself. “What’s wrong, is there a big dog out her or-“ You looked up and almost laughed.

Damien, your ex-boyfriend the Falcon football player was standing in front of you two. A bag in one hand and a smile on his face.

“Oh shit, Damien. I can’t believe you’re here!” You passed Chris, hugging Damien.

“Oh yeah. I always come out to your mom’s house after the games. Can’t pass up on the potato salad.” He smiled, sharing a laugh with you and then smiling at Chris. “So this is the dude. Nice to meet you man. I love Captain America.”

Chris shook off the shock, and stuck out his hand, shaking with Damien. “Thank you. And you’re a great football player.”

“Thank you man. Yall need to come out to a game. I’m always offering your girl here tickets but she says you’re a Patriot fan.”

“Oh yeah, gotta go with the home team.”

“Respect man.”

               Chris and Damien talked for another couple of minutes before Damien excused himself into the house. Chris looked at you, shock written on his face.

You smirked, “You thought I was bullshitting you didn’t you?”

Chris shook his head, taking your hand and walking towards the rental car. “When we get home, I’m throwing that piece of tin out of the window and you’re changing your email.”

You smirked.

“Jealous.”

[hajimesh]

prompt list

(angst, soft, smut & random)

[ angsty prompts ]

1. “do you ever mean the things you say?”

2. “come back to me.”

3. “you really are an awful person.”

4. “you need to leave.”

5. “there was never an us.”

6. “i fucked up.”

7. “i’m so, so sorry.”

8. “leave me alone.”

9. “you’re not leaving, are you?”

10. “please look at me.”

11. “is s/he really just a friend?”

12. “i’m sorry but i don’t feel the same way.”

13. “did you think i wouldn’t find out?”

14. “do you even care anymore?”

15. “you don’t really think i’m getting annoying, do you?”

16. “as the saying goes: you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.”

17. “he wanted to take a break, but that meant it was all over.”

18. “she kept it to herself. she didn’t want him to see how much he hurt her.”

19. “i knew it was too good to be true.”

20. “you can’t let him get away with it this time.”

21. “i can’t hide the way i feel about you anymore.”

22. “he’s so paranoid, i can’t do anything by myself anymore.”

23. “don’t apologize if you don’t mean it.”

24. “every song reminds me of you.”

25. “i can’t stand seeing you like this.”

26. “don’t shut me out.”

27. “just promise to never lie to me, okay?”

28. “somethings are just better as memories.”

[ soft prompts ]

1. “you look exhausted, come here”

2. “not everyone is going to hurt you.”

3. “can i hug you?”

4. “you know i have feelings for you.”

5. “i wish you were here.”

6. “it’s too cold! come back!”

7. “monsters inc. was onto something, your smile and laughter runs my entire world.”

8. “i’m not going to stop poking you until you give me attention.”

9. “just pretend to be my date.”

10. “i didn’t get soaked wet walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. i have beer too. i know you’re sad, so let me in.”

11. “your cuteness is making everyone stare. stop it.”

12. “you make me proud. you know that, right?”

13. “you’re so damn beautiful, baby. i can’t believe you’re all fucking mine.”

14. “i know you’re mad at me but will a kiss change your mind?”

15. “god, i miss you so much.”

16. “i’m only doing it because you’re cute.”

17. “even when you’re annoying the fuck out of me, i still love you.”

18. "i love you even when you're sleepless and frustrated."

19. “can we just watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?”

20. “you’re so clingy, i love it.”

21. “you’re cute when you’re all worried.”

22. “can i do your hair?”

23. “why do you only kiss me when i’m sleeping?”

24. “nothing bad is going to happen, baby, I promise.”

25. “excuse me for falling in love with you.”

26. “i’m sorry, but that was adorable.”

27. “i’m glad you’re mine.”

[ smutty prompts ]

1. “what? does that feel good?”

2. “c’mere, you can sit on my lap until i’m done working.”

3. “did i stutter?”

4. “the only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

5. “just let me finish this/this level and i swear i’ll go down on you until you cum at least three times.”

6. “i’d hold onto something if i were you.”

7. “try not to ruin your manicure when you dig those nails into my back.”

8. “i’m going to remeber this moment when i’m jerking off later.”

9. “you’re too flexible for your own good.”

10. “let’s fuck in the shower so it feels like we’re kissing in the rain.”

11. “if you keep fucking me this good, i’ll marry you.”

12. “we’re the sexiest couple i’ve ever seen.”

13. “you’re the reason i smile so wide and come so hard.”

14. “could he make you feel as good as i do?”

15. “we’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?!”

16. “is that a gun on your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”

17. “god damnit, now all i can think about right now is you licking my cock like its that ice cream cone.”

18. “if i have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”

19. “it’s not polite to stare, but i understand.”

20. “i love how your body loses control when you cum.”

21. “i’m bored. come over and sit on my dick.”

22. “why did you wear underwear, when you know im going to tear it off anyway?”

23. “im going to be late because you can’t keep it in your pants.”

24. “can i at least take my shoes off before u pounce at me?”

25. “no, i’m supposed to be making you feel good.”

26. “would you prefer my tongue or my cock?”

27. “dammit, we made a mess.”

28. “were you dreaming about me again?”

29. “well good morning to you too.”

[ random prompts ]

1. “have i entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”

2. “let’s be annoyingly cute.”

3. “in this exact moment, i love my bed more than you.”

4. “grab my ass one more time and see what happens.”

5. “would you still date me if i dressed up as a cow for halloween?”

6. “these are not regular brownies!”

7. “he hates me. everytime i speak, he looks at me like i’m stupid.”

8. “i’m too sober for this.”

9. “the ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”

10. “good thing i didn’t ask for your opinion.”

11. “why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?”

12. “you work for me. you are my slave.”

13. “just smile, i really need to see you smile right now.”

14. “i had a bad dream again.”

15. “it’s a zombie, not an alien. know the difference.”

16. “you’re so cute when you’re upset.”

17. “waffles or pancakes? or wine? oh..or beer?”

18. “it’s almost midnight and you haven’t said anything cute at all.”

19. “do you always look at me like that?”

20. “what would you do if you never met me?”

21. “i should've stayed in bed.”

22. “picnics are for losers.”

23. “bed. now.”

24. “are you asking me out?”

25. “i may be an idiot, but i’m not stupid.”

26. “i just like proving you wrong.”

27. “we’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about.”

28. “you know you want it, sweetheart.”

29. “you got a cute butt.”

30. “...or we can chill in our underwear.”

31. “he’s pampering me, let him be.”

32. “don’t touch me. we’re fighting.”

33. “i’ll give you a massage.”

34. “hold my hand so he gets jealous.”

35. “it’s just rain, you aren’t gonna melt!”

36. “you know when your phone buzzes, it means i’m trying to talk to you, right?”

37. “when’s that last time we went on a date?”

38. “i thought you didn’t like cats?”

39. “i had a dream about you.”

40. “pick up lines only work when i’m drunk.”

41. “but, i said i love you.”

42. “we could get struck by lightning, but you want to kiss in the rain.”

43. “you’re never this quiet, what’s wrong?”

44. “…or we could make out….”

45. “i warned you. he warned you. your freaking mom warned you.”

46. “sit still, for the love of all that is holy.”

47. “can you be romantic for once?”

48. “you don’t hate me, quit lying to yourself.”

49. “are you high?”

50. “ew ew ew. you’re so gross.”

51. “step aside and watch a pro.”

52. “i’m a lucky girl. i’ll admit that.”

[slashscowboyboots]

The Stars Are a Part Of Us: The Brains Of This Outfit

This my “Almost Famous” inspired groupie fic, with appearances by @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands (Celestia/Alessia), @sexcoffeeandrockandroll (Absinthe/Amy) and @no-stone-no-bone (Velvet), plus yours truly as Karen.  This is a pretty dark fic, with VERY mature themes and smut.  Cross-posted on AO3

Tag list @izzysdenimjacket ​ @no-stone-no-bone ​ @sexcoffeeandrockandroll @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands ​ @smokeandmirrorz ​ @sodalitefully ​ @roger-taylors-car ​ @lost-in-the-80s @whisperess33 ​ @shawolat​ ​@80snikki @rumoured-whispers

Warnings: Underage sex, drug use, drinking, implied violence.  18+ ONLY

1987

This must be her.

Izzy sat up straighter, watching as a short blonde shuffled toward the back of the bus, a huge bag on her shoulder and carrying a pillow in her arms.  She didn’t notice him sitting in the next to the last seat, and she flopped down on the one behind him, setting down her pillow and leaning against it, then rifling through her purse till she found a book.

Bella Donna. The most beautiful one of all.  She certainly was pretty, he thought, with her long blonde waves and huge blue eyes.  She dressed like Stevie Nicks’ runaway progeny too, all ruffles and lace and faded jeans, although instead of Stevie’s platforms she wore a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots.  

I’ve never seen a groupie play hard to get, he chuckled to himself.  She must be something else.  Watching her turn a page, he noticed her full lips pursing as she read the text.  He couldn’t make out what the title was, but he could see a long-haired bare-chested hunk and a bosomy babe spilling out of her bodice in a passionate clinch on the cover.  

Oh, shit, she’s reading romance novels.  Probably wants me to seduce her.

 Izzy didn’t think he was quite up to that.  

87 had been rough on him so far.  Getting busted on a possessions charge (thankfully, it hadn’t included a “with an intent to sell,” although that had been exactly his intention), sentenced to rehab and now on probation, with orders he continue to be piss tested on the road.

It was a miracle he was allowed to leave the country, but his lawyer (who was far too good to be in his pay scale, Izzy noted) argued that his client’s ability to earn a living shouldn’t be hampered by his arrest.  (The fact that his paying profession had led to his arrest wasn’t lost on him either.)  To his amazement, the judge had agreed, and Geffen, desperate to recoup their investment and make a little scratch before the band killed themselves, sent them with The Cult on a tour of Canadian hockey rinks.  Woo hoo.  

Just before the tour started, he and Niv were approached in a shitty dive by a curvy brunette introducing herself as Absinthe and claiming she was one of the Road Wives.  

“Heard of us?” she asked, coyly batting her eyelashes.

Izzy took a sip from his Coke and nodded.  Yes, he’d heard of all of them.  The Flying Garter Girls, the GTO’s, the Road Wives.  All conglomerates of groupies who traveled with bands and made life on the road even more colorful and chaotic.

“Of course you have.  It’s an honor to travel with the Wives.”

Izzy rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke from his nose.  “And you’ve selected us, I suppose.”

Absinthe smiled, the contrast of her crimson pout with her white teeth and skin visible even in the dim light.  “We have.  Our leader Velvet has chosen Axl as her traveling companion.” 

Niven smirked, and Izzy raised his eyebrows.  “Has this already been decided?” he said quietly.

Those red lips formed a tight line.  “No.  Axl said to take this up with you.  ‘Izzy has the final word,’ he said.”

He took another drag, and she leaped at the opportunity to speak.  “There’s uhh, four of us, and Celestia has picked Slash, and I,” she smiled, and Izzy swore he saw devil horns poke out of her dark hair, “I settle down with no man, but I’ve spent time with your drummer and won’t mind repeating that experience.”

He flicked his ash from his cigarette, bored disinterest on his unsmiling face.  “And Duff is married.”

She swallowed, then nodded.  “Yes, Duff is engaged, and has cordially informed us he will not require our services.  Shame, there’s a tree I’d like to climb again and again.”

Izzy lit a new cigarette with the end of the first one and ground the butt out, then leaned forward on the table and said, “Shame, because I say no to the whole shooting match.”

The whites of her black-lined eyes became enormous.  “Wait, you haven’t heard who’s with you.”

“I don’t care who’s with me,” he said, in a quiet but firm voice.  “I’m on fucking probation and I don’t need any more headaches.  And I damn sure don’t need four chicks we have to babysit.”

“Hear her out,” Niven snickered.  “I gotta hear about the whore that wants you.”

Absinthe licked the front of her teeth.  “Bella Donna.  The most beautiful one of all,” she said softly.

Izzy shook his head.  “Nope.  I’m not traveling with anyone fucked up or underage.”

“She’s 21.  And she blows a gasket over drugs.”

Niven elbowed Izzy.  “She sounds right up your alley, mate.”

Izzy shifted in his seat, rolling the end of his cigarette in the ashtray as he chewed the inside of his cheek.  

“She and I went to school together, and we’re older than the other girls.  We keep them in line.  They will not cause you any problems on the road.  You have my word.”

Izzy slid his eyes to Alan, who shrugged.  “Canada’s cold, Izz.”

Absinthe smiled.  

He still wasn’t convinced.  “She doesn’t use?  Cause I’ve never heard of a groupie who didn’t.”

She shook her head.  “Reads us the riot act if we do.  She smokes weed every now and then, but I don’t even think she’s done that in the last six months.”  She batted her eyes, sensing his interest.  “Drinks the occasional beer, but she’s normally our DD.”

Izzy sighed, then downed the last of his Coke.  “All right.  One fuckup, and I don’t care what it is, if one of you broads even breaks a nail, your asses are heading home.  Put that in the tour budget Niv, four bus tickets back to LA if any of them get the hiccups.”  He stood up.  “I’m not joking.”

No, a seduction was not something he was up to.  Maybe a quick fuck when the bus got dark, if she loosened up a little.  Normally, groupies sucked you off as a way of saying hello, but this one had tromped on past him and buried her nose in a book.

