#The tone of the guys voice told me he knew he was twisting things

[littlelamy]

could you do one where rafe and reader have known each other since they were kids. where they played pretend marriage and rafe has always believed it was real even when they were kids and some girl tries to come between that but it doesn’t happen.

love your writing

a/n: thank you so much! I hope you enjoy it! 💗🤍

rafe cameron had always been a part of your life. from the time you were toddlers, running through your backyard with imaginary crowns on your heads, to the moment you both said your pretend vows underneath that old oak tree. you were six, maybe seven, and it had been all fun and games—at least for you. rafe, on the other hand, took the "marriage" very seriously, even as kids. "you're my wife now," he’d say with a grin, tugging you along whenever someone tried to play with you. you always brushed it off as rafe just being rafe.

but now, as you stood at another one of toppers' parties, you noticed something had shifted. maybe it was the way rafe had been more possessive lately, a hand always at your waist, or the way he’d glare at any guy who got too close. then there was jessica—new girl, pretty, and definitely interested in rafe.

“so, are you and rafe, like, together?” she asked you casually one day at school, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. there was something smug in her tone that made your skin crawl.

“we’re just friends,” you said, even though the words felt wrong coming out of your mouth. were you really just friends?

"oh, that’s good to know," jessica had smirked, and you knew she had plans.

tonight, you watched from the corner of the room as she slid up to rafe, placing a hand on his arm and laughing a little too loud at something he said. your stomach twisted, but you told yourself it didn’t matter. you and rafe were just friends—childhood friends with a long history of playing pretend, but that was it. still, your feet started moving before you could stop them, weaving through the crowd toward them.

“hey, rafe,” you called out, slipping into the space between him and jessica like it was the most natural thing in the world. his eyes lit up when he saw you, that same boyish smile he’d always had whenever you were near.

“there you are,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder like it belonged there. and maybe it did.

jessica’s expression faltered for just a second before she plastered on another smile. “oh, hey. i was just telling rafe we should go out sometime. get to know each other better.”

before you could even process her words, rafe chuckled. “yeah, i’m gonna have to pass on that.”

jessica blinked, clearly thrown off. “what? why?”

rafe’s gaze softened as he looked down at you, his hand absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair. “i’m already married,” he said, his tone light but firm.

you froze, heart pounding. "rafe—"

"we got married when we were seven," he added with a grin, not giving you a chance to finish. "i’ve been off the market since then."

jessica laughed awkwardly, clearly not getting the joke. “wait, you’re serious?”

rafe shrugged, pulling you closer. “dead serious.”

it took everything in you not to laugh at the confused look on jessica’s face, but the truth was, you didn’t know if rafe was actually joking. he looked so calm, so sure of himself, like this was the most natural thing in the world. like he really did believe you were his wife, even now.

“uh, okay. whatever,” jessica muttered, clearly flustered as she backed away, shooting you a look before disappearing into the crowd.

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, looking up at rafe. “what was that?”

he raised an eyebrow. “what was what?”

“you just told her we were married!”

rafe grinned down at you, his blue eyes sparkling. “because we are. or did you forget?”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “rafe, we were kids. that doesn’t count.”

“it counts to me,” he said, his voice softening. “you promised, remember? you said you’d always be mine.”

your heart skipped a beat. “we were pretending.”

“maybe you were,” he shrugged. “but i wasn’t.”

you stared at him, unsure of what to say. all these years, you thought it was just a silly childhood game, something you both would laugh about when you got older. but rafe... he had never stopped believing it.

“rafe…” you started, but he cut you off, stepping closer so that his forehead nearly touched yours.

“you’re mine,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “and i’m yours. it’s always been that way.”

suddenly, the party seemed to fade away, the sounds of people laughing and music blaring becoming a distant hum. all you could focus on was rafe—his words, his touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

and maybe you were.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[ariestrxsh]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷content warning: smut, innocence corruption, praise, mommy kink, thigh riding, oral (m!receiving), glasses kink, loss of virginity, sub!virgin!matt, dom!reader, friends to lovers

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷🍷summary: you and matt are best friends and share everything with one another - except for what you each sound like in bed - that is, until now.

this fic was requested/inspired by this ask 💋

never lose me

"I have a question," you told your best friend Matt over dinner, leaning in closer to him and peeking up at him before you took a big bite of your pasta. You'd invited him out to celebrate a promotion you'd gotten at work, and you also wanted to ask for boy advice.

"What's up?" He asked, tearing off a piece of garlic bread and popping it into his mouth. He pushed up the bridge of his glasses as he made eye contact with you. "When you're having sex with a girl, does it bother you when she's loud?" You giggled, kind of embarrassed to ask.

"Why would that bother me?" Matt asked, his blue eyes darting around while he thought about how to answer your questions without confessing to you that he was a virgin. "I don't know. It's just this new guy I've been casually seeing. He's like, really quiet in bed. Almost makes me feel weird for being as loud as I am," you admitted.

He nodded to let you know he was listening, but behind his glazed over stare, he was thoroughly imagining all the naughty words you'd say and all the ways you'd scream whilst in the throes of ecstasy.

"He doesn't say much. He doesn't moan very much. I can't tell if I'm not satisfying him or if he's just shy," you confided in him, smoothing out your crimson dress that hugged your curves so snugly. "Well, have you tried asking him?" Matt timidly responded, studying the way your pretty red lipstick looked.

"Well, kind of. I mean, when I'm giving him head or stroking it for him, I'll ask, 'Do you like that, baby?'" You said in a seductive tone. Matt found it difficult to look you in the eye as he felt blood rushing to his appendage below his waist at the tone of voice you used. He took his napkin and subtly placed it on his lap to hide his growing erection.

"Mhmm," Matt nodded, halfway reassuring you that he was listening and halfway answering the question you'd just asked. "And he'll say it just like that, 'mhmm,' but even the way you said it sounded more convincing than when he says it. I just feel like he's not into it."

You took a sip of your red wine, your third glass of the night, leaving a lipstick print behind on the glassware. "Well, he's probably just nervous. I can't imagine he wouldn't like it when you.. do that stuff to him," Matt struggled to get out, twisting his ring like he always did when he was thinking about something.

"Are you shy in bed? I get the feeling you want to be loud, but you hold back," you lowered your volume, smirking at him. "That's none of your business!" He widened his eyes and smiled at you while he blushed. "See? You're already getting all shy on me," you laughed, taking another drink.

He nibbled on his lip and fiddled with his ring some more, and you noticed it had been a while since he touched his food. "Matty, are you okay? I didn't mean to get too personal with you or anything. I just get curious about what you're like in bed sometimes," you chuckled, reaching over and brushing your thumb against the back of Matt's hand.

Matt's gaze flickered up at yours and he raised his eyebrows in a surprised expression. "What!? You don't ever think about that kind of thing?" You replied, your cheeks turning pink. "I mean, of course I do," he laughed, hiding his face behind his hands.

"Why don't you satisfy my curiosity then and tell me how you sound?" You playfully flirted with him, slipping off your high heel and running your foot up Matt's pant leg, which turned Matt on even more. "Listen. I would have told you by now if I knew," Matt timidly replied, looking up at you for your reaction. "What do you mean?" You asked, gathering and twisting your noodles with your fork.

"I mean, I've never had sex," Matt said quietly, bracing for your reaction. He knew you weren't the type to tease him about it, but he was just so used to it by now that he was already prepared for it. You accidentally lost your grip on your fork and it fell against your plate with a loud clatter as you peered up at him once more.

"Never?" You asked with a bit of pity resounding in your voice. "Never," he innocently shook his head. "But surely you've done other stuff," you insinuated, picking your fork back up and picking at your food. "Nope," Matt softly answered, picking up his glass of water. "Why not, Matty? There's no way you haven't had any offers," you answered.

You knew Matt never talked about his sex life with you, but you always assumed it was just because he was being a gentleman and respecting the privacy of his sexual partners. It's not like Matt wasn't good-looking, and even though he was a bit dorky, you always found that endearing about him.

"I mean, girls are interested in me, and I can usually tell when they are, but all the girls who have ever been interested are so indirect, and all they do is drop hints like they want me to make the first move. I'm just not really into that. I want a woman who pursues me for once," Matt shrugged, adjusting his glasses again.

"So, you're saving your virginity for a dominatrix?" You raised an eyebrow at him, teasing him and giving him a sly smirk. You watched as Matt got all flustered and started running his fingers through his brown hair. "Well, I wouldn't word it like that. I just want a woman who's in charge and knows what she wants," Matt replied, blushing.