Honey, is that any way to welcome your man?

He leaned over the bus seat, carefully studying her.  She wore a moonstone ring on one hand, a crystal ball set in a pair of hands ring on the other one, and gigantic sparkly hoop earrings.  He didn’t especially understand this Stevie Nicks fixation, but if memory served, she’d fucked her way through Fleetwood Mac and the Eagles, so as long as Rhiannon here didn’t wear a chastity belt, it was fine by him.

He tilted his head and asked, “Aren’t you going to say hi?”

Her eyes darted up from her page, then back down.  “Hi.”

He had another great view of the top of her head.  “Is this any way to act?”

She turned a page, her eyes not leaving her book.  “I wasn’t aware I was a bother.”

Since Izzy’s arrest, patience was not something he had large reserves of.  “Are you really going to do this?” he snapped.

Her eyes met his then, and he had a second to register how long her eyelashes were before he realized how irritated she was.  “Do WHAT, may I ask?” she growled, her voice hard.

Izzy was thrown, but he shrugged it off.  Maybe this is foreplay to her.  “Why aren’t you in my lap right now?  Daddy’s had a rough day.”

She went completely, utterly still, then asked, “What?”

A little voice in his head (something he heard much more frequently now that he was sober) told him something was off, but he blurted, “You’re my whore and I shouldn’t have to beg you to blow me.”

He watched her cheeks flush, then the sides of her neck, and he belatedly realized that this was someone you didn’t piss off.  To his relief, she didn’t reach into her purse, but instead slammed her book shut and gritted, “Who told you I was your whore?”

“Well, I see you two have met,” Absinthe said, smiling as she sat down next to her.

“She did,” Izzy said, tipping his chin up, not taking his eyes off the blonde.

“Amy Louise, do you mind telling me what the fuck is going on?”  She glanced up at Izzy.  “Are you telling people I’m ‘Bella Donna the wonder groupie’ again?”  Closing her eyes, she muttered, “Because you know how much I hate that.”

“Ahh,” Absinthe answered, “well, possibly.   But you really should get to know Izzy.”

Her eyes darted back to him.  “I’m good,” she snapped.  “I think I know all I need to know.”

“What’s the hell’s that supposed to mean?” he growled.

“It means what you think it means.”  She turned to Absinthe.  “You are going to stop calling me ‘Bella Donna’ or I am going to make you stop.  You got that?”

“Yes.”  Shoulders slumping, Absinthe stood up and walked back to the front of the bus.

Izzy watched as the blonde laid her forehead on her palm, then reached into her bag and lit a cigarette with trembling hands.  She looked up at him.  “Did you get that, Hoss?” she said in a tired voice.  “I’m not ‘Bella Donna,’ and I’m definitely not your whore.”

He nodded, then a small voice said, “Sissy?  Is that my Sissy?” A younger girl with brown hair sat down next to her, and she immediately hugged her, then laid her head on her shoulder.

“I love you, Sis,” the younger girl said.

“I love you, too, Celly Belly.”

“Who’s that?”

“That’s Izzy.”

“Hi, Izzy, I’m Celestia.”

“Hi.”

“Izzy, this is my sister, Karen.”

“We’ve met,” Karen said icily.

“Why don’t you like him?  He’s cute.”

Karen looked at her sister in horror.  “He’s a drug dealer.”

“Former,” Izzy said.

“And a junkie.”

“Also former.”

“He has a girlfriend.”

“Nope, she left me when I went to rehab.  For another guitarist with better drugs.”

“He’s cute.  You should bang him.”

“Celestia.  That’s not why you sleep with people.”

“Yes, it is,” Celestia and Izzy said in unison.

Karen rolled her eyes.  “That’s not why I sleep with people.”

“Have you talked to Steve?” Celestia asked.

Karen breathed out a sigh.  “No, not since he took up with that model.  Catriona.”

“Steve is an idiot,” Celestia said, lighting up a cigarette.  “I heard their record is multi platinum.”

“Yeah, they brought Mutt back.”  Karen said.  “When you sell that many records, that’s when the models show up.”

“Yeah.”  Celestia blew out a plume of smoke.  “Did you bring your hat?”

Karen crossed her arms and slumped in her seat.  “Yeah.”

 “Yay!”  Celestia squeezed her.  “ I know you don’t want to be ‘Bella Donna’ anymore, but I love it when you are.”  She looked up at Izzy, who was still watching them.  “I bet he could make you forget Steve.”

“I’m good.”  Karen tightened her arms and scowled.

“Sissy, please be nice to Izzy.”

“Why?”

“Because I really like Slash.  And Izzy will make us go home if we don’t behave.”

Karen looked at Izzy, then Celestia.  “You really want to stay?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Celestia?” a voice called.  “Baby, where are you?”

Celestia said, “I gotta go.  I love you, Sis.”

“Here,” Karen said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a handful of condoms.  “Don’t fuck him without one.  I don’t want any more doctor’s visits.”

Celestia tucked them inside her waistband of her microshorts, then kissed Karen’s cheek.  “I’m not going to get in trouble again, I promise.”  As she stood up, she smiled at Izzy, then squealed, “Slashy!”

Izzy lit a cigarette and smirked at Karen.  “Well, that was just absolutely fucking touching, but you twats are hitting the pavement the first stop we make.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Oh, yes, you are.”

Karen narrowed her eyes.  “That girl is 16.  Velvet is 17.  And you’re planning to take them into another country to have sex with them, which the last time I looked was a criminal act.”

“Not if we dump your asses out before we hit the border.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Well, you’re not.  I’m on probation and I don’t need this bullshit.”

“Yes, let’s talk about that.  You do realize any of these girls, myself included, though I wouldn’t, can at any time say, ‘He raped me?’   ‘He hit me?’  Now for anyone else in this band, that would be any given Tuesday, but for you?  You have a lot more to lose.”

Izzy’s eyes widened.  

“I mean, Absinthe told you I was your whore, and obviously that’s not true.  We’re liable to say just anything.”

He shifted in his seat, feeling a chill run down his back.

“Where are we stopping anyway?  McDonald’s?  There’s always a cop there with nothing to do.  Maybe he’ll have time for a damsel in distress.”

Izzy swallowed.  “What do you want?” he gritted, knowing she had the upper hand.

“You can show us ‘twats’ a little respect, for starters.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” he spat.  “Your ass is chapped because I was a dealer.”

“Hoss, don’t make me play my ace.  Cause I have four of them, and I ain’t on probation.”

He ground his molars together.  “What else?”

“We stay, and you provide us with basic human necessities.  A place to sleep, food, and shelter.”

“And?”

“Take us backstage.”

“That’s a given.”

She shrugged.

“Then what?”

“Then your band runs around with empty balls and everyone is happy happy happy.  ‘Cept you, you’re on your own with that.”  She crossed her arms.  “And I make sure no one is a headache.  You’ll never know we’re here.”

“Can I believe you?”

She directly met his gaze.  “Yes.”

“How do I know that?”

“I’m not a liar.  I’ve been honest about everything so far.”

Why didn’t I meet you first?  It would’ve saved a shitload of time.  “Why are you here?” he snapped.

“Because your band has a body count, Stradlin.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“Todd Crew.  Slash shot him up, did he not?”

Izzy took a deep breath.  “He says he didn’t.”

“Do you believe that?”

“What I believe is none of your fucking business.”

“I heard he did, and Todd died in his arms.”

Izzy lit a cigarette and looked away.  “We, ah, we were all gutted when he died.”

“Well, my baby sister is sleeping with Slash, and I want to make sure that is an isolated incident.”

Izzy took a drag.  “It is.  None of us are on smack anymore.  Slash just drinks now, and I can’t do fucking anything.”

Karen met his eyes.  “You’ll forgive me if I’m not entirely swayed by your testimony.”

He shrugged.  Even though she was judgmental and unforgiving, he could see where she was coming from.  If he had a sister, he’d shit himself if she took up with Slash.  Or any of them.

She must be the brains of this outfit.  She hates us all.

Karen shot him one final filthy look, then dug a Walkman out of her purse and closed her eyes, resolutely shutting him out.

Izzy sighed, then his eyes landed a few seats ahead of him.  Duff had pledged undying fidelity to his fiancee and planned on recreationally drinking instead of fucking, and had already passed out cold, snoring loudly against the window.

I don’t have that option, Izzy bitterly thought.  It wasn’t even that he wanted to drink or raise hell anymore.  His rehab stint had opened his eyes to how close he’d skated to the edge, and just when he felt like he’d finally made it back to the land of the living, Todd had fallen into the abyss.

There’d also been the unspoken question, Is Slash going to be charged with murder?  The band had closed ranks and called all the lawyers, and in the end, no one was indicted.  Guns was already on thin ice for Axl and Slash’s separate arrests for statutory rape, and Izzy’s incarceration was the final straw.  The brass at Geffen was adamant: One more strike, boys, and your asses are done.

He titled his chin up and blew out a plume of smoke.  He hadn’t had many plans for this tour, but he had expected to spend it in the arms of a submissive woman.  Sex hadn’t been forbidden by the terms of his probation, not yet anyway, and he’d been, well, enchanted by the idea of a babe who didn’t get fucked up and yet was enthusiastic to do his bidding in the sack.  He could slap himself now for believing such a creature even existed.

He stole a glance at Karen, whose head had slumped forward.  Even in her sleep, she looked weary, beautiful but worn out.  He realized now, if Absinthe’s description was right, she was just a nice girl looking after her sister, and Celestia’s taste in men must be exhausting if Slash was any indication.  Izzy felt his ears growing hot as he thought about how aggressively he’d approached her, even though he’d been promised she was a sure thing.  Demanding she immediately hop on his dick wasn’t what he considered finesse.

Fuck, how am I going to get laid now?  That thought was punctuated by a hushed moan from Slash, and Izzy wanted to pound his head against the seat in front of him.  He’d just have to hope that somehow Canadian groupies were very willing yet went to church frequently.

Damn, woman, you’re sure you won’t change your mind about me?  I can be romantic if you want me to.

Can’t do much about me being a dealer though.  That ship already sailed.

He heard Karen stirring behind him, and turned to watch her stretch out and cover herself with a blanket.  Since he expected to be wrapped in her arms, Izzy had packed away his own covers, so he buttoned his denim jacket and crossed his arms, sleep mercifully arriving quickly.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The One Who Got Away

Summary: While out with friends one night, the reader bumps into her old high school best friend, Jensen. They always had a will they, won’t they relationship but the reader finds things with Jensen don’t seem to be going as well she thinks they are...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 7,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, family drama

A/N: For the purposes of this fic, Jensen’s wife and kids are fictitious...

____

“Oh my God,” said Carla. She nudged you and nodded over towards the other end of the bar. “Look at the guy going up to do the karaoke.”

“He’s hot,” said Nora, sipping on her beer. You spun around in your seat, catching the back of the man, his friends he was with obviously egging him on. You tilted your head, wide eyed when the guy spun around up there.

“Holy shit,” you said as he started to sing.

“I know. Plus he can sing,” said Carla.

“No. I mean...I know him,” you said.

“Yeah, he does look familiar. Is he an actor or something?” asked Carla.

“Yeah! Wasn’t he on that superman show? Oh that other guy was hot too,” said Nora.

“No. I mean, well yes, he was. He had his...own show for a while,” you said. 

“You like a fan?” asked Carla.

“Go get his autograph when he’s done!” said Nora. “I’ll go with you if you’re nervous.”

“Guys-”

“I want his autograph,” said Carla.

“You’re married to Nolan,” she said. “I know he’s revolting but still.”

“Oh, Nolan is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. I can still look,” said Carla. “Speaking of which, Miss I’m engaged.”

“I’d have to fight Dan off over that guy,” said Nora. “And I’m trying to be a supportive friend over here before Y/N fangirls too hard.”

“Guys-”

“I triple dog dare you to ask him as your date to Nora’s wedding,” said Carla.

“That’s evil,” said Nora. “I want in though. I’ll pay for your drinks tonight if you do it.”

“He was my best friend in high school,” you said, both of them going quiet. 

“Oh,” said Carla after a moment. “Sorry. We’ll shut up.”

“Yeah. Sorry, Y/N. We were only teasing,” said Nora. “My brother totally wants to go with you anyways.”

“I...I’m gonna go say hey,” you said, standing up when he finished singing. He got a few slaps on the back from his friends and took a seat, doing a shot as you slowly walked over. You froze for a moment. 

You hadn’t seen him since you were eighteen. It was more than likely he wouldn’t recognize you in the dim bar anyways. You shook your head and went to turn away.

“Kid?” you heard, gaze going back to his table. His friends were all staring at you but you only saw Jensen looking at you with a big smile. “Y/N?”

“Hey, Jens,” you said. He shot up out of his seat and immediately gave you a hug, pulling back with a goofy grin. “Been awhile.”

“Yeah it has,” he said, looking you up and down. “You look great.”

“You too. You finally grew into your body,” you said with a laugh.

“Took me long enough. You never had that problem,” he said, biting his bottom lip.

“Who’s your friend, Ackles?” asked one of his friends, a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Guys this is Y/N. She was my best friend in school,” he said.

“You mean the Y/N you had a super huge crush on?” said someone else. Jensen looked like a deer in the headlights, his other buddies wearing shit-eating grins.

“Remind me to kill you later,” mumbled Jensen.

“It’s cool, Jay, really. It was a long time ago. I just wanted to say hi,” you said. “I’ll uh...see ya.”

You immediately left, heading back to your table with a sigh.

“Y/N,” said Carla, shoving her credit card back in her wallet.

“Mhm?” you hummed, tugging your jacket on.

“You got a visitor,” said Nora. You turned on your stool, Jensen giving you a smile as he walked up. “Hi.”

“Hi,” said Carla.

“Hi,” said Jensen to them both before landing his gaze back on you. “Sorry about them. Guys are...shit heads.”

“It’s fine, Jensen, really. Like I said, it was a long time ago,” you said.

“It was,” he said. “Do you ladies mind if I steal Y/N for a minute?”

“Oh, steal her for all the minutes,” said Nora.

“You and Dan are my ride home,” you said.

“Maybe you get a ride home somewhere else?” she said with a shrug.

“Oh my…” you sighed, hopping off your seat and following Jensen outside and into the cool night air. “Sorry. My friends would get along great with yours.”

“You were never much of one with being friends with other girls,” he said with a smirk.

“Cause I was a tomboy,” you said. “I wasn’t exactly girly in school, Jensen.”

“So?” he asked, nodding down to your band tee. “I always liked your style.”

“I do wear skirts and dresses now, Jay,” you teased.

“I’m just saying, you be you. I always liked that version of you,” he said.

“What’d you want to talk to me about?” you asked.

“I have kids,” he said. “And I just went through a very quiet divorce about a year ago.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“Remember how you always said I’d marry the first girl I wasn’t shy with? Well, you were right,” he said. “I never loved her the way I knew it was supposed to be. She was safe and I was scared.”

“Jensen. Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m sorry for being a horrible teenage boy when I was eighteen and ruining our friendship. I had a crush on you from the first day of kindergarten and I never said a word. Tonight...I feel like a five year old all over again,” he said.

“You said-”

“I know what I said. I remember,” he said.

“I said some pretty awful things too,” you said, kicking the ground. “I told you that you’d fail if you went out to LA, that you weren’t any good.”

“I deserved it. I’m pretty sure I called you a bitch,” he said.

“You were pretty angry,” you said. “All because I went to prom with Dylan Anderson.”

“Dylan Anderson was a scumbag who bragged about who he had sex with in the locker room. He had this list of girls he wanted to try and get with just so he could be their first and you were on it. He was always asking me how to get in your pants,” he said.

“I never had sex with Dylan Anderson. You would have known that if you hadn’t stopped talking to me but oh wait, Jackie Morlan didn’t like you talking to me,” you said.

“Like I said, I fucked up. The one time I picked popularity over you and...I ruined thirteen years of friendship and the end of our senior year and none of our friends talked to you anymore. I know I fucked it up,” he said.

“What is your point?”

“My point is, I should have asked you to homecoming and prom and I should have had the guts to ask you out. We both wanted it. I was too shy and I treated you like one of the boys too much. I took you for granted,” he said.

“You can’t change that, Jensen,” you said.

“No, I can’t. I have two amazing kids and I wouldn’t change a thing when it comes to having them in my life. But if I could have done it with you, I would have,” he said.

“Jensen. I had the world’s biggest crush on you back then. I kept waiting and waiting for you and maybe I regret not saying something first but you know how little confidence I had back then. I’m a big girl now, Jens. I don’t just say yes to the pretty boy because he asked,” you said.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he said with a nod. “You grew up very beautiful, Y/N.”

He turned and headed down the sidewalk, your own eyes shutting.

“Wait,” you said, Jensen’s footsteps stilling. “What did you say to Dylan Anderson? I know you said something because he didn’t even try to make a move on me at prom.”

“I told him if he hurt you, I’d hurt him,” said Jensen. “He could have easily kicked my ass but I sounded pretty scary when I said it.”

“So we stopped talking and you still had my back?”

“That’s what best friends do,” he said with a shrug, turning to face you.

“Why’d you really get a divorce?” you asked.

“She stopped loving me in that way,” he said with a sad smile.

“Jensen.”

“She cheated on me and I pretended it wasn’t going on because I thought I deserved it for not being around so much,” he said.

“You’re an idiot,” you said. “You don’t deserve that, Jay.”

“I know,” he said. “Listen, I’m sorry for bothering you tonight. I should have just kept my mouth shut.”

“Hey. Red light green light,” you said, Jensen tilting his head.

“That was...that was your thing,” he said.

“It was our thing and just because we never did it with you doesn’t mean we shouldn’t start,” you said.

“That’s not-”

“I said red light green light. You remember the rules,” you said. “You came up with them.”

“Green light,” he said.

“You’re lying,” you said. He sighed and shook his head as he crossed his arms.

“Fine. Red light,” he said. “What’s the point?”

“Red light means let’s go find someplace that still has ice cream this time of night and we talk until you feel better,” you said.

“We aren’t teenagers anymore,” he said.

“No. We’re not. But red light green light really helped me on some bad nights and I think it’ll help you too,” you said.

“I gotta head home. The kids are getting dropped off in like twenty minutes,” he said.

“Jensen.”

“Go tell your friend you’re riding with me then. And hurry. I don’t want to be late.”

“The one time she’s early,” grumbled Jensen as he pulled into his driveway. You slid out of the car and saw the driver’s side on the the other one open. “Hallie.”

“Jensen,” she said, glancing at you. “Moving on finally?”

“She’s my friend,” he said, opening her backdoor. “Where are the kids?”

“In the house watching cartoons,” she said.

“You left them in the house alone? They’re four and three,” he said.

“They’ve been in there fifteen minutes, they’re fine,” she said. “I’ll be out of town with Wes the next three weeks so you’ll have them 24/7.”

“Starting…”

“Tonight,” she said. “I have to head home and finish packing if you don’t mind.”

Jensen waved her to leave, rolling his eyes after she backed out.

“That’s your ex-wife?” you asked.

“Yup.”

“No offense but she kind of seems like a bitch.”

“She is,” he sighed. “She suckered me. Jokes on her though. Glad I listened to my parents and got a pre-nup.”

“Way to go Ackles,” you said, Jensen smiling. 

“She only has the kids one day a week anyways. It’s very hard explaining to a small child why their mom doesn’t want to see them,” he said.

“She purposefully doesn’t have the kids more?” you asked, following him in through the front door.

“She was never overly affectionate with them. She’s been slowing leaving their lives for the past year. I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked I have full custody within a few months,” he said.

“How on earth did you wind up with someone like that?” you asked.

“Because she acted like someone I wanted. But like I said, pre-nup. She’s got a pretty stupid rich out his ass boyfriend now so she’s happy,” he said, kicking off his shoes as you followed him inside. You looked over and spotted a little girl and boy sitting on the couch watching cartoons. “Hey guys. It is so past your bedtime.”

“Mommy said we could watch,” said the girl, a little bit bigger and taller than the boy nearly passed out next to her.

“Well it’s past your bedtimes,” he said, flipping the screen off and picking up the girl. “How was mommy’s today, Harper?”

“We watched cartoons,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Is that all you did?” he asked.

“Yeah. Wes came over. I don’t think he likes me and Taylor,” she said. Jensen seemed to ignore the comment but he pursed his lips, looking at the boy half-asleep.

“You want me to get him?” you asked. He smiled and you picked Taylor up, the boy tilting his head at you with green eyes. “Wow. You look so much like your daddy.”

“You smell pretty,” he said, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“He’s so cute,” you said.

“Wait until it’s five am and he’s peeling open your eyelids,” said Jensen with a smirk. “Alright. Let’s get you two squared away.”

Ten minutes later you headed back downstairs with Jensen, Jensen sighing as he went to the freezer and pulled out two pints of ice cream.

“I forgot how much easier that is when two people do it,” he said.

“Your kids are adorable,” you said.

“They’re worth dealing with she who shall not be named,” he said, giving you a smile and handing you a spoon.

“Your house is beautiful too,” you said, taking a seat at his kitchen counter. He hopped on top of it, starting to dig into his ice cream. “So what’s got you feeling red light?”

“Do we have to do this?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. That’s the rule. If you feel like shit, we eat ice cream and talk until you don’t feel like shit,” you said.

“This used to be easier when it was you feeling crappy, no offense.”

“We don’t have to fix it all tonight, just talk,” you said.

“I’m an asshole and you still want to make me feel better,” he said.

“Best friends have each other’s back from what I hear,” you said. He chuckled, nodding his head. “So what’s up?”

“Nothing. Same crap I’ve been dealing with for awhile,” he said.

“You seemed okay until we were outside the bar.”

“Because sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if we hadn’t had that stupid fight,” he said. 

“I could have said something too, Jensen.”

“No you couldn’t have,” he said with a sad smile. “I knew your weak spots and I hit them. Jackie was stuck up and I never should have started hanging out with her.”

“She was the prettiest girl in school,” you said.

“No she wasn’t.”

“Jens-”

“No she wasn’t. She had to put on a mountain of makeup and a push up bra and wear tight little shirts. There was someone else far prettier around,” he said. “And I was scared of ruining us so I kept it down and then when Jackie started pulling me away, I called you a prude and told you to act more like a girl and you totally should have kicked my ass for that.”

“I spent my first year of college being a girly girl you know,” you said. “Make up every morning, hair, preppy clothes. Frat parties, joined a sorority, hooked up with a guy on a bet. I spent my first two years of college like that.”

“Why?”

“Because boys started paying attention to me. People started to talk to me,” you said with a shrug. “My dad thought something was wrong, like I was having some kind of reverse breakdown or something.”

“What about the second two years?”

“A frat boy tried to spike my drink,” you said.

“Really.”

“Yup. I knocked out three of his teeth,” you said with a smile.

“That’s my girl. You thought it was silly when I taught you how to throw a punch too,” he said.

“Well after that whole incident, I quit my sorority and started fresh. I met Carla and Nora in a study group. Those were real friends. We sat around and ate pizza and cookies and looked like shit and we had a blast. We would dress up and go out sometimes but it was different. It felt like I found a balance. It was nice having girl friends for once,” you said. “They’re the ones that reminded me that acting like a girl means not taking anyone’s shit.”

“I like your friends,” he said. 

“So we had a fight in high school. You obviously regret it and I regret it and...maybe something would have happened, who knows. But like you said earlier, you got two great kids upstairs and I’d never take that away from you,” you said.

“Can we start over?” he asked. “From before our fight?”

“In that case, you owe me a dollar for lunch money,” you said, Jensen breaking out into a laugh. “I’m serious. With inflation that’s like five bucks.”

“I can take you to lunch tomorrow to make up for it,” he said. 

“I thought we were starting over,” you said. Jensen nodded and hopped off the counter, walking around to you.

“Oh, we are,” he said. You stared at him as he leaned down and kissed you, cupping your cheek gently.

Oh shit he was better than any teenage dream you’d had could have been. He was soft and sweet and he tasted like bourbon and vanilla. There was a spark in your stomach that raced through your veins, quietly vanishing as he pulled back. You breathed and looked up at him, Jensen licking his lips.

“I already told you. I fucked it up the first time. I’m not doing it this time around,” he said. “What do you say?”

“You’re blushing,” you said, touching his cheek, feeling the heat in it. You reached your hand around to the back of his neck, Jensen letting you pull him into another kiss.

“Can I take that as a yes?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s a yes.”

“For my own edification, back then, if I wasn’t so scared…”

“It would have been a yes,” you said.

“That’s what I was scared of,” he said with a swallow.

“Jens. Stop being scared,” you said. “Please?”

“Alright,” he said with a nod.

“Red light green light?”

“Green light,” he said. “I feel better now. Promise.”

“Good. Now what fancy rich neighborhood do you live in cause I need to get an uber home.”

“Hey, Y/N?” asked Jensen when you answered your phone as you were heading out for your lunch date the next day. “I got a slight problem.”

“Yes…”

“My last minute babysitter had to cancel last minute,” he said.

“Bring the kids with,” you said. “I don’t mind.”

“Really?” he said, his voice light and happy like he was a kid himself.

“Yeah. Let me get to know the whole family,” you said. “If you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah, totally. We’ll meet you there.”

“Hello Ackles,” you said, spotting them in a booth at the restaurant. 

“Hi!” said Taylor from the other side of the table, tucked between the wall and his father.

“Hi Taylor,” you said, sliding into the empty spot next to Harper. “Hi Harper.”

“Hi,” she said, a bit more quiet than she was the night before.

“Guys, this is Y/N. She was my best friend in school,” said Jensen. “She’s hopefully going to be hanging out with us more lately.”

“Do you play pretend too?” asked Harper.

“No. Your daddy was very good in all of our school plays though. He even got me to do it one year,” you said.

“You hated that,” he said.

“Yes, I did,” you laughed. “I’m a sound engineer.”

“Really? I thought you were going to be a marine biologist,” said Jensen.

“Well, one required way less schooling,” you said. “So you know how singer’s record in a studio? Well I’m one of those people that helps turn what people sing into an album.”

“Do you know Taylor Swift?” asked Harper.

“No, no. Sometimes I work on commercials too. I do a lot of different stuff. It’s really fun,” you said.

“Can you sing like daddy?” asked Taylor.

“Nope,” you said. “What about you guys? You good singers?”

“I’m amazing,” said Taylor.

“Mhm,” laughed Jensen. “So, Y/N-”

“Harper’s having a pool party tomorrow for her birthday. Are you gonna come?” asked Taylor. You stared at Jensen, Harper scowling at her little brother. 

“I didn’t know there was a party,” you said.