"Yeah? You want her to boss you around a little in bed, baby?" You cooed through your seductive smile. Matt rolled his eyes and let out a nervous giggle, but he neither confirmed nor denied your allegation.

You knew that your friendship with Matt was unconventional. You guys often did things together and talked about topics that most people would consider to be inappropriate for friends to engage in, but neither one of you minded how close you were. After all, you were just friends.

The waitress approached your table, offered you some boxes to take the rest of your food to go, and dropped off the check. Matt started to reach for his wallet, but you stopped him. "No, no, no. I invited you out, baby. I'll pay for your dinner," you grinned at him, reaching for your purse.

"Twisted my arm," Matt jokingly scoffed at you and acted like it was the biggest inconvenience to put his wallet back into his pocket, but he secretly loved that you always insisted on covering his bill. After you'd paid and left a generous tip, you went to get up from your chair.

"You ready, Matt?" You asked, standing up and grabbing your purse and your coat. "Uh, wait. You think we could sit here for a few more minutes?" Matt latched onto your arm, stopping you from leaving the table. There was an urgency in his voice.

"Yeah, of course. Why? What's up?" You tilted your head at him and softly caressed his face. "Please. You're gonna make it worse. Need just a few minutes. That's all," he said, batting your hand away. Your eyes traveled to the napkin placed over his lap, and you picked up on what the problem was.

"Oh, don't worry. We'll wait here until it goes away," you smirked at Matt, biting your lip. He blushed and let out a nervous laugh at how easily turned on he was, but you secretly loved it.

Once Matt's hard on had subsided, the two of you made your way back out into the parking lot, your red heels clicking against the pavement beneath you. You threw your arm around his shoulder, steadying yourself on him and towering over him. He reciprocated your gesture, hooking his arm around your waist.

"So, do you really think about what I sound like in bed?" He teased you, unable to let go of that tidbit of information you'd shared earlier. "Oh, from time to time," you snickered. You pulled your keys out of your bag and went to unlock your car, but Matt reached for them. "Hey, how about I drive? You've had a few drinks."

"Yeah, just a few," you rolled your eyes, holding your keys out of his reach. "Come on. I know that you're careful. But what if someone else causes an accident? Then you'd automatically be at fault because you had three glasses of wine tonight," Matt looked at you with his big, blue eyes.

He knew you were stubborn, but he always knew how to reason with you. "Fine," you smiled at him, handing him your keys and hopping into the passenger seat.

Matt started up your car, tilted the rearview mirror down, and moved the seat forward a bit to adjust to how much shorter he was than you. "It's so weird seeing you in the driver's seat. You're always my passenger princess," you teased him, connecting your phone to bluetooth and throwing on one of your playlists. He playfully side-eyed you as you serenaded him from the passenger seat.

When he pulled up to your house, he lowered the volume on your car speakers. "Hey, you mind if I crash here tonight? I kind of didn't think about the fact that I don't have a ride home unless I take your car," he innocently asked, giving you his puppy dog eyes.

"Of course you can stay here, Matt. You're always welcome to stay the night with me," you ran your thumb over the back of his hand again, a gesture you did often because you knew how much Matt valued physical touch. You stepped out of your car and grabbed your purse and your coat, slinging both over your shoulder. Matt, who still had your keys, unlocked your front door, letting the two of you inside.

You steadied yourself using Matt's shoulder as you stepped out of your heels, one foot at a time, still towering over the boy by a few inches. "You know, Matt. I don't think you should be self-conscious about being a virgin. I think it's really hot," you giggled into his ear, unable to stop thinking about how pure and innocent he was.

"Well, I was never insecure about it until people laughed at me when I told them," Matt responded, looking down and pushing up his glasses. "That's because other people are insecure and convinced that everything is a race. Don't worry about them," you drunkenly responded. "Thanks for saying that," Matt shrugged and gave you a smile.

"Come up to my room with me, Matty," you cooed, running your stiletto nails through his hair. He glanced up at you with a submissive expression and nodded, following you up the stairs. His gaze landed on your legs, and he silently appreciated every curve as you led him up to your bed in a calculated manner.

"I wanna shower before bed. Will you help me with my zipper?" You asked him once the two of you were standing in your master bedroom outside your bathroom. "Sure," Matt replied, feeling the tension in the air as you spun around, peeking over your shoulder.

He took the zipper between his two shaky fingers and slowly pulled it down, revealing your back to him. "Come hang out with me while I shower so I don't get bored?" You invited him in, batting your lashes in his direction. "Yeah," he replied in a soft tone.

You turned the dial on your tub and began running the water while you grabbed your makeup wipes and started washing the lipstick from your mouth. Matt sat on the edge of your bathroom counter, watching you remove the pigmented color from your face.

"Matty, I know you don't know what you sound like during sex, but indulge me for a second. How do you sound when you touch yourself?" You softly asked him, looking into his blue eyes. His cheeks started to turn bring red, and his face grew warm. "Um, I guess I'm not super loud, but I make some noise, and I definitely have to try to stay quiet," Matt disclosed to you.

"Yeah? I bet you whimper," you smirked at Matt. "Why are you thinking about that?" Matt wondered, teasing you and purposely ignoring your accusation. "Just a little curious. That's all," you seductively replied, still buzzing from the wine. "Well, just for the record, I think I would like it if a girl were loud in bed," Matt smirked at you. "Oh, really?" You asked, licking your lips. "Mhmm," he quietly answered you.

"No peeking," you ordered Matt as you started to slip out of your dress. He covered his eyes and shut them until you'd disappeared behind the shower curtain. "You can look now," you said to Matt as you tilted your head back, allowing the hot water to drench your hair.

He let his eyes adjust back to the bathroom lighting, and he watched as the steam in the air began to fill the space in front of him. He took off his glasses, wiping the condensation that was in the air from them before placing them back on his face.

"Thank you for driving me home and for being such good company," you thanked Matt from the other side of the curtain. "That's what friends are for," he responded, but the word friends started to lose its meaning and began to seem more like a strange sound than an actual term the longer it tumbled around in Matt's head.

"So this guy you've been seeing," Matt started off with a twinge of jealousy in his voice. "What about him?" You peeked your head out from behind the curtain with shampoo in your hair. "Do you think you'll end up dating him?" Matt asked, his eyes flickering up at you from his ring he was fidgeting with again.

"I don't know. I don't want to sound superficial, but the fact that he's so quiet during sex and doesn't give me any reassurance that I'm doing a good job is kind of a dealbreaker. It really kills the mood for me," you admitted, removing your detachable shower head and rinsing out your hair with it.

"What kinds of things would you want him to say?" Matt casually wondered out loud. "It's kind of embarrassing," you started to say, scrubbing your body. "You can tell me. I won't laugh," Matt assured you. "Well, I'd want him to moan really loud for me and not hold back," you started to say, letting your imagination take over.

"I'd want him to tell me how good I'm making him feel," you said, your hand dipping between your legs and softly running it along your folds while you pictured it was Matt under your control, saying this all to you.

"I'd want him to say something like, 'just like that mommy' when I'm doing something with my tongue that he really likes," you hissed through your teeth as you spread your lips open with two fingers, letting the warm water from the shower head hit your most sensitive place.

Matt quietly listened, his lips falling slightly open and his eyes subtly widening as he pictured you doing unspeakable things. His erection started to strain against his pants.

"And I'd want him to tell me when I'm about to make him cum," you said right before an obvious whimper escaped your lips as you kept the shower head pointed at your clit. Matt started to giggle. "Hey, you said you wouldn't laugh," you peeked out from behind the shower curtain, giving Matt a pouty face.

"I'm sorry. I'm not laughing because I think it's funny or anything. I just laugh when I'm nervous," Matt replied, sighing and fidgeting with his hair. "Awh. Do I make you nervous, baby?" You cooed, and Matt blushed and nervously chuckled in response.

"Another reason he and I probably won't ever date is that he doesn't really like how close we are," you admitted to Matt. "You and me?" He asked, sounding surprised. "Mhmm," you hummed from the shower. "He knows we're just friends, right?" Matt asked, unfogging his glasses once more.

"Yeah, but he thinks something's going on between us," you replied, shutting off the water after you'd rinse all your bodywash off of you. Matt was caught off-guard by this, but the more he silently mulled over the dynamic the two of you shared, the more he realized how often the two of you toed of the line of being just friends and being more than friends.