“I don’t want a party anymore,” said Harper. “Mommy won’t be there.”

“Sweetie, all your friends from pre-school will be there. Don’t you want your birthday party?” asked Jensen. Harper shook her head, Jensen staring blankly for a moment. “We’re having your party, Harper.”

“I don’t want it,” she said.

“How old are you turning, Harper?” you asked.

“Five,” she grumbled.

“My mom wasn’t at my fifth birthday either,” you said. Jensen gave you a smile, Harper looking up at you. “Can I come to your party, Harper?”

“Okay,” she said. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

“I can take her,” you said.

“Thank you,” said Jensen as you slid out, following Harper back to the bathroom. You waited inside with her, helping her get up to the sink and dry off her hands. By the time you were back out, a plate of french fries was in the middle of the table. “All good?”

“Yeah. Can I have a hotdog?” she asked.

“Sure. You wanted mac and cheese, buddy?” asked Jensen, Taylor nodding. “Y/N, order whatever you want. It’s on me.”

“I’ll just get a cheeseburger,” you said. “Harper, I like your braid. It’s very pretty.”

“Daddy did it,” she said. “He’s really good at playing dress up.”

“I bet he is,” you teased. He rolled his eyes and ordered when the waiter came over, making small talk for the most part with you and the kids.

“Hey guys,” said Jensen as he put down some money to pay. “You want to hang out at Uncle Jared’s tonight for a few hours?”

They both nodded excitedly as Jensen looked at you.

“Dinner?” he asked. You smiled and he looked relieved. It wasn’t until you were outside and he packed up the kids in the car that he brought it up again. “Sorry. This has been a total disaster of a first date.”

“No it wasn’t,” you said. “They sort of come with the package.”

“Thanks for earlier with Harper. She really wanted me to cancel her birthday party this morning,” he said.

“Speaking of which, what does she like? I got to run to the store and grab her a present,” you said.

“She’s got toys out her ass,” he said. “Some money in a card is fine. I’ll put it in her savings.”

“Would she like a blanket?” you asked, a silly smirk crossing his face. “Blankets always made you feel better when you felt crappy.”

“She likes pink,” he said.

“Alright. I’ll find her something,” you said. “Where do you want to meet tonight?”

“I can pick you up at your place at seven?” he asked.

“Alright, that sounds good,” you said.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Yes?”

“I know it doesn’t seem like it but you just gave those two more attention in an hour than their own mother’s given them in six months,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me for talking to your kids, Jensen. You don’t have to thank me for that,” you said.

“I’ll text you later,” he said. “And thank you.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later, Jens.”

“Hi,” said Jensen when you slid into his car that night, Jensen looking you up and down. “You look gorgeous.”

“You look very pretty too,” you teased. “Where are we going?”

“BBQ?”

“That’s my boy,” you said. He was quiet as he drove, asking you more about your work as you parked and ordered your food. It wasn’t until he was halfway through a pulled pork sandwich that he started to blush. “What is it Jensen?”

“I’m doing it aren’t I. I won’t shut up,” he said.

“We’re catching up is all,” you said. “I don’t recall you ever being a singer in high school.”

“Well, it’s not exactly something you brag about,” he said. “I’m not any good anyways.”

“You sounded pretty good at karaoke,” you said. “You could make an album for fun. Plenty of people do. Those are actually my favorite projects to work on.”

“Maybe. I’m busy enough with the kids and brewery. I got a movie I’m supposed to film in a few months. Only like four weeks but I’m gonna fucking hate being away from the kids that long. My parents are going to have to watch them,” he said. “Signed on before we got a divorce and everything.”

“Can’t she take the kids?” you asked.

“Honestly, I don’t trust her. About two years ago, Taylor was still a baby, she really started to show her true colors. The nanny was the one raising the kids. I mean, I’m not claiming to be world’s best dad or anything but at least I change a diaper and give ‘em a bath when I’m home. Now they’re getting older and they’re starting to think mommy doesn’t like them. Unfortunately, I think that’s true,” he said.

“You weren’t joking earlier about thinking she wants to ditch them, were you.”

“No. In the long run, it’ll be the best thing for them. But it’s gonna suck. I hope they’re small enough to not let it get to them,” he said.

“I barely remember my mom,” you said. “Shit, your mom was the one that got me through my first period.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was over your house and went to the bathroom and it happened and she was so nice about explaining everything to me. I think my dad was a bit relieved we didn’t have to have that talk,” you said. 

“My parents ask about you every once in a while,” he said. “Ask if we ever made up.”

“I assume they’ll be at the party tomorrow?” you asked, Jensen nodding. “Well, you can tell them we have now.”

“Harper’s not gonna have a mom pretty soon,” said Jensen.

“Do I have to tell you how a period works?” you asked, Jensen chuckling.

“No. No. It’s just hard to be dad and mom sometimes. I know it’s going to happen too,” he said.

“Well, when it does, I want you to remember that your kids are better off with just you,” you said.

“I’ll try,” he said. “How’s the brisket?”

“Crap, crap, crap,” you heard a guy say as you got out of your car at Jensen’s the next day. You rushed over and helped him catch a bag that was falling. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you said, giving him a smile.

“I haven’t seen you around before. I’m Jared,” he said.

“Y/N,” you said, Jared raising an eyebrow.

“Wow. Like the Y/N Jensen was puppy dog in love with?” he asked.

“My reputation precedes me with Jensen’s friends apparently,” you said. “We met up a few days ago again. Talked through some stuff. We’re...trying it out.”

“I don’t even know you and I already like you better than the bitch,” said Jared. “Sorry. That’d be-”

“I know who you’re talking about,” you said, glancing at the bag. “Looks like Harper’s making out pretty good.”

“I’m the godfather. I’ve got to spoil her rotten,” he said. “I used to work with Jensen.”

“Yeah, you looked familiar. Your hair’s much shorter now, right?” you said.

“Yeah. Jensen was so excited,” Jared laughed. “I’ve been thinking of growing it out again. Well, I’m glad you made it.”

“Glad Harper invited me,” you said, following him down the driveway and around to the backyard, spotting a few kids and adults around.

“Hey, loser,” said Jensen with smile.

“You’re the loser,” you said, looking to Jared when you heard him echo the sentiment back. 

“Well now I really like her,” said Jared, setting his bag down near the pile of presents. “Speaking of which, where’s the birthday girl?”

“Last I saw, Gen and my sister were keeping an eye on them in the shallow end,” said Jensen. 

“Well I better go say hey,” he said, taking off as Jensen gave you a smile. 

“Thanks for coming,” he said as you sat down a small bag on the table. “So what’d you get her?”

“Eh, it’s nothing,” you said with a shrug. He hummed and crossed his arms. “I got her Harry Potter and a soccer ball.”

“That’s actually kind of perfect. She starts soccer in the fall and she’s ahead of her age group reading wise. She’s actually really ahead,” he said.

“You were always a good reader. Plus kids love Harry Potter,” you said. 

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” he said, your lips turning up when you caught sight of his older brother coming over. “Hey, Josh. You remember-”

“Little shrimp. Hard to forget Y/N Y/L/N,” he said with a laugh. “Did you let him sucker you into being his friend again?”

“We’re kind of dating,” said Jensen quietly.

“No shit. You do have a pair on you after all,” he said, slapping Jensen’s back. “Hey Mac!”

“What!” she shouted from across the yard.

“It took them more than ten years to get together! You lost!” he shouted.

“Mow your own lawn loser!” she shouted back. 

“No way! A bet’s a bet!” said Josh as he headed off, not without turning around. “I always told Jenny-”

“Joshua. Leave before I drown you at my daughter’s pool party,” said Jensen, closing his eyes.

“Fine, fine,” he said, waving Jensen off. “You know I’m pretty sure you gave him his first boner and-”

“Josh!” said Jensen, his brother cracking up as he left. “That’s not true…”

“We’re not at that stage yet so let’s just go with the old standard,” you said.

“Josh is a dick?”

“Josh is a dick,” you laughed.

“I can agree to that,” said Jensen. “So bathroom is right through there. If you want to change out of your swimsuit, just find a place in the house that’s free. We got presents and cake in like an hour but other than that, it should be pretty laid back.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go say hey to the birthday girl myself and I’ll swing back around later.”

“Thanks for helping pick up,” said Jensen, tossing a streamer in the garbage bag that evening.

“It’s no problem,” you said, looking around the yard. “I think that’s the last of it.”

“Yeah. Hey you want to hang out? We were gonna do a little backyard bonfire. If you want to,” he said.

“Sure. I do want to change out of these wet clothes first though,” you said. He hummed and you walked back out to your car, grabbing your bag as Jensen showed you down to the guest room. 

“Shit,” he said, the door already closed. “Forgot, my brother’s family is crashing in there tonight...and my parents are in the other guest room and my sister’s family is taking over the family room.”

“Don’t you have a bedroom?” you joked.

“True. I don’t want you getting the wrong idea though. I mean...you know what I mean,” he said.

“Just point me towards a shower and I’m good, Jens,” you said. He showed you towards his room and told you to take your time. Your jaw practically dropped when you were alone. His house was gorgeous but the bathroom was anyone’s dream come true. “Shit Jens. Somebody did well for themselves.”

You set your bag down on the empty vanity and pulled out your new clothes before hopping in the shower. You were pretty sure you would marry it if you could have but you didn’t want to waste all the water on Jensen and quickly were out and changing into some sweats and a tee shirt.

“I’m all set,” you said, giving Jensen a smile as he padded around in his bedroom.

“You got a hoodie?” he asked. You shook your head, Jensen walking into his closet and out a few seconds later, tossing one at you. “Take it.”

“Thanks,” you said. You gave him his privacy, catching his parents watching the kids in the family room. “Hi.”

“You owe me five bucks,” said his dad to his mom. “Told you those two would wind up together.”

“I was the one that said that!” she said, rolling her eyes.

“She’s delusional as always,” he said, standing up and giving you a hug. “How you doing kiddo? You got all grown up.”

“Yeah, been a few years,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Jensen said he ran into you a few nights ago. I’m so glad you two made up,” said his mom. “He could really use a good friend right now.”

“Grandpa, Daddy says he used to be best friends with Y/N,” said Harper, already face first into her Harry Potter book. 

“We’ve known Y/N since she was your age, Harper. She practically lived at our house,” he said. 

“She lived at your house?” she asked.

“It’s just an expression. I went over your daddy’s house a lot to play,” you said with a smile. “So, Jensen said fire in the backyard? Am I to assume the famous Ackles smores will be served?”

“You help pack up the kids for outside and we’ll get this thing going.”

“Hey, shrimp,” asked Josh a few hours later, the kids all up in bed in the house aside from Harper who was passed out on Jensen’s chest.

“Yes, Joshua,” you said, sipping on your beer. 

“How’re Drake and Devin doing?” he asked. “We sort of fell out of touch when they moved up to New York.”

“Those guys are good. Off being lawyers. Shockingly enough they didn’t get in the NBA like they planned,” you said with a laugh.

“Wasn’t that the boys plan?” teased Mac. “Your older brothers were like super hot though.”

“Your older brothers were super hot,” you said. 

“Josh was not hot,” said Jensen.

“When I was 14 and you got an older brother, he was pretty hot at the time, Jensen,” you laughed.

“I always knew shrimpy had a crush on me,” he said.

“Uh, no. That was reserved for someone else,” you said.

“I wonder who that could be,” said Jensen, pulling a yawn and stretch, putting his arm over your shoulders.

“How’s your dad doing, Y/N?” asked their dad. “He retired yet?”

“No. No. He’s still got a few years left he says. My brothers and I keep trying to get him to quit but we think he doesn’t want to sit in an empty house by himself,” you said.

“He never found anyone, did he,” said Jensen.

“No. After my mom got sick, he focused on us and on work. I think that’s part of the reason me and my brothers were always over your guy’s house so often. Dad was always working two shifts. You guys fed us dinner most nights of the week,” you said, pursing your lips, catching the look on his parents faces. “You knew that, didn’t you.”

“It was always obvious that you and Jensen had a special friendship,” said his dad. “You two were attached at the hip from day one. When you started coming over to play, we started noticing a few things. We had a conversation with your dad one night before he picked you up. We offered to help. He was reluctant but we found out what happened with your mom and he let us help eventually. That was around the time your brothers and Josh started playing together too.”

“I know,” you said, staring at the fire, feeling Jensen rub your shoulder. “The Ackles were always nice to the Y/L/N’s.”

“I’m gonna put Harper up to bed,” said Jensen, nodding for you to follow. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

He picked her up easily and brought her into the house, returning down to the kitchen with a smile after a moment. 

“My sister in law is conked out but I think they’re fine,” he said, heading back for the back door. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just remembering...when we fought, I sort of lost your family too,” you said.

“I know they’ve only tried to embarrass me about fifty times today but my family did always love you too, Y/N.”

“You love me?” you asked.

“I did. A friend love for sure. We still have to figure out the rest of this. I’m not ready to say it. I may never be,” he said.

“I enjoy just hanging out again,” you said. “Even if your family apparently made a lot of bets on us getting together.”

“You haven’t even heard half of them,” he chuckled. “Come on. I bet there’s still some smores left out there.”

Two Days Later

“Hi guys,” you said, spotting Harper and Taylor playing with some chalk in the driveway. “Where’s your dad?”

“He got a big letter in the mail. He went under the front porch,” said Harper, pointing down towards the front door, Jensen sitting at an outdoor table with his back to you.

“Alright. Well, your dad invited me over for dinner so I’m gonna go say hey and then I’ll be right back,” you said. You made sure they were okay on their own before you wandered down and poked Jensen on the shoulder, Jensen nearly jumping out of his seat. “Sorry.”

“Y/N, no, it’s fine. You’re early,” he said, looking at his watch. “Or not. Shit. Shit, I was supposed to have the food in the oven and those two need to get out of the sun.”

“Alright. You take a minute to yourself and I’ll get them inside and washed up, okay?” you said. Jensen nodded and you rubbed his arm as you walked past. You gathered up the kids, letting them show you where they kept their chalk in the garage, leading you inside and showing you around a little before you got them both washed up at the kitchen sink.

Jensen made his way inside by the time you were in the family room playing with them. He forced a smile on his face as he worked in the kitchen a moment, closing his eyes once he had the oven door shut.

You left the kids and wandered over, Jensen sighing as he shoved some papers back in a manila envelope.

“Jay...what happened?”

“She’s giving up custody. She filed the paperwork. All I have to do is sign apparently,” he said, running his hand over his face. “How the hell did I end up with a person like that?”

“Are they better off with or without her?” you asked.

“Without for sure,” he said.

“Then remember that. You love ‘em and that’s all they need right now,” you said. He nodded, letting a half-smile cross his face. “I’ll watch dinner and the kids. Go get your head on straight.”

“No, Y/N. I’m really okay,” he said.

“You’re really not. Go before I force your wimpy ass,” you said.

“Alright,” he said, gathering up the papers and taking a step out of the kitchen. “Y/N, I don’t know how you came back into my life at this exact moment but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Go on, Jens. I got everything covered.”

“Thanks for tonight,” said Jensen, the kids passed out in bed as you sat on his back porch. 

“Just because you knew it was coming doesn’t make it easier,” you said.

“You knew your mom was sick when you were little, didn’t you,” he said.

“Yeah. My parents told us. I didn’t understand really, not until after she was gone,” you said. “You’ll be okay, Jay.”

“I know. I don’t know how to tell them,” he said. 

“Tell them their mom isn’t able to be a mom anymore and leave it at that,” you said. 

“Harper’s the one that’s old enough to ask questions,” he said.

“Don’t say anything until it’s final. Maybe when she’s back from her vacation, she’ll say something to them, alright? Try not to stress too much and just enjoy the few weeks without her.”

Two Months Later

“Ackles,” you said, ruffling Taylor’s hair as you walked into Jensen’s house after work. “Where’s daddy?”

“Harper’s room,” he said with a frown.

“Something happen?” you asked.

“She thinks daddy’s getting rid of us too,” he said. 

“Oh, Taylor,” you said, picking him up. “Your daddy’s never getting rid of you. He loves you so much.”

“Mommy did,” he said.

“Come on, let’s go find those two,” you said, carrying him on your hip up to Harper’s room, Jensen scowling at her closed closet door. “I see it’s going well.”

“Harper. Y/N’s here,” said Jensen. The door flung open and she ran over to you, grabbing onto your leg.

“Make daddy stay,” she said.

“Stay where, sweetie?” you asked.

“Harper, I have to travel for work. It’s just a little while and I will be home every weekend,” he said.

“I hate you,” she said, letting go of you and storming down the hall. 

“I got her,” you said, setting Taylor down and going down the stairs after her. She moved pretty fast for a five year old and you barely caught up to her before she could rush outside. “Hey, you know you’re not supposed to be outside without a grown up, Harper.”

“Can we live with you? Daddy’s going away too,” she said.

“Harper,” you said, picking her up and carrying out to the backyard, settling her in your lap on the oversized swing back there. “Daddy isn’t going anywhere. He has to travel for work. He won’t be gone too long and he’s going to call you every single day. I promise. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Are you?”

“No. No, I’m not going anywhere either,” you said.

“Are you still gonna come over every day?” she asked.

“Of course. You and me are gonna bake cookies and go swimming and ride bikes. We’re going to do all the stuff we do now. Your grandparents will be here during the day is all,” you said.

“Promise?” she asked.

“I promise, sweetie.”

One Week Later

“Alright,” you said, Jensen tossing his backpack on his shoulders. “You got everything you need?”

“Well, I can’t bring the other things I want,” he said with a smirk. “There’s a couple of short people around here I’d like to accompany me but otherwise, I’m good.”

“Text me when you land,” you said.

“Will do, sweetheart,” he said, pecking a kiss on your lips. “Y/N. You really don’t have to come over every day just to hang out with the kids.”

“I know I don’t have to, Jensen,” you said with a smile. “We’ll try not to destroy the house too badly.”

“Thanks,” he laughed. “I’ll talk to you in a few hours then.”

“Talk to you soon, babe.”

_____

[holylulusworld]

Hated Love 3 - Post-wedding apocalypse

Summary: Will your wedding become a dream or a nightmare?

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x Mobster!Daughter!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, Ruby

Warnings: angst, love-hate relationship, Dean hates the reader, and she hates him, language, snarky comments, arguments, smut, public sex, unprotected sex, arranged marriage, food play, anal play (not really; does eating pie off a butt count?), implied threesome (mentioned/and implied)

Kink: Foodplay

A/N: Y/F/N = Your father’s name

Catch up here:

Part 1 - Hated Love

Part 2 - Hated Love – The Reckoning

Kinktober 2020

Wedding days should be filled with laughter, cake, white dresses, and people crying as they watch the bride and groom confess their love for each other.

Wedding days shouldn’t be filled with odd noises coming out of the bride’s room right before the ceremony.

“Look at you, filled to your limit,” Dean purrs, holding your body against the wall.

He’s driving wildly into you, not caring anyone who passes your room can hear he broke your fathers’ rule to not see you before the wedding.

“Missed this tight little pussy. Your father is an idiot for believing he can keep me away from my girl.”

“I’m, fuck me, not your girl, Winchester,” your eyes roll back at the way Dean grips your ass to fuck up into you. “Did you forget that I’m your fiancé?”

“Never, sweetheart,” Dean grins, rolling his hips faster. “How could I ever forget I’m allowed to fuck you anytime I want to from now on.”

“Already daydreaming?” you laugh when someone knocks at your door, to tell you that the ceremony will start in ten minutes. “Faster, Dean. I want to cum before I agree to marry your sorry ass.”

Dean tries to fix your dress while you fight with your hair. “The zipper, I think it’s ruined,” you groan at Dean’s words, adding another bobby pin to your hair. “Do you have a clasp pin?”

You would laugh about Dean, even find it adorable he tries to fix your dress but not three rooms away your families wait for you to attend a wedding – your wedding.

“Dean, you can’t use a clasp pin to fix my wedding gown! Why did you have to rip it down my body? Jesus, I swear you’re a kinky bastard,” Dean grins, nodding eagerly whilst his hands creep toward your ass to squeeze it tightly.

“Guys, you should stop doing whatever you are doing and move your asses outside. Y/N’s father is close to starting a war. John is no better. I can tell, I never saw Y/F/N that mad,” Sam calls from outside the room, snickering. “Dean, stuff it back inside and hurry.”

“I ruined her dress,” Dean curses, still fighting with the zipper. “Do you have a safety pin? Or a jacket she can wear?”

“Wait, I’ll ask Ruby. Maybe she can help Y/N out. Just wait here,” you roll your eyes at Dean when he tries to repair your dress with a bobby pin.

“Dean, stop trying,” a deep sigh leaves your lips, realizing this could be a sign. “Maybe we shouldn’t marry. For years we hated each other and now you want to marry me.” Dean has the guts to smirk at your words.

“Oh sweetheart, you are mine and I intend on collecting,” he husks, grabbing the back of your neck to kiss you fiercely. His tongue slips inside your mouth to explore every inch of your wet cavern. “I will not let you slip through my fingers again, Y/N. Now be good, get out of that dress and we will try to fix it.”

“If not,” you grin, sliding your hand over Dean’s chest, “I can still marry you in nothing but my underwear…”

“Perfect, Ruby,” you smile, checking on your wedding gown. “Where did you learn to sew? I never thought you would be the one saving my dress.”

“Let’s say Sam likes to rip my clothes off my body too. I hated that I had to explain why my clothes got ripped open almost every week,” Dean snickers, watching Sam’s cheeks turn pink. “Don’t act all shy now, Winchester.”

“I know you would like to talk about my sex life some more, but we should not wait any longer or Y/N’s father will lose his patience. I think he already checked on his gun,” Sam tries to turn your attention back toward your wedding.

“I guess it’s time for a wedding,” you smirk, holding out your hand for Dean. “Don’t you think I’ll let you out of sight, Winchester. I don’t need a runaway groom.”

“Damn, I forgot my sneakers,” Dean grins, taking your offered hand to squeeze it tightly. “No one will stop me from marrying your cute ass, sweetheart.”

The ceremony is short, honest, and filled with insults. Which means you called Dean a humorless jerk. He called you a frigid bitch. You exchanged rings and swore to each other not to stray.

Whilst John grinned throughout the whole ceremony, even dared to laugh, your father remained stoic. He didn’t like you acted as if the ceremony or rather the whole wedding is a joke to you and Dean.

Your father’s mood didn’t get any better when you insisted that the wedding was perfect to you. Even though you laughed, joked, and threw insults at your husband, it was the wedding you wanted.

The after-party, or as you liked to call it, the desperate people buffet who look for someone to fuck after a wedding, went on until 2 am. Your father grumbled the whole time, not missing John was in a good mood.

When the last guest finally left the ballroom you kicked your shoes off, grabbed the last piece of cake, and pushed it into Dean’s face.You laughed your ass off, he wasn’t amused.

That’s how you ended up, bend over the table with the cake, hands tied tightly behind your back with Dean’s tie whilst your husband smears the cake all over your ass.

“You should see your ass, baby. Ready to get eaten,” you gasp, feeling his teeth sink into your left cheek to leave an angry bite mark. “What will your daddy say when I send him a copy of the video?”

“He’ll believe I married a kinky bastard who likes to smear cake onto my butt,” you giggle, feeling his fingers slide through your folds. “No cake on my pussy or you’ll lose your dick.”

“Shhh…, sweetheart,” Dean smirks, licking more cake off your ass, moaning as you press your butt into his face. “I’d like to take your ass.”

“No,” you grit out when Dean’s teeth leave another mark on your right cheek. “Not now, Dean. I want you to fuck me on that table. Give me the perfect ending.”

“Babe, you’ll get anything you want but I already chased you through the ballroom. We had a food fight and now I’m going to fuck the life out of you,” Dean smirks, feeling wetness coat his fingers.

“I want your dick, Winchester. Give it to me,” you complain. “I’m your wife, fulfill your duty,” laughing at your words Dean gets up to slowly unzip his pants. His dick slaps against your ass and you whine feeling Dean step away from the table to take another picture.

“I must admit I never imagined our wedding like this,” Dean is back on you. This time he slightly lifts your butt to slide into you with one forceful snap of his hips.

“Dean,” you cry out, walls clenching tightly around his thick cock. “Fuck me, please.”

“Love it when you beg me, Y/N,” if not for the pressure he builds in your core with every sloppy thrust, you would gladly slap his face. “Love it, even more, when you moan my name.”

“Dean, fuck,” one hand cups the back of your neck to hold you forcefully down, the other grips the edge of the table. Dean speeds up, ignores his phone started to ring moments ago. “Dean, the phone.”

“Later, sweetheart,” his moans turn louder, and you swear, it’s the most erotic sound you ever heard. You don’t know how the sex feels to Dean but the way he calls out your name gives away he enjoys it as much as you do.

“It won’t stop ringing,” he’s angrily grasping for the phone, to yell at anyone who dared to disturb him. “Dean…”

“Shit give me just a minute,” you feel the knot tightening, ready to snap anytime when Dean speeds up once again. “I need to tell you something,” he pants, dropping the phone onto the table. “I guess you’ll not like it.”

“Make me cum and we can talk about anything, Dean,” falling hard you rest your head onto the table. “Come on, Winchester. Give it to me good.”

Dean groans at your words, not needing more encouragement to fill you with his sticky cum. He’s fast to pull out.

“Promise me to not get mad.” You cock a brow when Dean removes the tie, offering you a sly smile.

“What did you do, Winchester?” He’s grinning cheekily whilst he hands you his jacket to cover your modesty. “Dean?”

“You see…erm-uh,” he coughs, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you remember Vegas a few years ago?”

“Vague. I know we woke in a bed…with Sam,” you hum, closing your eyes. “I think it was a hot mess back then. Why do you bring Sammy up?”

“Well, it’s kinda – whew, there is no good way to tell you,” eyes narrowed you fist Dean’s shirt to bring him to your eye level.

“Jesus, tell me what’s wrong. I’m freaking tired and want to drive home, maybe smear more cake onto my husband and lick it off,” Dean huffs, glancing at you. “Dean, you are scaring me.”

“Okay…let me tell you what happened in Vegas didn’t stay in Vegas. Somehow, and I don’t know how it happened, you did not only fuck me and Sammy, but you also married my brother. The marriage never got anulled, and this means you are still married to my brother,” Dean gasps for air when he finally stops talking. “Sorry.”

“What the…?” you blink a few times. “Wait…what? I’m married to Sam?” Dean nods, not missing the dirty grin on your lips. “Does this mean I can have both of you? I always dreamed of having a harem…”

Dean’s jaw drops when you grasp for his phone to send the video he made to Sam.