"Well, he doesn't have anything to worry about. I'm a virgin," he laughed and shrugged, putting his glasses back on. He watched as you leaned out of the shower to grab your towel, exposing your breast to him while you held eye contact and smirked when you watched his gaze drop to your chest.

"I'm sure you'll lose your virginity before you know it," you responded, wrapping the towel around yourself and stepping out of the shower. "You think so?" Matt asked, chewing on his lip. "I know so. There's no way a cute little submissive thing like you isn't going to draw in the attention of a girl who's bold enough to make a move," you cooed, licking your lips as your eye caught a glimpse of his hard on. "I hope so," he whispered.

You sauntered off into your room, and Matt followed behind like a lost puppy dog. You dropped your towel and started changing in front of him, and in an attempt to be as respectful as possible, he turned his gaze away from you.

"I'm gonna go get set up in the guestroom, and I'll see you in the morning," Matt told you, getting ready to leave the room as you slipped into a pair of underwear and a tank top. "Oh, come on, Matty. Stay. What's the fun of a sleepover if we don't get to hang out all night until we fall asleep in the same bed like we always do?" You asked, pouting at him.

He slowly nodded, sitting on the edge of your bed. "You don't mind if I sleep in just this, do you?" You wondered, presenting your pretty, black lace panties and black camisole. "I don't mind," Matt answered, staring at you in awe.

You dried off your hair and started brushing through it, and after a few more moments of silence, you brought up the original topic of discussion, the same one you and Matt had been dancing around and circling back to all night.

"Could I actually just show you how loud I am?" You shifted your eyes up at Matt as you caught your lip between your teeth. "Show me how loud you are?" He naively wondered. "How loud I can get during sex? I really feel self-conscious about it, and I need your opinion," you batted your lashes again. "Uh, sure. Why not?" Matt said, trying to keep his cool. "This is purely for science," you raised an eyebrow at him. He nodded.

He felt like he was in a dream, watching as you put each of your legs on either side of his knee. You lowered your weight down onto it until your clothed pussy was resting right on his thigh, the increase in pressure creating a wonderful sensation for you. He could feel your heat and the soft thump thump of your throbbing clit through your panties. You leaned in and locked your soft lips onto his.

It wasn't the first kiss you'd shared. You'd kissed each other a handful of times when you were younger, under the guise that you were just practicing, but this was definitely the most passionate one.

His whole body started buzzing as your tongue begged for entrance, swirling around in his mouth. He could taste the red wine on your breath. You let out a loud moan against Matt's lips as you started rocking back and forth on his leg.

He immediately felt the fabric of his jeans strain against his hard cock as he studied the way your lips fell open and your eyes fell shut once you'd pulled back from the kiss. "Oh, Matt," the words escaped your lips loudly as you picked up the pace. He loved hearing you say his name in such an intimate manner and seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Your hands made their way to Matt's chest, curling your fingers and latching onto the his jacket as you rode his thigh, and you slowly started to push the fabric off over his shoulders. Your involuntary sensual sounds filled the room, and you started grinding on his knee a little harder.

Matt held his breath as you reached for the bulge in his jeans and started palming it through the denim. "Oh," he quietly whimpered at your touch.

He could feel how wet you were getting, rhythmically rolling your hips forward as you humped his thigh. Your moans resounded, reaching their crescendo as you fell apart on Matt's knee. "That's it. Gonna cum," you cried out.

You held him in an embrace as you finished, falling limp against him and nearly screaming in his ear. He wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you, your wet hair tickling his forearms and your chest pressing against his cheek as it rose and fell while you caught your breath. You were both blushing.

"Did you think I was too loud?" You quietly whispered just above his ear. "You were loud, but I liked it a lot," Matt said after a short pause. You let out a laugh. Matt's cock was aching. "Oops. Sorry about the mess," you mumbled as you climbed off his knee, revealing a wet spot you'd left behind on his jeans. "I don't mind," he replied quietly, staring up at you.

Maybe the two of you were too close, and maybe it was inappropriate to grind on your best friend's thigh, but why stop now? His breath hitched in his throat as you descended to a kneeling position in front of him. "Now it's your turn," you seductively relayed, your fingers crawling across his lap, making their way to his zipper.

"My turn? For what?" Matt naively asked, wide-eyed. "To show me how you sound in bed. Please, Matty. I'm not going to be able to sleep tonight unless I know," you pouted at him, undoing the button on his jeans. "Wait. What if this complicates our friendship?" Matt wondered out loud. "Oh, come on, Matty. We're basically already dating. We do everything a couple would do except have sex. Maybe it'll actually make things less complicated," you smirked at him.

Deep down, he knew you might be right. "O-okay," Matt stammered, peering down at the way the teeth of his zipper came undone between your fingers. He went to take off his glasses, but you stopped him. "Matty, please. Keep them on," you requested, and he nodded.

You gave him a lustful and devious expression as you pulled his pants down just enough to access his throbbing dick. He lifted his hips as he looked into your hypnotic eyes. You reveled in the fact that you were going to be the first to make him make those sounds that were about to pour from his mouth. You reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock, mesmerized by the sight.

His tip was the same shade as his parted lips, and it was shiny with pre-cum already. You started to curl your fingers around its thickness and gently stroke it up and down. "Look at that," you gasped while you observed more clear liquid drool out of it, admiring how sensitive it was. Matt softly whimpered as it quivered in your hand.

You ran your palm up his shaft, grazing the head and spreading the fluid around, using it as lubricant while you pumped it back and forth. He let out a soft whine as you stimulated him. "Good boy," you praised him in a low, seductive tone.

He started gently bucking his hips up, driving his sensitive dick further into your hand while he let out a few stifled moans. "Don't hold back, baby," you cooed, picking up speed. "Mmm. It feels so good, mommy," he cried out, sending blood straight to your clit.

"That's it. Let me hear you," you responded, slowly closing the distance between his aggravated tip and your soothing lips, latching onto his most sensitive nerve endings. He gasped at the sensation. It was impossible for him to stay quiet.

Fervent noises filled the room while he watched as you made the head disappear behind your lips, then his shaft, and then you slid all the way down until your nose was pressed up against his lower tummy. "Yes, yes, yes," he whimpered, holding your wet hair out of your face.

You loved how responsive and interactive he was, doing everything you would have wanted a boy to do while giving him head. You bobbed your head up and down a few times, coaxing more pleasant sounds from Matt while he savored the soft, wet, warm feeling of your mouth.

You slid all the way down on his shaft again until the tip was in your throat, this time holding still while you hummed against his dick. "Please. Please keep going," Matt begged, trying to buck hip hips again, but you held them down, keeping him from being able to move. You were driving him crazy.

"Mommy, please move your mouth. I'll do anything," he implored, his voice cracking with desperation. You teased him, moving your head up and down but just slightly and at a painfully slow pace. "Faster, mommy," he begged you.

After a few more minutes of his pleading, you finally gave in, sloppily drooling all over his cock while you moved in a steady, calculated rhythm, stimulating every nerve ending on his rod while he inched closer to the finish line. "Feels so good. Gonna make such a mess for you, mommy," Matt desperately whined.

The words leaving his mouth suddenly had you aware of how empty you were feeling between your legs.

You moved back up his length with your mouth, but this time, when you reached the tip, you slipped it out of your mouth and smirked up at Matt. "Please. No. Why'd you stop?" He wondered, sounding distressed by the way his pleasure came to an end suddenly before he was done.

You stood up. "Be a good boy and wait," you responded lustfully, dropping your panties and pulling off your top. Matt fell silent as he admired your body, his eyes following every curve.

The shape of your body drew in his stare to your most intimate parts, the way your thighs came together in a v shape, practically directing his eyes towards your pussy. His eyes wandered up towards your breasts that he'd only ever seen for seconds at a time when you'd changed in front of him.

"Be a good boy and let mommy cum one more time, and then it'll be your turn. Got it?" You asked, slowly stepping towards him again. "Anything you want, mommy," he obediently nodded.

You climbed on top of him, straddling his lap, taking his dick into your grip and guiding it towards your hole. "Oh my god," Matt gutturally moaned with his eyes rolling back as you slowly descended onto him, taking it inch by inch. He couldn't believe you were taking his virginity.

"Don't you dare cum yet," you smirked at him as you lowered all the way down and started bouncing on his cock. He nodded at you with his glazed over eyes and his jaw hanging open as you picked up speed, your tits bouncing in his face while he admired them.