“Ruby said he can go to hell. I think my baby brother is lonely and heartbroken. Sammy is at your daddy’s house. Imagine, having us both in your room for daddy to hear…” Dean can barely end his line before you drag him out of the ballroom.

“This is the best wedding ever…”

SPN Forever Tags

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

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

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@tranquility-or-chaos​​​

@jxackles​​​

@michellemxndes​​​

@addictedtofictionalcharacters​​​

@gabifernandessn​​​

@waywardrose13​​​

@team-free-will-you-idjiot​​​

@myopiamystical​​​

@rintheemolion​​​

@bluecornflowers​​​

@rosalynshields​​​

@nihilismworld​​​

@peaches007​​

[bangtanreadingcorner]

all my tomorrow’s • min yoongi

plot – yoongi gets it in his head that you wouldn’t stand by him through just about anything, so you help him remember.

words – 2.6K

“Hey, can we talk?” Yoongi asks when you two walked out of your ensuite bathroom, having just taken a shower together. You were going to make some tea and then cuddle in bed, watching a movie or a series.

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” You grinned at him, towel drying your hair over your shoulder.

“So, my surgery is coming up in a few days.” He started, clearly nervous, sitting on the edge of your shared bed in a shirt and flannel pants.

You frowned a little, not sure where exactly he’s heading with this conversation, but you nod anyway. “I know. Three days, to be exact.”

He hums, then looks at you, gripping the sheets. “What I’m trying to say is, these next few months, they’re not gonna be easy, so, I’d understand if you want to take a break.”

You looked at him, watching as he lowered his head, wondering how he could have possibly come up with this ridiculous idea. Maybe he was joking. When he didn’t say anything else, and you realised that he was being dead serious, you scoffed.

“You’re a real fucking idiot, you know that?” You said, completely serious. He looked up at that, eyes widening in surprise but there was relief on his face too.

“I’m just giving you the option.” He defended.

You clicked your tongue at him, offended. “Well, I never asked for it.”

He sighed gently, voice low when he spoke. “This isn’t what you signed up for.”

You turned away from him, trying to suppress the urge to scream at him. Maybe you could get one of the other members to beat some sense into him. Definitely not Jeongguk, the maknae would take it a bit too literal.

You sighed, taking a deep breath before turning to face your idiot. “Yoongi, why do you think I’m with you?”

“Because you love me.” He answered without hesitation and you felt relieved that he knew at least that much.

“Great, so you know.” You deadpanned, the smile on your face edging on sharp. “Now, can you please explain to me why I would want a break from our relationship when you would need my support most?” You glared at him slightly.

“Because I will be in pain, and difficult and I will need to do P.T and I will probably be short tempered.” Yoongi blurted and you felt anger starting to stir inside of you.

“Did it ever occur to you that I might want to be there despite that? That I want to take care of you while you heal?” You asked, voice a little heated.

His silence was more than enough of an answer.

“Jesus Christ.” You felt a little defeated, anger washing away and tears stinging your eyes. “Five years, Yoongi. Five fucking years we’ve been together. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“I’m sorry, I just thought you might want to sit this one out.” He shrugged, looking a little guilty.

“Heaven and hell, good and bad – that’s what we promised each other. Do you remember?” You looked him in the eyes, hoping the memory flashed to the surface for him as it did for you.

Two years ago:

“I want to marry you.” Yoongi said while you two were walking hand in hand on a secluded beach somewhere in Turkey. You couldn’t remember the name.

You tilted your head at him, a warm smile on your face, skin golden under the light of the setting sun. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“I’m telling you.” He said firmly. “Let’s get married. Tonight.”

You wanted to laugh, but one look at his serious face had you stopping in your tracks. “Are you insane?”

“Insanely in love with you, yeah, but that’s besides the point.” Yoongi waved you off. “So, what do you say?”

“What about your fans and your members?” You asked, throat feeling dry and your heart beat speeding up because the longer you thought about it, the more you wanted it. Yoongi being your husband.

Husband.

The thought was a little dizzying.

Yoongi stepped in front of you, taking hold of your hands. “We don’t have to make it public. It’s just a piece of paper anyways, and it’s not like your surname would change like in other countries if we did sign papers, so what’s the point? Marriage is more than a piece of paper. Years ago, people didn’t sign any papers and they were still married, so why can’t we do it? As for the guys, they know. They’ve known since I looked at rings in Hawaii a year ago.”

“A year ago?” You echoed, grip on his hands tightening. “You’ve really thought about this.”

“I have.” Yoongi nodded in agreement. “I asked the others earlier and they’ll be witnesses for us. We can do it right here.” He gestured to the beach you were walking on.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the looks on the guys' faces suddenly made sense when Yoongi asked you to go for a walk on the beach earlier. “Well, I mean, I do have that white dress Hoseok bought for me as an early birthday present yesterday.”

Yoongi smiled at you, eyes twinkling as he gave you a pointed look. You gasped, tears finally rolling past the brims of your eye banks. “Oh my God, that was actually from you?”

When he nodded, you let out a half-laugh, half-sob. “I know it’s not exactly what you’d consider a traditional wedding dress, but I thought it would do nicely.”

“It’s perfect.” You assured him.

His eyes lit up, “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, I’ll marry you.” You nodded, another tear rolling down your cheek.

He pulled something out of his pocket, a ring. An engagement ring. You gasped again, "Where did you even get that?"

"My mom bought it for me a few months ago." Yoongi admitted with a shy smile. "I would have done it myself, but then I would have trended on Twitter five minutes later." He said, taking your hand and slipping the ring on your finger.

The next few hours went by in a blur as you showered, did your hair and then pulled on your dress, forgoing shoes because it was a beach wedding, after all. You felt so giddy at the thought that you let out a squeak of happiness. Finally, there was a knock on the sliding door that lead outside to the beach. You opened it and grinned at the person at the other side.

“Hey Hoseok.” You stepped aside and let your oldest friend in. He was wearing a white button up and white dress pants that were rolled up to his ankles, also barefoot.

“Wow, you look really beautiful, Y/N.” He gave you his sunny smile and you felt a little less nervous.

“Thank you.” You told him, sincerely. “For everything.” Because he was the one who introduced you to Yoongi. Sure, it was to the whole band at the time, wanting them to know his best friend in the whole world. You and Hoseok grew up together in Gwangju, next door neighbours and best friends from the first play date your mother’s arranged. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have never met Yoongi.”

“Ah, it was nothing.” He waved you off with that cheery grin of his. “You two did all of the hard work, nearly killed each other too.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, “We weren’t that bad.”

“Yes, you were.” Hoseok said with a serious look on his face. “Yoongi-hyung thought you weren’t interested and you thought he hated you because he almost always left the room the second you came in, when he was just really shy around you.”

“We figured it out eventually, didn’t we?” You pouted.

“Only because we locked you in a room together and wouldn’t let you guys out until you talked to each other.” Hoseok pointed out.

“Eh, semantics.” You two giggled and when you called down, you looked at him seriously. “Hoseok-ah, can I ask you a favour?”

“Anything.” He said and meant it. Yoongi often joked and said that you and Hoseok were like Jimin and Taehyung – soulmates. He also said that you’d probably murder and cover up a murder for each other.

Personally, you like to think that neither you or Hoseok are that violent.

“So, we’ve known each other since we were six months old, we went to school together and did everything we could together and if there is any truth in soulmates like Jimin and Taehyung believe, then I’d like to think that you are mine. So, Jung Hoseok, partner of my soul and best friend of my life, will you walk me to the beach and give me away?” You looked at him.

“Yes, I’d be honoured.” He nodded, eyes shining with tears like yours did. And so he did, he walked you down the makeshift isle to the beach where Yoongi was standing with the rest of the band.

You’d have like your parents to be here but it’s okay, they are here in spirit, having given Yoongi their blessing long ago.

Yoongi and the rest of the guys were dressed exactly the same as Hoseok, white button up and dress pants, rolled up to their ankles.

“I’d say take care of her, hyung, but that’s all you’ve ever done.” Hoseok said with a bright, teary smile as he gave your hand to Yoongi.

Namjoon would be ‘officiating’, so he stood with his back facing the ocean, while the rest of them stood on the other side of you and Yoongi, looking at the ocean and you and Yoongi looked at each other, holding hands.

“I’m not exactly sure how this works, but I’ll try.” Namjoon said, causing all of you to chuckles. “We are all here to celebrate the union of Yoongi-hyung and Y/N. They didn’t have the easiest road but they got here, with hard work and being dedicated to each other. Yoongi-hyung said they wanted to do their own vows.”

Yoongi nodded, smiling at you. “Ladies, first.”

“I didn’t have time to write something, so I’ll just speak from the heart. Yoongi, my love, my heart. There is so many things I could say to you, comparisons I could make and metaphors I could use but in the end, they could never fully explain everything I feel for you and they all add up to the same thing: I love you. And I will love you for as long as there is breath in my lungs and even after. Heaven or hell, I’ll pick whatever road you take. Good times and bad times, I’ll be by your side. For all my tomorrow's.”

Yoongi was smiling that gummy smile at you, the one you fell for the first time you saw it. “Y/N, that was beautiful and I loved it. I hope you like mine. I’ve been thinking about vows for a while now, knowing that I’d want to say something to you. And in the end I realised that there is nothing I could say here, today, that I haven’t already said and will say again to you, so instead I’ll tell you a secret you’ve always wanted to know – how I fell in love with you. The first time I saw you, I knew there was something about you. It wasn’t until a few months later, when you came over for dinner and laughed with Hoseok about something Jeonggukie did, one of those belly deep laughs, and I couldn’t take my eyes off you, that it finally hit me. I was falling in love with you. And everyday since then, I’ve been falling. And like you said, heaven or hell, good or bad, I’ll always love you and I’ll always be by your side.”

You both turned to Namjoon, who smiled at you, dimples showing. “I guess asking if you’ll always be there for each other is kind of moot now, huh?” You laughed a little, feeling so full love that you might actually combust.

Namjoon looked at you, “So, Y/N, do you take Yoongi-hyung as your husband?”

“I do.” You grinned.

“Yoongi-hyung, do you take Y/N as your wife?”

“I do.”

“In that case, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Present Day:

You looked at him, eyes searching desperately to see if he could still remember your vows from your wedding.

“I’ll always remember.” He looked at you softly, and so full of love, like he always does.

You walked to him, until you were right in front of him. His eyes followed you. Your voice was quiet and full of hurt when you asked him, “Then why would you tell me something like that?”

Yoongi took your hands and pulled you closer until you climbed onto his lap, straddling him with your knees. He rested his forehead against yours. “Because I’m an idiot who is hopelessly in love with you and I’m still terrified that one day this life is going to be too much for you and you’ll leave.”

“At least we can both agree on that – you’re an idiot.” You told him in a whisper. “But you’re my idiot.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, but if you ever say something like that to me again, I will withhold sex for a month.” You threatened seriously.

“Just a month?” He teased. Both of you’ve gone longer without physically touching each other when he’s been on tour.

“There’s only so long I can resist you.” You admitted, cheeks heating up a bit. “Especially when you are in my immediate vicinity.”

“Like that time you jumped me when I stepped through our door after a world tour?” He gave you a smug look.

You sighed, “Oh, not this again. I didn’t jump you.”

“Okay, fine, you didn’t jump, you leaped into my arms.” He snickered.

You pouted, “To give you a welcome home hug.”

“And remind me again, what did we do right after that hug?” He raised a brow.

“As far as I remember, you were a very willing participant.” You grumbled.

“Never said I wasn’t.” Your husband said. You glared at him.

Yoongi chuckles, the sound making you melt as he leaned closer and kissed you. You kissed him back, not hesitating. You loved being kissed by him. His tongue asked for entrance and you granted it, moaning into his mouth when he thoroughly explored your mouth with his tongue. When you pulled apart for air, Yoongi went for your neck, kissing, biting and licking wherever his lips touched, setting your skin on fire, blood roaring through your veins.

His hands moved up your bare thighs, fingers nudging the seam of your pyjama shorts.

Something occurred to you in your desire filled mind, want slowly drowning out any coherent thought.

“How’s your-” You cut yourself off as he gave a particularly hard suck on your pulse point and you knew there would be marks.

“How’s your shoulder?” You finally asked – gasping in pleasure when his teeth scraped the sensitive skin, eyes fluttering shut – the knowledge of Yoongi being in pain would be enough to douse the fire inside you.

The next moment you were on your back, eyes opening to see Yoongi looking down at you with wicked grin, a hand on each side of your head. “It’s fine. I haven’t had any pain today, you know that.”

“Just checking.” You said with a pointed look as you wrapped your arms around his waist, slipping your arms beneath his shirt. The look was to remind him of that time when he didn’t tell any of his members that he was in pain during a practice and passed out from pain.

“Yes, mom.” He rolled his eyes.

You pinched his waist with a light huff, “Fuck you.”

“Oh, trust me,” Yoongi smirked, eyes full of intent. “You will.”

the end.

[staarkindustries]

They just don't know you

Ransom isn’t exactly what your parents wanted for you, but who are they to stopping you to love him?

Words:

Warnings: swearing, fluff

Daddy doesn't think that you'll be good enough for me

Mama says be careful 'cause he'll break your heart in three

They don't walk in my shoes

They ain't being kissed by you

My sister says she doesn't like the way you wear your hair

But I know that she's jealous so why would I even care?

I have to lie about

How good you make me feel

Ransom walked towards Y/N’s house, his grin plastered on his face as always. He heard someone screaming, so he decided to listen, wanting to understand what was happening. “He is no good!” “Dad, can you...” “He murdered someone, Y/N.” Her mother told her and Ransom sighed. “And he dress like an idiot.” “Okay, you know what? Dad, you can’t tell me what to do and who I can and can not be with. I know he murdered someone, but he has changed and I trust him. And he doesn’t dress like an idiot, he dress like someone who has style, I know it’s difficult for you to undrestand that word, but please, just shut up and go away from my house. All of you. I don’t need my family to judge every step I make.”

So oh oh

Tell me, tell me you won't break my heart

You won't tear my world apart

That you'll be there when I need

'Cause I wanna tell them

They just don't know you

They just don't know you

They just don't know you

They don't know you like I do

“You heard that, right?” Y/N asked, throwing herself on the couch and covering her face with her hands. “It’s not our fault sweetheart, everyone is gonna judge us, you know that. But you know, that outburst you had was hella hot.” “I can’t stand you.” “You fucking love me, sweetheart.” He said, sitting next to her, before placing her on his legs. “I do. I really do. I don’t care what my family says about you.” “I know baby.” They kissed and Y/N finally relaxed after that horrible day. “Thank you Ran, I needed this.” “I could tell. Bedroom?” “Perv... Let’s go.” Y/N giggled when Ransom stood up with her in his arms and started kissing her while he walked towards her room.

They just don't know you (They don't know)

They just don't know you (They don't know)

They just don't know you, like I do

"We should go on a vacation or something like this. Just to get away from our parents." "Yeah, it would be great." He said, caressing her cheek while she was still trying to breath properly again. "Tomorrow we'll look for some places, now sleep sweetheart." “I love you.” “And I love you.”

Talk is cheap and rumors spread but they go with the wind

It's not about she said he's sick 'cause I know where it ends

I know the real truth

And the real truth is you

“Here we are sweetheart.” “I really wanna know why your parents are so disgusted by our vacation. Okay, I get why my family hate you, cause you are not that funny or easy to be loved...” Y/N joked, while Ransom rolled his eyes. “Well thank you darling.” “You love me, I’m the one in this relationship that is easy to be loved.” “I know you’re joking, but you’re right.” “Cutie.” “Yeah, whatever.”

It's funny 'cause at times it feels like us against the world

They treat you like a criminal but I'll still be your girl

I'd ride or die with you

Walk the line if you asked me to

“Ran, can you bring me the sunscreen?” “Remember me why you don’t want a maid?” He asked, walking towards her.  “Cause we are adults capable of bring people the sunscreen, cook and clean. At least, I am.” “How funny love.” “I’ve noticed a thing recently.” “What is it?” Ransom asked, putting sunscreen on Y/N’s back. “You never call me by my name.” “Well, you actually never call me Ransom neither.” “You want me to start?” “No, you are the only one that doesn’t call me Ransom, Hugh or son of a bitch.” Y/N smiled and nodded, putting an hand on the smooth skin of Ransom’s shoulder. She knew she was the closest one to know what was costantly going on in his head and she knew how much a nickname, as strange as it was, meant to him. “I can start if you want, Ransom.” “Eat shit Y/N.” She giggled and kissed him “Let’s go to the beach, you grumpy man.” “As you wish.” He said, faking a bow.

So oh oh

Tell me, tell me you won't break my heart

You won't tear my world apart

That you'll be there when I need

“I never had a vacation this relaxing.” The girl looked at him, tilting her head. “I always went with my family and... You know, they are not the apotheosis of relax.” “Yes, I think I know something about it.” She joked, before leaning towards him to kiss his cheek. “It’s beautiful here, thank you.” Ransom smiled when Y/N turned around watching the sight in front of them. He put his hand in the pocket, fiddling with the small box in it. He sighed and took the hand that his gilr was offering, then started walking with her on the beach. 

'Cause I wanna tell them

They just don't know you

They just don't know you

They just don't know you

They don't know you like I do

They just don't know you (They don't know)

They just don't know you (They don't know)

They just don't know you, like I do

“So, there is one more thing.” “Ran, we just came from a really expencive restaurant and you didn’t tell me how much we spent, and we had the most amazing sex we had in the past three year. You really are trying to soften me up.” “Yes, for this thing.” “I already said I don’t want to...” “It’s not that! Love, please let me talk.” He said, chuckling nervously and looking at her. “Okay so, uhm... I love you, and you know it. You make me feel so fucking in love and sometimes I think I’m really being stupid when I found myself smiling while you cook or while you sleep.” He sighed, then got on a knee.

“But that’s the effect you have on me. I love you and I’ve never thought that I would want this, but I wanna marry you. I wanna grow old with you, it’s like... No I don’t want it babe, I need it. So... Will you marry me?” “I... I wasn’t expecting this.” “It’s okay if you don’t want, I know that...” “Yes, I will marry you Ran. Do you really think I don’t want it?” “Oh thank God.” “Put that ring on my finger and come back on the bed.” “Your wish is my command, Mrs. Drysdale.”

But when will I try to

They just don't know you

You don't know about our love

You choose what you see

'Cause if you felt the way we love

You'd just let it be

You don't know about the times

When it's just him and me

'Cause if you felt the way we love

You'd just let it be

“You are gonna marry that idiot?!” Y/N’s mother asked. “Yes, and I don’t really care if you and dad don’t wanna come.” “And who is gonna walk you down the aisle?” Her father said, smugly. “I am. I don’t need you to have a good wedding. It’s just me and Ransom.” She said, walking away from the house she grew up in, the house that wasn’t feeling like her home anymore.

Tell me, tell me you won't break my heart

You won't tear my world apart

That you'll be there when I need (when I need)

'Cause I wanna tell them

They just don't know you

They just don't know you

They just don't know you

They don't know you like I do

They just don't know you (They don't know)

They just don't know you (They don't know)

They just don't know you, like I do

[smol-and-grumpy]

Light My Fire - CH04

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: A dash of anxiety, confusion, fluff, teasing

WC: 2667

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​ <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST

When they arrived at the venue, they had to wait in the limousine line for the people to move along, one after the other. It takes longer because of the photographers and interviews the guests are holding on the red carpet. 

Dean senses her anxiety and grabs at her hand. He threads his fingers through hers, his thumb massaging at the back of her hand, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She says, even though her mouth feels dry and her heart is near exploding. She’s really not made for the spotlight. 

It’s moving quicker than she thought it would and then suddenly, she feels him squeezing her hand, “Ready?”

She takes a deep breath and nods. Dean nods back with a small smile. Maybe it’s just her imagination but she thinks that he’s nervous himself.

Someone pulls the door open and Dean gets out first, she looks out from the car, sees how he stands there, buttoning up his suit jacket, nodding at the photographers with a big smile decorating his face. He’s used to it, she can tell. When he finishes buttoning up, he holds out a hand for her, and she knows that it’s her cue to get out as well. 

Immediately, she’s blinded by the flashlights. Oh god, it’s worse than she thought it would be. She tries to smile as Dean weaves his arms around her waist, guides her towards where more photographers and interviewers are waiting. 

“You’re doing great,” He whispers through his smile.

“I hope you know where we’re going because I can’t see,” She whispers back and Dean has to laugh at that. 

He walks her to a marked spot and they stand there, intertwined. Reporters are shouting Dean’s name and she really doesn’t know how he can still keep his cool. She’d like to yell at them for being so loud and shouting out all at the same time. It makes her head spin.

“Who’s that beautiful woman by your side, Mr. Winchester?” Someone yells out from the back.

“That’s my beautiful wife.” Dean’s voice is equally loud and he looks down at her, smiling a warm smile, his hand around her waist as he pulls her a little closer to his body. 

At the mention of the word wife everyone seems to gasp and the flashes stopped for a second.

“How long have you been married and how come you never brought her to events before?” A female reporter asks.

“Yesterday marked one month, and my wife is a private person, she doesn’t like being the center of attention.” 

She nods at that.

“How did you two meet?” One reporter shouts.

Dean chuckles with a boyish smirk, “She literally bumped into me in the streets and I was a goner since.”

“Tell us more!” The reporter asks.

“I don’t think we have that kind of time,” Dean jokes, and grins smugly.

“Mrs. Winchester, would you consider yourself lucky to be married to the sexiest business tycoon?”

Y/N seizes her opportunity, chuckles a little, “I would consider him to be lucky that he’s married to me,” She says and places her hand on Dean’s chest, looking up to him lovingly. Dean smiles down at her, the crinkles around his eyes deep. She makes sure that the hand on his chest is her left one, they can all see the rings.

“I love your dress!” One photographer shouts out.

“Thank you,” She replies, feeling a little proud.

Dean nods his agreement, “A dream in gold, isn’t she?”

“Can you two share a kiss for us?” A photographer yells out and several of his kind agree loudly.

Dean looks down, he smiles but he raises an eyebrow at her, as if to ask if it’s okay. She winks at him and his eyes go wide as his smile gets warmer before he lowers his face to hers. 

She’s prepared for a kiss but not for her heart to jump as soon as his lips touches hers. 

Y/N instantly turns to putty in his embrace and when Dean breaks the kiss and looks her in the eyes, she sees them glistening. Just when she thinks their moment is over, he dives in again, kisses her a little bit harder, his tongue teasing at her bottom lip and she grins into the kiss, parting her lips a little more to grant him access. His taste fills her mouth, it’s minty fresh, and her arms move up to lock behind his head, fingers thread through his short hair. He pulls her tighter towards him, melting his body to hers. She can feel his heart beating against her chest. His hands move down her back, until he grabs a handful of her ass.

“Okay, we got it!” Someone shouts and that’s the cue to stop. That’s the jerk that pulled them back to reality.

They part but Dean leaves his hand on her waist. When she looks at him, she can see the pink in his cheek, the red of his lips. She probably doesn’t look any different. Her hands go up to his lips, brushes away at them to clean them from excess wetness and he does the same for her, fingertips ghosting over her lips and it takes everything for her not to suck them in and make the situation awkward.

“If you two lovebirds could give us room for the next guest?” A woman wearing a headset comes and leads them towards the entrance. 

The moment is over.

They sit down at their table and it seems like Dean knows everyone here. He introduces her as his wife and she shakes more hands than she ever has in her lifetime.

When the meal comes, she complains about the too tiny portion, which prompts Dean to laugh out loud, saying it’s a relief that finally someone voices their opinion. He can’t stop laughing even if it isn’t even that funny? She hasn’t eaten and this is just making her grumpy.

“Dean, people are staring,” She says as one woman at their table clears her throat audibly.

Dean’s laughter dies down after her warning and he leans closer to whisper to her, “I don’t really care about those people. Can you hold on a little longer? There’s going to be dessert and if you’re still hungry, we can go and grab something on the way home, okay?”

“Okay,” She says, picks at her food and in two mouthful, it is already gone.

“Hello Dean,” A voice makes both of them turn around.

“Hey, Crowley,” Dean greets the man, stands up to shake his hand so she gets up as well. 

Crowley smiles, stares at her and back to Dean, “Another month, another woman, I see?”

“Oh,” Dean shakes his head, chuckles softly, “This one stays. I put a ring on her.”

“Did you? Lovely! Congratulations!” 

Y/N gives the men space to talk business and excuses herself to go to the bathroom. 

When she walks out, Dean’s waiting right outside, back leaning against the wall. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks and Dean grins when he sees her, pulls her to the side and walks with her a couple of feet away where nobody could see.

“Look, I’m sorry about Crowley,” He apologizes and she has to frown because she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Dean sighs, “The comment? You know? The woman of the month?”

“Oh,”

“I don’t want you to thin—”

“—Dean, it doesn’t matter what I think.” She interrupts him. Of course she knows about the women. She sometimes has to buy them flowers or book tables at restaurants. She’s not an idiot. Dean’s good looking and he’s single, he has the right to date around, “You're notorious for having a different girl on your arm all the time. You think I don’t already know that? I’m your assistant, believe me, I know.”

“It may be true that I take them out to social gatherings but it doesn’t mean that I’m fucking all of them.” Dean hisses, and she knows that he wants to keep his voice down.

She cocks an eyebrow and grins, “So, only some of them then.”

“Jesus,” Dean rubs over his scruff.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me,” She says, and adds, “Do we need to go over a story so that we’re telling the same one?”

“Maybe we should,” Dean says and he places his hand around her waist, pulls her further away from the gathering until they are standing in a hallway next to the kitchen. She stands with her back against the wall while Dean crowds her in, shielding her from prying eyes.

“What do you say when someone asks how you fell for me?” She asks him, and she doesn’t know why her heart’s beating so fast.

Dean looks at her then, his gaze is intense, it makes something flutter in her stomach. His thumb comes up to brush against her bottom lip, “Your smile. You have a beautiful smile.”

She has to swallow hard at that, “And how did I fall for you?” 

Dean chuckles, leans down a little more, his lips ghosting over hers, “I can be persistent. I came to your work and showed up every day until you said yes. It’s not even a lie,” he kisses her and it’s so soft, too. She almost has to whimper. He grins, kisses her again, equally soft and gentle. 

He’s still grinning when he parts, “Come on, let’s go to the bar.”

Taking her hand, he pulls her away to the front again, and leads her towards the bar.

“But dessert,” She says, a little disappointed that she’ll miss it.