You started rubbing your clit while you rode Matt, and more urgent whimpers poured from both of your lips. "How's it feel, Matty?" You cooed. "Best feeling ever," he moaned, peering into your eyes. "You're so big. You fill me up so good!" You exclaimed as his dick rutted into your g-spot. He swooned at your compliment, placing both his hands on your waist.

You rocked your hips forward, your pussy gliding up and down his length, and you felt your legs behind to shake. You could feel Matt's dick throbbing in your hole as he whimpered for you and looked up at you with his most desperate expression, which sent you past the point of no return.

Your pussy spasmed around his sensitive cock, and he could feel every contraction as you called out his name loudly over and over. You rubbed your clit in tighter, faster circles. He felt your whole body tighten while you shook and loudly squealed as you finished onto him, leaving behind the milky evidence of how much fun you'd had leaking down his shaft.

"Please," he begged, staring down at the mess you made on his cock and knowing he'd done that to you had him right on the edge of his climax. "Please what, baby?" You bit your lip, still riding him. "Please, mommy. Don't stop. Need a warm place to cum inside," he cried out.

"Of course, baby. Of course you can cum inside," you assured him, cradling his head and pushing your breasts into his face. Your rose-scented bodywash filled his senses. He peered up at you with his pretty blue eyes that were filled with lust and desire. His eyebrows were furrowed together in an expression of sheer pleasure.

Goosebumps arose all over his flesh as an orgasmic rush coursed through his body. He whimpered fervently against your chest, his cock twitching and draining inside of you. You loved watching him come undone underneath you. You continued to bounce up and down on his dick until he started hissing through his teeth about how sensitive it was.

You brought your movements to a stop, tilted Matt's chin up with your hand, and kissed him while he was still inside of you. He looked up at you wide-eyed and panting. "Wow, I never knew sex could be that intense," he innocently shook his head. "I made you feel good, didn't I?" You asked, nibbling on your lip. "So good," he replied, pushing up his glasses.

"That was so hot. I knew you'd be a whimperer."

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[goldfades]

CINDERELLA───JOE BURROW

request: "Reader is going out with girlies and dressed sexy that joe almost got mad at reader cuz he doesn’t want reader going out with that dress and suddenly obsessed with boobies and told reader they cant breath in that dress" for @crispppykreme

The dress wasn’t new, but it might as well have been, given how long it had languished at the back of your closet. A slinky little thing, sleek black with a neckline that danced on the edge of scandal and just enough shimmer to catch the light in all the right places. It was the kind of dress that didn’t just suggest confidence—it demanded it.

You were proud of how you looked, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror, twisting slightly to check every angle. The effort had paid off: hair done, makeup sharp, heels that made your legs look miles long. Tonight was about the girlies, a rare night out that wasn’t dinner and wine but cocktails and dancing, the kind of carefree, late-night escapades you hadn’t had in months.

Joe had been fine about it earlier, or at least you thought he had. There was an absentminded “Have fun, baby,” thrown your way when you’d mentioned your plans this morning. But now, as his eyes scanned you from head to toe like he was taking inventory, you could feel the tension radiating off him from across the room.

“You’re really wearing that?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an edge that made you freeze mid-reach for your clutch. You turned slowly, eyebrow raised, trying to read the expression on his face.

“Uh, yeah? What’s wrong with it?” You kept your tone light, playful, even though the way he was looking at you made your skin prickle. Joe wasn’t one to throw around his opinions about your outfits, and honestly, you appreciated that about him. He knew you had your own style, your own vibe. But tonight? Something about tonight had apparently made him forget that.

He stepped closer, his hand running down his face as he let out a slow, deliberate sigh. “It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just…” His gaze dropped to your chest, and he gestured vaguely in that direction. “That dress. I mean, are you sure it’s comfortable? They—uh, you—don’t look like you can even breathe in it.”

For a second, you just blinked at him, your brain scrambling to catch up. Then it hit you, and the corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself.

“Oh,” you said, the teasing lilt unmistakable. “That’s what this is about.”

Joe crossed his arms, clearly trying to play it cool, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “I’m just saying. It’s kind of… tight, don’t you think?”

You couldn't stop the grin spreading across your face, even as Joe tried—and failed—to keep his cool. He was too easy to read, the faint crease between his brows giving him away completely.

“Oh, come on,” you teased, grabbing your clutch and turning back toward the mirror. “You’ve seen me wear tighter.”

“That’s not the point,” he shot back, his voice firmer now, enough to make you glance at him in the mirror. He was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like some kind of judgmental Greek statue, all broad shoulders and furrowed brows.

“Then what is the point, Joe?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m getting the vibe that it’s not about how tight this dress is.”

He huffed, running a hand through his hair in that way he always did when he was trying to sort through his words. “The point is,” he said slowly, “you’re going out looking like… like that. And I know exactly how guys are gonna act when they see you.”

You turned around now, giving him your full attention. “Guys? Plural? Is that what this is about?”

“It’s not about guys,” he said quickly, but the words came out too rushed, too defensive. He shifted his weight, unfolding his arms, clearly trying to walk the line between annoyed and reasonable. “It’s about… I don’t know. I just don’t want anyone thinking they can look at you like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, stepping closer, biting back a laugh as you pressed your palm to his chest. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your hand, but you could feel the tension in him.

“Like… like you’re up for grabs or something.” His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away from yours, like saying it out loud embarrassed him.

You blinked, genuinely taken aback for a moment. “Joey,” you said, softening your tone, “you realize that’s not how this works, right? Just because I look good doesn’t mean I’m inviting attention. And even if someone does look—so what? I’m coming home to you.”

His eyes flicked back to yours at that, softening slightly, but his lips pressed into a stubborn line. “Yeah, but you’re mine,” he muttered, the words barely audible but so pointed they hung heavy in the air.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Yours?” you repeated, shaking your head in disbelief. “What, are you going to put a sticker on me that says ‘Property of Joe Burrow’?”

He groaned, his hand raking through his hair again. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Do I?” you shot back, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Because it kinda sounds like you’re saying I can’t wear what I want unless it gets your approval.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” he said quickly, but the way his ears were turning pink made you think he was second-guessing himself.

“Then what?” you asked, crossing your arms now, mirroring his earlier stance. “Because, if you think I’m changing out of this dress just because it makes you nervous, you’ve got another thing coming.”

He stared at you for a moment, his jaw working, clearly torn between frustration and surrender. “It’s not nervous,” he mumbled finally. “It’s just… look, you’re too damn sexy, okay? There. I said it. And I'm not there to make sure nobody thinks they can have you.”

You raised an eyebrow, your grin growing wider. “Ohhh, I see,” you said, dragging out the words. “So, this isn’t about the dress at all. It’s about you being jealous.”

His face scrunched like he wanted to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he settled for muttering, “I’m not jealous.”

“Right,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “Because you’re totally fine with me going out looking like a ‘damn goddess,’ as I’m sure some guy at the bar is going to say.”

Joe groaned again, tipping his head back against the doorframe. “Do you have to do this?”

“Yes,” you said brightly, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Because it’s fun watching you squirm.”

He sighed, his hands finally coming to rest on your hips, pulling you in closer. “I’m serious, though,” he said, his voice lower now, quieter. “You look amazing. Too amazing. And I trust you—I do—but that doesn’t mean I trust every drunk guy who’s gonna see you tonight.”

“I can handle drunk guys,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And besides, you know I’d never let anyone get too close.”

“I know,” he admitted, resting his forehead against yours. “I just hate the idea of someone thinking they even have a chance.”

“Well, they don’t,” you said simply, smiling up at him. “You’re the only one who gets to peel me out of this dress later.”

His lips twitched into a smirk at that, and you could feel some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Yeah, you’re damn right I am.”

You grinned, giving him another quick peck on the lips before stepping back. “Now, are you done being dramatic, or do I need to remind you that this is my night out?”

He sighed, letting his arms drop but not stepping back. “Fine,” he said, though his tone still had a hint of reluctance. “But if you’re not home by midnight, I’m calling.”

You laughed, grabbing your Chanel clutch and heading for the door. “Sure, Cinderella. Whatever you say.”

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[satinestales]

can you write something like hobie ‘using’ reader (consensually ofc) and degrading her? no pressure if it’s too much :) thank youuu 🩷

cold rings | hobie brown x fem!reader

pairing: hobie brown x fem!reader

summary: porn without a plot

warnings: degradation, objefixation (mentions of being used), rough sex, little praising, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it kids), oral fem receiving, oral male receiving, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, hair pulling, teasing

author's note: First thing, I'd love to thank @hanasnx for correcting me and apologise for not crediting him first. I took a big inspiration from Indy's oneshot Moth To A Flame (Hobie Brown), and I definitely recommend you check out his blog out. I adore their writing <333

I solemnly believe Hobie is a sweetheart and a sub and loves to watch you do anything to him, but since he's a punk, there's a high chance he's into BDSM. Also, he was finally confirmed to be 20, so we're the same age woohoouu. Enjoy my try for a readable smut <333

m.list

You laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, shivering slightly as the chilly weather crept into your room, but the warm sunset light falling into your window provided some solace. You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, leaning your body towards the tall figure sitting next to you.

The spikes on his bracelet met your skin, cold to the touch as he wrapped his arm around you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You could feel his chin on the top of your head, pulling you closer to him, relaxing in his arms. He was warm, and the cold quickly left your body. You smiled, closing your eyes right before his hand slipped down your body to play with the hem of your tank top, twisting it between his fingers.

You couldn't bother to wear anything else than lavender-colored panties and a black tank top that didn't reach further than your ribs. You couldn't judge Hobie after he made fun of you for being cold. It was purely just your fault.

"Didn't Jess want us to be at the HQ by dusk?" You mumbled into Hobie's shoulder, carefully scanning his long fingers, now outlining the fabric of your panties, tickling your lower stomach.

"Prolly," he responded, you could hear him smiling while answering you. You knew Hobie for too long to know he doesn't do anything he's told to do. Unless it's you. Any words that come from your mouth, he is determined to fulfill. "Rather be with you, tho." Kissing the top of your head, his hand moved back up to sweep the hair strands falling into your eyes.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, lifting yourself on your arms to take a proper look at your companion. His legs manspreading on your bed like he owns the place, his right arm still laid out on the headboard, and a smirk on his lips. You had to hold back a smile, biting your cheek, and looking into his big brown eyes.

"Miguel will beat your ass," you uttered, sitting straight, your knees bent under you and touching his. "And mine." You added not amused by the boredom in his expression. You shared his annoyance towards the Spider Society, but you didn't want to get your ass beaten by a big-ass leader whose claws could tear anyone apart. You already tested his patience last time, and you weren't in the mood for another discussion of how useless you are.

"Babe, don't worry about it," He saw your smiley expression turn into a face of concern and decided to comfort you. He threw himself away from the board leaning towards you, grabbing your hands in his and caressing your palm with his thumb. "S'gon be okay and also, when did a little trouble scare you?" he tilted his head, awaiting your reaction.

"Never," you shook your head, adding a dramatic tone to your voice. You leaned to give Hobie a quick kiss on his lips before jumping out of the bed and walking around the room to find your suit. "But I don't wanna be sent home just because I didn't meet his stupid deadlines, Hobes." You spoke, bending down to open a box with your suit in it. Wrinkled and dirty from the last mission, you totally forgot to clean it. But this time, it was Hobie's fault after he dragged you into his place after you finished your mission to release some steam. He was partly the reason why your suit was torn up in certain places.

Hobie leaned back again against the headboard, arms behind his head as he enjoyed the view of you bending down, your panties barely covering your ass.

"I'll make you your own watch," he uttered, not taking his eyes off you as you turned around to face him, throwing your suit on the bed. "Let him kick you out, and we can visit each other any day." A smile played across his lips as he crawled to you, towering over you, and pulling you closer to him by holding your waist. You could feel his breath because of how close he was and his cold rings touching your lower back. You couldn't smile at his idea, lips forming into a light smile. You wanted to protest and say you can't afford it, but he shut you up by leaning into you, his lips meeting your ear. "I'd finally have proper time to take care of you," he whispered into your ear, his hand sliding down to grab your ass. Chills traveled down your spine as you heard his voice and the cold jewelry on his hands meeting your ass.

You couldn't help but moan at his action and be rewarded by Hobie's cocky smile and his hands traveling under your panties to hold your bare ass properly. As many times as Hobie touched you, it always felt like the first time. His long, slim fingers slid down your skin, playing with the hem of your clothes, playing with your hair, or fingering you while lying beneath him. You always ended up begging for more, and he devoured every sound you made.

Words began to form on your tongue but quickly again disappeared when Hobie attacked your neck and started leaving light kisses on your skin. You leaned into his touch, mind blank, forgetting about the suit ready on your bed, and Jess probably waiting for the both of you to show up. Now, all your thoughts were full of Hobie's lips, already on your collarbones, and his fingers still holding your ass.

"Hobie," a moan left your lips as he moved his hand up to pull away the straps of your tank top down your shoulders. He stopped all his movements, looking up at you with concern in his eyes. You bent down to give him a proper kiss, pushing him back against the mattress, your weight falling on his. Both of you let out a surprised gasp, his hands grabbing you more tightly than before.

"I'll stay," you whispered against his lips, lifting yourself to sit on your knees on his lap while he laid beneath you. You could see the sudden change in his face, a smile glowing on his lips. "But," He raised his eyebrows, confused and waiting for what you were about to say. His hands moved back to hold your ass, your already wet core so close to his reach.

"Remember last time? At the dorm?" you asked, hoping he'd remembered. But you doubted he would forget you beginning as he pounded into you against the wall and called you names, you'd be too ashamed to admit you like being called.

As expected, he tilted his head, scanning your face to find out if you were joking. When he decided you were not, he nodded his head. "Could never forget that," he joked, gripping your ass harder and pushing you against his growing crotch, gasp leaving your mouth.

You bent down, hands on his chest as you whispered against his full lips, your teeth gently tugging on his cold piercing. "I want you to do it again. Use me like you did back then." You closed your eyes as you felt his lips move against yours, his hands moving up to hold your waist.

"You sure?" he asked gently, wanting to know you're certain about your wish. You didn't waste any second and gripped his shirt, pulling yourself closer to his body. Hoping that serves as an answer.

You felt Hobie smile against you as the kiss deepened, growing more passionate and fuller of desire. You needed to feel his touch, his tongue, his fingers, his cold rings against your skin.

"Hobes, please," you whispered as his hands slipped up your tank top, caressing the skin of your underboob, teasing you. Testing how much you can take. His other hand traveled from your waist to find your hair, pulling them down so he could have more access to your neck. You let out a moan as he kept pulling your hair, holding your head thrown back. His lips attached to your neck, leaving wet trails as he moved down slowly.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice deeper and more demanding. It made your walls clench over nothing. His hand under your tank top finally moved up, your hard nipple meeting his cold rings. You gasped, closing your eyes, digging your nails into his thighs. His thumb ran over your nipple while still assaulting your neck with painfully slow kisses.

"Touch me, please." You begged between moans before you felt Hobie's lips move away from your neck and let off your hair. His brown eyes, now darker than a few minutes before, pupils dilated, stared back into yours, a smirk playing on his face.

"Barely done anything, and you're so needy already." Tilting his head, holding back a smile. His gaze fell, where your crotch met his, thoughts playing in his head.

"Pathetic," he mumbled to himself before grabbing you by the waist and throwing you under him, your back meeting your soft mattress. Hair spread on the bedsheets; legs spread for Hobie to fit in between. Your tank top slid up, exposing half of your boobs and if Hobie looked down, he could've seen the wet spot between your legs.

"You look a fucking mess." You watched him draw his fingers alongside your tank top, moving them down to meet the lace of your panties. You waited patiently for his next move, moving your hips against his hand for some friction. But he caught your action and pulled his hands away. You rolled your eyes at the frustration, pushing away the desire to finish this by yourself. But you asked for this, and Hobie always respected your wishes. No matter how twisted they were.

"Hobie, please just," Your tone was filled with annoyance, which made Hobie laugh, admiring how needy and beautiful you were for him. Lying there, leg spread out, tits out, waiting to be fucked like a whore.

"I'm gonna do what I want," he grabbed your cheeks, eyes staring into your soul. "And you will take it." His dominant voice traveled straight to your core, wanting nothing else than to be filled by him. Nodding your head, you didn't protest and let Hobie place his fingers back on your skin, teasing you for minutes before his fingers finally landed at your inner thighs. You were now sure he saw how wet you are, dripping through the panties.