Dean laughs and places his hand around her waist, pulls her close and kisses her temple, “I think it’s going to be some weird marzipan shit anyway. It’s not worth it. I’ll feed you when this is all over, okay?”

Y/N sighs and rolls her eyes, “Fine!”

He grins at that, pulls her closer to kiss her cheek, “That’s my girl— oh no!” His grip tightens on her hips.

“What?” She tilts her head to ask him and notices his lips pressed into a thin line. When she looks back ahead, she sees what he is looking at.

He is looking at them.

Chuck and Amara.

“Did you know they were going to be here?” She asks curiously.

“No, I didn’t.” He hisses through gritted teeth.

“Dean!” Chuck greets his new business partner.

“Chuck,” Dean says, tries to stay professional and then he turns to the woman and nods at her, “Amara.” Dean clears his throat, “This is my wife, Y/N.”

She holds out her hand and Chuck takes it, lowers his face to kiss the back of it, “I thought he was just making shit up,” Chuck chuckles, “But look at you, you’re real. It’s nice meeting you, Y/N.”

When she holds out her hand to Amara, the woman doesn’t even acknowledge her. Her lips are thin. “Your marriage is fucking fake Dean, and you know it!”

Y/N’s jaw drops, “Excuse me?”

“Oh, please,” Amara turns to her, “We all know that he’s not married! And now suddenly he has a wife? I am his wife!”

“I—” She starts to speak.

“—Don’t you dare talk to my wife like that.” Dean’s loud, it makes everyone around him flinch. And then he hisses, “I don’t even know what happened alright? All I know is that I woke up the next day with a marriage certificate propped up on my fucking nightstand.”

“Don’t think you can get away with it, Dean,” Amara’s fuming, Y/N can tell, “My lawyer is talking to Sam. He’s still waiting for that court date to annul our marriage, isn’t he? I’m sorry to say but if you want out, I want more money or else I’ll sue. And I’ll win.” Amara storms off before she or Dean can say more.

Chuck stays, though. He keeps his cool. “Don’t mind her,” Chuck says, “She’s just not used to not getting the things she wants. I’m on your side. If you’ll excuse me,” Chuck pushes himself away from the bar to greet someone else but not without turning back before he leaves, “We’re still on for that dinner?”

“Yeah, we are.” Dean says, lifts his hand for a salute.

“Wow,” She turns to the bar and the bartender comes around and asks her what she would like, “Do you have shots of tequila?”

The bartender nods with a smile. 

“Then two please.” She holds out two fingers and Dean raises his eyebrows to which she just shrugs.

The shots are placed in front of her and Dean reaches out for one which makes her swat at his hand. 

“Hey!”

She chuckles, “Who said they were for you? Get your own drink!”

Dean laughs, loud and sharp. “You’re something else, you know that?” He kisses her temple before he orders a whiskey and watches her drink her two shots.

“What did Chuck mean by he’s on our side?” She asks Dean and he sips his glass.

“Chuck wants Amara out. He just doesn’t have the money to buy her shares from her. He’s about to do anything that would get her to hand over the shares to a reasonable price but she wants double for it.” Dean says in a low voice, “That’s why he was on board when I showed interest. He wants to slowly push Amara out.”

“She sounds greedy,”

“That’s because she is.”

*

Meeting Amara kind of put a damper on the evening that has started more than alright. They’re sitting in the limousine, neither of them talking for a long while. It’s Dean who breaks the silence first. 

“Are you still hungry?”

“Ugh, I kind of lost my appetite.” She sighs.

“Yeah, that happens every time I see Amara,” Dean chuckles tiredly. 

They return to silence. She’s looking out the window, and starts to count passing streetlights to pass the time and silence.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Dean says after a while.

Looking at him, she sees him smiling at her softly. How he can still manage to smile is beyond her. 

“Aren’t you scared that she’ll get what she wants?” 

“Is that why you’re so upset?” 

“Duh!”

“Hey,” Dean’s hand finds hers, he squeezes it, “Don’t worry about it, okay? We just keep on doing what we do. Sammy is good at what he does. All Amara has are empty threats, she’s got nothing on us.”

Us.

He says it so easily. It might be weird but she likes the sound of it.

Dean leaves his hand on hers the whole way back and takes it again when they get out of the limo and ride the elevator up in silence. 

Once inside, he lets go of her and that’s okay and not okay at the same time. She’s confused and she doesn’t even know why. All she knows is that she feels things she shouldn’t.

“I’m going to bed,” She says and he probably will too, because tomorrow is a work day and it’s already late.

“Okay,” Dean takes a step closer to her, reaches out to touch her, fingertips ghosting over her arm, “You did great today. I haven’t had that much fun at an event for a long time.” 

“It was my pleasure,” She replies, smiles a tired smile.

Dean takes another step closer and he’s so close  again. She tries not to think about their kiss but that’s impossible because it’s the only thing she can think about right now. He weaves both his arms around her waist, pulls her closer and places a kiss on her forehead, “Good night, Y/N.”

She nods, and takes a step away from him, keeps her head down to hide the fact that she’s beet red, and walks to her room with an extra sway of her hips (just because she can). She turns around at the corner to see him smirking at her. 

CH05

[lauwrite1225]

There’s something in your eyes. || Alexander Stewart x OC

PART 1.

For the sake of Scotland, Eileen Douglas is to marry the young Alexander Stewart, a marriage none of them wanted.

Eileen was standing perfectly right on the stairs of Bothwell Castle. Her mother snapped her hand when she tried to pull the skirt of her dress, trying to make herself more comfortable in her tight corset. 

“Don’t fuss.” Her mother glared at her and Eileen had to do her best to not roll her eyes. 

Instead she kept staring at the horizon where horsemen were approaching. She could count ten, all wearing the Stewart tartan. The closer they were, the more she could notice her brother William’s face twist with disgust. The small group passed the gates and her father walked down the stairs quickly to welcome them. A first man climbed down from his horse graciously. He had a huge smile on his face as he saluted her father, but it seemed to repulse William even more as he mumbled curses in Gaelic. The two men walked toward them and Eileen felt her mother’s hand in her back, prompting her to climb down the stairs. When she found herself face to face with Stewart she offered him her most beautiful smile, one her mother could be proud of after teaching her how to look pleased even when she wasn’t. But she hadn’t to fake it that much, the man in front of her actually seeming sympathetic. 

She grabbed the skirt of her dress and lightly curtseyed. “Duke.”

“Lady Eileen. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.” He smiled. 

“The pleasure is shared.” And she could easily imagine the thunder in her brother’s eyes as she spoke.

A Douglas having to meet a Stewart was never for pleasure. Both clans hated each other for generations and even more since the Douglas decided to betray King James IV. Eileen was just a bairn when her uncle planned his alliance with the English King, but somehow, she became the symbol of the peace between the two clans. As well for the man she would marry. It was King James’ decision that she would marry his cousin, the Duke of Albany’s younger brother, and as she detailed the young Duke’s expression, she thought maybe the Stewarts weren’t the turds William liked to call them. 

“Let me introduce you to my brother, Alexander.” The Duke stepped aside and with a wave of his hand designated a young man still holding his horse’s reins. 

The younger Stewart was tall, his tartan making his shoulders even larger. With a nonchalant pace he joined them. He stopped next to his brother and Eileen and they silently judged each other. His brown eyes were similar to two endless holes so gloomy were they. His hair was as dark and seemed unruleble while a thin and uncertain beard started to cover his jaws and cheeks. 

"Lady Eileen." He muttered, saying her name seemed to be a great effort for him. 

This time, her smile couldn't be faker. "Lord Stewart." She replied, pronouncing each syllable as she was spitting to his face. 

Their interaction didn't last longer, her father inviting them to enter the castle to eat. The meal was rather calm, John Stewart being almost the only one speaking. He seemed pretty comfortable and even happy to be here, as if he wasn’t at the same table as former traitors. William liked to claim that what their uncle did was for the good of Scotland, that Stewarts were just a lineage of bastards, but Eileen knew they were the one who betrayed a King. And no matter how much William would insult the Stewarts, Douglass were the traitors. 

If that fact didn’t prevent John from enjoying the lunch, she couldn’t tell the same of her betrothed. Alexander was silent, stabbing his food as a pouting child. She found it amusing, and could have even found it  endearing if he wasn’t sending murderous glares at William. However, her brother wasn’t innocent , his piercing blue eyes giving back the threat gladly. 

At some point, her father cleared his throat and stood up. All eyes were on him as he raised his cup. “To my daughter and her future husband.” He declared turning toward Eileen and then Alexander who had made the effort to look less unhappy, if it was even truly possible. “And may this alliance be a new beginning for our two clans.”

John stood up as well and clinked his glass with her father’s. “To a new beginning.”

…

“You are a surprisingly good company.” Eileen smiled as she walked in the garden beside Alexander. He looked down at her dubiously. “What? I like the silence.” She smirked. 

He huffed and continued to walk. It was the second day the Stewarts were spending in Bothwell Castle and her mother had asked her to try to sympathize with the young man. But she found it hard to be nice with a man who wasn’t even talking to her. 

"You know, we are going to be married for what is going to be a long time. Maybe we should try to at least know each other." She proposed, doing her best to not sound rude. 

"I didn't want to marry." He grumbled, his foot kicking in a stone. 

"See ? We have at least one common point." She smirked again.

Alexander suddenly stopped in front of her, leaning slightly over her, and she realized how taller he was compared to her. She pinched her lips, her eyes not leaving his despite how threatening they were. 

"Don't you think because you're a bonny lass I'll forget you're a fucking Douglas whore." 

He had barely finished his sentence, Eileen slapped his face hard. He didn't expect that, his hand rubbing his already red cheek. "I'm not a whore and do not ever call me like that or I'll cut off your balls." She warned him with a roar of her voice and she found herself satisfied at how he looked at her with wide eyes. 

On these words, she exaggeratedly curtseyed before leaving him on his own. She felt her chest rise and fall ragingly, anger overwhelming her. As she walked in another part of the garden, she started to hate the whole world. She hated her uncle for starting this stupid rebellion. She hated King James for having decided to marry her to Alexander. She hated her father for having accepted it obediently. But most of all : she hated Alexander for being a prick turd.

Angry tears started to irritate her eyes and she wiped them away with her palms. She wanted to join her bedroom and cursed her all existence, but God seemed to have decided otherwise. Shouts from where she was coming from caught her attention and she started to walk back. If it was possible for her to be even more in fury, well now it was. William and Alexander were now fighting in the grass like two kids. 

From the corner of her eyes, she perceived John running in their direction to separate them. The older Stewart grabbed his brother by the back of his tunic, forcing him to get up and free William. 

"Can I have an explanation?" He asked his brother who was now dusting his tartan. 

"He got slapped by a lass." William replied mockingly and it took all John's strength to prevent his brother from coming upon his opponent again. 

"That's enough!" The Duke barked before dragging Alexander away. 

Once they were gone, Eileen walked to her brother who was still sitting on the floor. He grinned at her, and she noticed he must have bitten his cheek or tongue in the fight because there was blood on his teeth. 

"I don't know why you slapped him, Sister, but that's what all those bastard Stewarts deserve." 

Eileen crouched in front of him, still silent before slapping him as well. William whined, his cheeks already hurting from the fight. He looked at her confusedly and she stood up. "You're as much an idiot than him."

…

Dinner was again very silent, but this time both Alexander and William kept their eyes away from each other. John as well was different, his smile more tended. Eileen wondered if her father had a word of what happened in the garden, she doubted William told him, he would have been furious and maybe he would have had another mark on his face. But she also doubted he didn't notice anything. William had his right eye swollen and his bottom lip cut while Alexander's cheek was almost violet of her slap and probably her brother's punch. Oh none of them looked proud of the incident.

After the dinner, a knock on the door interrupted the servant who had barely started untying the back of her dress. Eileen turned her head to Maggie and kindly asked her to see who it was. She tightened the loosened laces and finally walked to open the door slightly. 

"Lord Stewart." 

From where she stood in her bedroom, Eileen could distinguish Alexander's silhouette through the door's opening, he wasn't wearing his tartan. 

"I'd like to talk to Lady Eileen." He declared. His voice was still strong but she could hear the uncertainty in it, and it made her smile.

Maggie turned around to have some sort of answer from her mistress. Eileen waved her hand and walked toward the door. "You can leave us, Maggie. Thank you."

The young servant nodded and left them after saying she would come back later. Once she had disappeared in a corridor, she crossed her arms and stared with contempt at the once more silent Alexander. 

"What do you want?" 

"To say that I'm sorry." He grumbled and she almost wanted to laugh at how pathetic he looked. 

"Is it you who is sorry, or your brother who asked you to be ?" She asked with an annoyed raised eyebrow. 

Alexander frowned. "Does it matter ?"

Eileen tilted her head, closing her eyes in exasperation. "Yes, it does." 

He rolled his eyes and after rubbing the back of his neck, he finally spoke. "It's me. I'm sorry for calling you a whore." 

"You are pardoned." She said, thinking that making peace with him could only be a benefit. "And you said I was bonny after all." She smirked and suddenly his face turned red of uncomfort. 

And for once, he didn't look as unpleasant as usual. His eyebrows weren't furrowed and his features were rid of any tension, making him look younger. She came to the conclusion that he wasn't that bad looking with his still fascinating brown eyes. She stepped back to go back in her bedroom, but before she closed her door, she paused and with an amused smile she added :

"I am sure you have a pretty smile, Alexander."