"Fuck," he let out a sigh when he saw the mess you made on your underwear. "You're so predictable." His laugh filled the room followed by a gasp when his fingers touched your clothed cunt.

"D'you like it?" He raised his eyebrows, not taking his eyes off of your cunt. You nodded to answer his question, gripping the bed sheet from the frustration you felt. If Hobie won’t pleasure in the next few minutes you swear you were going to go crazy and do it yourself. Your irritation wasn’t hard to see and Hobie decide to spare you from the torture. You could barely catch him kneeling and ripping of your panties, throwing them away to the pile of clothes from earlier days. Your wet cunt now revealed to him and exposed to the chilly air in the room.

“Fuck,” he breathed out his hands spreading your legs further from each other. You lifted your head to watch him, finding him laying between your legs and taking one of his bigger rings, holding it between his thumb and his middle finger. You were confused at first as to why he took it off until you felt him slide it down your dripping clit. The coldness of the ring sent shivers down your spine and made you tremble.

“Jesus, Hobie.” You gasped, his cold ring still touching your slit. Head falling into the pillows you let yourself relax while Hobie kept working on your cunt with his ring. You could feel his breath, his lips, and his tongue so close to your soaked clit.

Hobie liked seeing you struggle under his touch, but he couldn’t feel sad for torturing you, so he quickly pressed his lips against you, drawing a moan out of you. He could drown between your legs, thighs crushing him. As if you already weren’t a mess, he added a finger, circling your wet core to coax it to loosen. “When you’re away I daydream about this.” His deep voice sent vibrations through your cunt, making you groan his name out. He took advantage of you being distracted by his words to shove his finger inside of you, your moans spreading across the room. His tongue stopped the movements on your clit, quickly being replaced by his thumb. As much as he loved tasting you and devouring your cunt, he wanted to watch you quiver underneath him. Under his fingers. So needy to be fulfilled.

Adding another finger to stretch you out, you grab his arm to stable yourself as your eye roll to the back of your head, overwhelmed by his finger pumping in and out of you. “Like it? Fucking your cunt with my fingers?” he asked, mockingly, smiling at you trembling, all because of his fingers.

“Yes, fuck.” You cried out, Hobie’s fingers speeding, curing inside of you hitting all the right stops. He was sure people outside the apartment could hear your cries, and he loved the idea of them knowing you were getting fucked and used by him. All his to take.

“So desperate,” he laughs at you, stopping his fingers but leaving them inside of you. Your head flew up, your face filled with confusion and frustration. You were so close, he could feel it, but he decided to let you cum only around his cock. He made the decisions tonight. You did as he said.

Without answering he took you by the waist and turned you around, on all fours, ass up. You tried to calm your breath and compose yourself, mad he didn’t let you cum. You felt the heat in your stomach fading away as you waited for Hobie to take you. You practically begged for him, crying for his dick to fill you up.

“Music to my ears.” He whispered into your ear, moving back behind you, admiring the view. Your ass ready to be fucked, your cunt wet, walls clenching around nothing. “All mine,” he murmured, and you could hear him playing with his belt, his pants falling to the floor.

“Yours.” You confirmed, resting your head on your hands, pleading for him to finally fuck you and use your cunt like he did many nights ago. You know he’s just toying with you, testing your patience which is about to run out. You hear his silent laugh and the next thing you know; his cock is spreading you out, deep inside of your cunt. The delicious stretch draws a moan out of you, your head covered in the pillows.

He waits for a few seconds, letting you adjust him before he starts thrusting into you, slowly starting to pick up speed. His hands on your waist, cold rings touching your skin, and his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck, could do this all day.” He moans, his thrusts becoming faster and rougher. "Feels good?" he asks as he leans in to grab your hair and pull it back. "Getting fucked by me." He continues, not stopping fucking you hard, his thick cock spreading you out, tears streaming down your face from the pleasure. You couldn't even speak, as his cock kept sliding in and out of you, only focused on how good he felt inside of you.

"Like being used by me, huh." He knew you loved it. He knew how much you liked being called degradatory names, letting him spread your cunt and fuck you senseless. One of your favorite thing to do.

"Yes, Hobie," you screamed out as his cock hit your cervix hard, deeper now than ever before. His one hand still pulls your hair as his other keep your ass in place so he can pound into you like crazy. "Fucking love it when you use me like that." You let out between moans, closing your eyes,

"Fucking whore," He doesn't stop as he slides his finger under your belly to feel himself in you. The pressure of it makes your walls clench, orgasm approaching. You don't even notice his hand moves down until you feel him rubbing your sensitive clit. You were still so wet, basically dripping to the bedsheets.

"Such a good whore for taking my cock like that," he says out loud, pulling you up to press your back against his chest. His hand quickly travels up to hold your bouncing tits, playing with your nipples as he fucks into you deeper, knowing he's gonna cum soon too. "Your pussy feels so good around me." Whispering in your ear, biting into your earlobe. His cold piercing tickles your neck, making you shiver. You feel overstimulated, but it only brings you closer to your peak.

"Your fucking whore. Fuck me like your personal toy." Tears coming down from your eyes, enjoying the way Hobie fucks you like you're his personal sex toy. Like you're his possession and only he can fuck you like that.

"That's right, you're mine. Mine to take and fuck." He growls into your ear, his thrusts becoming sloppy, alerting you he's close to orgasm. And you are too, as your knees start to give up and your body weakens, under Hobie's restless cock spreading you out fast and hard.

"Fill me up, Hobie." As on command, he cums into you, filling you up with his seed. You follow him right after, falling back to your bed, letting the pleasure take over. Hobie doesn't hold you anymore and lets your knees give up on you. His cum dripping down from your cunt mixed with your own. Ass red, hair, messy, and nail marks on your hips. Marked as his. Mark as his to take.

You lay there for a few minutes, the body still trembling from the hard orgasm, until you feel Hobie fall next to you, cloth in his hands. He also looks tired, his cheeks red and eyes lighter now. You lift yourself to move closer to him, your lips meeting his.

"Thank you, Hobes." Smiling against his lips, you feel his hand move to your lower back.

"Ask more often, please. Feels fucking awesome." He jokes, now playing with your sweaty hair, which reminds him. "Look like shit, we need a shower."

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 25: Are Family Reunions Always This Awkward?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy. This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twenty five of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this one 18+ because it's got some heavier things in it, a few more sexual references, and it's kind of dark (more sad). Dark themes, Angst, Cursing, Sexual References, A little bit of heavy making out, Family Problems- A LOT of family problems, Homelander being a freak (he is), References to rape (It's only for a moment, but it doesn't make it any less terrible), Homelander is really bad in this chapter, Oedipus Complex (It's Homelander), Threatening, Past Trauma, Death Mentioned, Kidnapping. Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, completely a little OOC. Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: One last warning, Homelander is a freak. Honestly the guy creeps me out in general, but in this he's especially creepy. AND It did not bring me joy to write this. I struggled with it, but I think it’s the thing that has to happen to move this story forward. And this chapter legit has the biggest tone shift in the UNIVERSE of tone shifts.

“Are you angry with her?” Ben’s voice rumbles up through his chest as you lay beside him. You were sharing the same pillow, faces inches apart, breathing the same air. His hand was tracing shapes into the small of your back, arm draped heavy over the curve of your hip, but it was a comforting weight. It reminded you that he was there and that he wanted to be, and you were getting used to that.

"A little." You breathe with a frown. Your hands are locked at the back of Ben's neck, gently dragging through the hair at the nape of his neck the way you know he likes. He groans softly at the movement, leaning further towards you as you do. "But now learning about everything that happened with Charlie, I get it. He was manipulating her the same way that Vought manipulated us for so long, the same way that they manipulated Homelander as he grew up."

Ben frowns at the mention of your son.

Rosemary had been calmer about the reveal of Homelander as her brother, but you figured that maybe you needed to let her wrap her head around it.

Maybe she was more focused on what Vought had done to me.

After Rosemary's confession this morning the day had been spent trying to figure out what you were going to do about your son. Butcher, Hughie, and Legend had been just as surprised at the news. And you knew that Butcher was waiting for some kind of hesitation to proceed with the plan to kill Homelander, but he wouldn't find any.

Homelander needed to be stopped, he was a monster, and you knew that there wasn't a shred of humanity left. It broke your heart to admit that to yourself, that your son was a monster, but it was true. Homelander became the thing that Vought warped and twisted him into. There was no semblance of someone that you could care about left, no reminder of humanity in his eyes.

At least that was what you told yourself, and it was what you told Ben, but deep down you wished that you were wrong. You wished that maybe there was something left behind, something redeemable.

He grew up without a family in a cold lab, raised by monsters who did with him what they wished.

You think to reason with yourself. Maybe it was because you remembered what Ben said that Vought tried to do to him. It was true of course, Vought had tried to do the same thing to Ben and you when you took the serum. And maybe it did work on Ben a little bit, the façade that he adopted for Soldier Boy did seem to lean in the direction of warm-blooded American symbol that Vought wanted, but Ben was different and so were you.

"If you're not sure about this, we can try to talk to him." Ben whispers leaning his forehead against yours.

"I know. We can try, but I don't think Butcher is really going to go for that plan."

"I don't give a fuck about him. I only care about you."

"Uh-huh?" You smirk. "You don't care about anyone else?"

"Huh?"

"No body else? Because you and Lou looked pretty cozy earlier playing go fish."

They had. Lou had won and Ben was trying his best not to be upset that he got beat at a card game by a four year old.

"That little girl is a shark. Just like someone else I know." Ben snorts out a laugh and pulls you closer to him, so much so that you can feel the ghost of his smile against your lips.

“Well I never-“ You smile nudging your nose into the space between your faces.

"Fine, you caught me. I do care about her, and I care about Rosemary. Even if she does fucking hate me.”

“She doesn’t hate you as much as she thinks she does.”

“Hmm.”

"But I knew it." Your lips brush against his. "You're such a big softie."

Ben rolls his eyes. "Only for you Sweetheart." His hand stops tracing shapes against the back of your shirt and instead flattens against your back to pull you tighter against him. Your fingers thread through the locks of his hair, loving the way he feels pressed up against you, loving how after all these years it feels the same way and how it still feels like he was made for you and that you were made for him. When you were with Ben you didn't feel fat, because every soft part of you molded against the hardness of his muscles so perfectly that it made you feel like you belonged together.

"You know, I don't really like go fish all that much." Ben's smirks, kissing you back enthusiastically, his beard scratching against your skin in a way that makes everything else fade into the background. "I wouldn't mind playing some strip poker with you though."

"Oh really? What a surprise. Because you've always been better at poker than me."

"That's exactly why it would be fun." He rolls you over on your back, his large body over yours, his hips fitting between your legs, bringing them up around his waist with his free hand as he keeps kissing you.

"You're a man of simple tastes I guess." You laugh into his mouth, tightening your grip in his hair, tugging at the strands.

"Nothing simple about you doll." He all but growls against your lips. "And the only thing that I want is you."

The kiss deepens enough that you can feel yourself quickly losing yourself in him, but that's the way it always seemed when he kissed you. It felt like you held your arms out and spun in a circle until you were drunk and your head was spinning so fast nothing else seemed to fit, but Him. Time seemed to slow, the earth stopped spinning, everything around you was gone and the only thing left behind was Ben. You wondered if it was like that for him.

"Fuck you taste like strawberries." Ben mutters into your mouth.

Of course you did. You had ice cream before you came to bed, taking bites from Lou's bowl when she wasn't looking.

Ben tasted like the vanilla ice cream he’d had that he chased down with a glass of whiskey. You could feel yourself getting drunk on the sweet and vintage taste, sinking further into the mattress with his comfortable weight on top of you.

You moan into his mouth, moving your hands from his hair to grip his shoulders so tight that Ben could feel the bruises from your fingertips forming against his skin, but he didn’t care. You knew he liked it, knew that he liked that you were the only one strong enough to do that to him. He drags his lips down to kiss along your jawline, finally finding the place just in its shadow to suck another mark to replace the one that had faded a few days ago.

“Ben-“ You giggle, feeling the tickle of his beard against your skin. “You’ve really got to stop doing that.”

The words held no power, you didn’t want him to stop, didn't want any of this to end. It wasn't just because it felt good, it was because it felt right, the two of you together finally.

“Doing what?” He smirks up at you innocently.

Sometimes you hated how pretty he was, it meant that he got away with whatever he wanted and you were along for the ride. But in a pinch it was a good thing. When the two of you were children, Ben's good looks and charms had gotten the two of you out of trouble more than once.

“You keep giving me hickeys and it’s going to scar our daughter for life. Not to mention Lou asked me what it was today and I wasn’t about to have THAT conversation with a four year old.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” He drops his lips back down to the same spot. “I remember everything you like.”

His words are breathed against your skin, caressing something deep inside that makes you shudder beneath him.

Immediately you're transported back to the night of your birthday, when Ben made love to you and made you feel seen, understood, and loved for the first time in your life. The memories of that night wash over you in full color, moments that you wished to relive over and over again with Ben.

“Did you think I would forget?” Ben purrs as he continues to kiss along the hollow your throat, igniting something that you hadn’t felt in forty years. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget that night. Ever be able to forget how it felt to finally make love to you, to finally have you the way I wanted for so long, and to finally show you how much you mean to me.”

He raises his head from your throat, hands gripping your waist tightly to keep you wrapped around his body. His green eyes shine with mischief, his dark hair falling forward into his face as he stares down at you, seeing through you like no one ever has. His expression softens. “Because you do y/n. You mean everything to me” His voice is quiet, but it doesn’t make what he said any less important.

You gently cup his cheeks, pulling his lips back down in a fierce kiss that burns through your body. Ben smiles into your mouth, letting his guard down and as he does you leverage your weight to roll him over on his back so now you’re in his lap and he’s staring up at you, his eyes shining with something that almost makes you grab the front of his shirt and haul him back up to you for another kiss.

You smirk widely at him, hands planted against his toned stomach. He’d gone to bed without wearing a shirt again and you were far from complaining. You lean forward, your lips barely brushing his ear. “What makes you think I’ve forgotten what you like?”

“Fuck sweetheart. I won’t complain about anything you do to me.” Ben groans. His hands are holding on to your hips, pushing up your shirt to rest on the curves of your pelvis. "As long as I get to be with you, I'll be happy."

You kiss along his jaw, feeling the heat of his body radiating up through where you’re touching.

“Sweetheart?” Ben’s voice is strained, hands splayed wide over your hips. The roughness of his palms is comforting and familiar, the warmth of his skin  soothing. No one else ever seemed to be as warm as him. 

 Your lips drop to his throat as you kiss along the skin loving the tickle of stubble against the tip of your nose. “I’m a little busy at the moment baby.” You hum against him  as you begin to such a mark into the hollow of his throat, because you’re the only one able to do that to him.

Ben moans softly as you do it, shuddering below you, and it makes you feel powerful that you’re able to do that, to make him fall apart and make him lose himself in you the way he always seems to consume you.

“Y/n-“ Ben breathes  as you wrap yourself tighter around him, continuing to suck on the same spot. “Hmm?” You pull back to look at his face, raising a hand to push back the dark strands that have fallen into his eyes with a gentle hand.

You still were having a hard time with that despite everything. That Ben genuinely wanted to be yours the way you were always his. Somewhere deep down the little girl you used to be was finally content, finally able to hold the little boy she had loved for decades.

“I never said thank you.” He murmurs sitting up so you slide back into his lap and he’s able to hold you to him, his arms circling your waist.

“For?” Your arms link behind his neck. You can’t stop the soft smile that pulls at your lips when you look at your best friend. It was weird to think that you’d known each other so long and not know what you were missing, not know how perfect this would feel.

He kisses you again. “You always take care of me. Always have taken care of me.” Ben drops his lips to brush against your shirt over the scar the bullet left behind just over your heart.

You knew he was thinking about the day that you took a bullet for him and you wondered how much he thought about that. If the memory haunted him, if all the memories of your deaths haunted him.

“Well somebody’s got to. You’re a mess.”

“Not when I’m with you.”

“No.” You say happily keeping his head pressed against your chest. “That’s because I do my job. It's difficult sometimes but-"

"Shut up." Ben groans.

It's quiet for a few minutes as you stay there, gently stroking your fingertips in the way you know he likes, the dark strands shuffling through your hands.

He breathes deeply, as if he wishes to breathe you in, to pull you into him until there's nothing left but him and you. "I missed you so much Sweetheart."

"I missed you too Ben."

"And I-" His voice cracks with emotion, his next words getting caught in the back of his throat.

"Ben?" You cup his cheek worried. His bright green eyes have dimmed and you see something pass through them that looks almost like shame. "What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry."

"What did I say about apologizing?"

"Not for Countess. I'm sorry if the way you loved me ever felt like a burden.” He swallows.

You remember the words you said to Rosemary earlier about what love should be like.

“Ben- do you want me to tell you the truth?”

“Always.”

 You sigh, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone. “Sometimes it did, but only because I’d loved you for so long and it always felt like I was trying to hold on to who you were before you became Soldier Boy and trying to run to catch up. Like I had to change who I was to keep you happy and I really just wanted you to be happy Ben. You weren’t happy when we were kids and you were so excited about being supes and I-“

“I was happy when I was with you.” Ben whispers leaning his forehead against yours. “When you were gone I wasn’t. When I went away on those stupid filming trips and you were at your apartment all I thought about was getting back to you. I didn’t care about the films or the fame, if you weren’t there I didn’t see a point. And all I wanted was for you to be happy too, but not like that-“

“It wasn’t always bad, just sometimes. When I’d have to intervene between you and someone else or when you’d come to my apartment smelling like someone else or when I’d occasionally walk in on you and another woman in your apartment or at herogasm.” You sigh. “I didn’t have a right to feel the way I did. I shouldn’t have been jealous, you didn’t belong to me-“

“But I do.” He doesn’t blink, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t look remorseful for sharing too much. “Always. And I swear that I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you, choosing you like you chose me that night.”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you sit there on his lap, feeling the familiar contours of his body wrapped around yours. “I don’t regret it.” You murmur. “You are my family. And I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You’re not going to lose me. I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too Ben.”

He kisses you fiercely, taking away any pain from the past and finally making you forget the moments he was gone, because now he was here and he wasn’t going anywhere. Ben presses his forehead back into your chest, tightening his grip on your waist.

You take in a deep breath smelling the comforting smells that you ascribe to Ben, but there's another smell that's coming from somewhere in the room. It's familiar, but you can't place it. In the corner of your eye something is moving, and you glance to the right noticing for the first time that the sliding glass door is open, the floor length curtains fluttering in the breeze and you knew for a fact that you’d left it closed.

“That’s so cute.” A familiar voice says.

Your entire body goes cold, the warmth you felt with Ben fading almost instantly. Ben's head shoots up from where it was resting on your chest, to stare at something or rather someone behind the two of you.

"You know, it really is every kid's dream that after all these years-" Homelander sighs happily. “ their parent's still love one another."

He was lounging in one of the sitting chairs at the opposite side of the room, his ridiculous cape draped over the back like a train as he watched the two of you in bed.

You can't move, can't breathe.

 He's here. How is he here? How did he find us?

You rack your brain trying to think about what to do, but all you can do is hold on to Ben. It wasn't that you were afraid for yourself, you knew that you could take him down if need be, the exact thing that you'd been considering the entire day, but you mind drifts to Rosemary and Lou upstairs.

 “But I can see why dad loves you so much mom. I mean you are so beautiful and you look really good for your age." His eyes glimmer black in the light and he has the audacity to wink.

Ben’s body immediately pushes yours behind him to block you from view. “What the fuck do you want you sick son of a bitch?” Ben snarls.

“Don’t talk about mom that way.” Homelander grins. But it’s the smile of a shark, pretty until it gets too close. All teeth and gums and things that come in the darkness to swallow you whole.

"How did you find us?" You swallow still thinking of Lou upstairs sleeping comfortably.

"I have you to thank for that mom." Each time he says the word 'mom' you try not to flinch. "I was flying by to see Stan when I watched the two of you 'talk' and when you left I followed you here."

I did this. I'm the reason why he found us. I was too wrapped up in what happened to fucking check if anyone was following me.

"You know the other day when we first met I was angry that you were able to hold me off, but watching you with Stan," Homelander chuckles. "That was inspired. Something special. I didn't realize how powerful you really were. And that tornado the other day- wow."

Another cold chill traces the length of your spine.

How long has he been watching us? Flying around outside of the house, staring through windows, watching from the shadows, marking our every move?

Another thought follows. He knows about Lou.

"I'm so honored to have a mother like you. And Soldier Boy as a father." Homelander's eyes trace over the two of you appreciatively. "It's a dream come true."

There was something haunting about the way he spoke to the two of you, almost as if the child that grew up in a lab was coming out, almost with childlike wonder and awe.

"I can't believe they tried to keep our family apart for so long." Homelander's gaze softens when he stares at the two of you. "That Vogelbaum and Stan Edgar decided that it would be better for me to be out of your lives but here I am after all these years, reunited."

Ben's right arm tightens where it's wrapped around your waist, his hand pressed into you back as he puts himself between you and Homelander. You can feel his skin heating with the force of his rage, hear the way his heart has begun to beat faster as he tries to think of a way out of this.

You weren't going to tell Homelander that he was your son, you thought it would be easier that way, with him not knowing that fact. Thought that it would be easier for you to dispose of him if he didn't call you 'mom' but now? It was harder.

Harder to look at him when you could see the subtle ways he looked like Ben, see the proud nose that reflected your father, smell the hairspray that covered the dark brown he must have had, see the strong jaw, the same one that you'd traced with your fingertips on Ben's face, and see the small freckles under the smudged makeup of Homelander's cheeks, the same ones the Ben and Rosemary had.

"I was angry when I found the files at Vought, when I saw exactly how hard they worked to keep us all apart. But I'm here now-"

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben spits.

Homelander blinks for a moment confused. "Isn't it obvious? I'm here for you. I want to be apart of this family. I see how you are with Lou and Rosemary and I want that. And I can't wait for you to meet your other grandson Ryan. I'm finally going to give him the family he deserves."

"We don't want anything to do with you." Ben's eyes narrow and Homelander frowns.

"I understand." Homelander stands from the chair he's sitting in, and this time Ben rises from the bed. He's shirtless, but with Ben it didn't matter what he was wearing, he could look damn intimidating when he wanted to. "Butcher's told you all about me right?" Homelander tsks. "Little William Butcher. He's always had it out for me-"

"He has a right to." You narrow your eyes and slide out of Bed so that you're standing beside Ben.

Homelander tilts his head to the side as if trying to think about what you're trying to say, but then he laughs. "Oh you're talking about Becca right? Little tease. I'm sure dad here can relate to the idea that some women, just really do ask for it, right?"

Your jaw tightens in repulsion as a wave of nausea comes surging up from the pit of your stomach realizing exactly the type of monster Homelander was. He wasn't a hero, he was a predator, a venus fly trap complete with all the pretty things to draw you in only to swallow you whole and leave no semblance of yourself behind.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Ben spits. "I'm a lot of things, but I'd never do that to a woman, not if she begged me to stop, not if she didn't want it."

Homelander shrugs. "Don't knock it til you try it."

"You're sick." You could feel your eyes shifting to purple, the room beginning to tremble with the force of your anger and disgust.

"No." He holds up a finger. "I'm not. That's just William, making you believe that I'm unhinged."

"Butcher has not made us believe anything. We've seen it." You respond. "I've seen it in the way you look at people, seen it in the way you smile, in the way you fight, seen it in your eyes-"

"You don't know-"

"I do. Something about us Homelander, is that when you've lived as long as we have, we know what a monster looks like."

"I'm not a monster." His smile drops into a frown.

"You are."

"I'm your son-" Homelander sputters.

"You might be our blood, but you're not our son." The words break you to say, but you hold it together. "Look I'm sorry. Sorry that you grew up that way. Sorry that they turned you into this. Sorry that Ben and I weren’t involved in your life, that we couldn’t have prevented the man you became."

"But-" Homelander glances from Ben to you in confusion.

"My father always saw the good in people." You continue, feeling the emotions at war in your chest, the ones that tell you that this man is your son and the ones that tell you this man is a monster. Your eyes skate over him. “But I don’t see any in you. You’re unredeemable. And as much as it hurts us to push you away, because you of all people need a family.   We're going too, because we don’t see any good in you."

Homelander stands there surprised, and you see the façade fall for just a moment, noticing the anger, pain, suffering, sadness, and rage that war within him, each emotion skating across his face in tandem with one another.

"But I found you." Homelander's eyes are misty. "I'm here. I'm your son! I'm your blood." He repeats, his voice breaking in a way that tugs at your heart.

"You might be our blood." Ben repeats watching Homelander. "But you’re not our son. You're just a disappointment."

If you didn't know Ben, you wouldn't understand the weight of those words, but you knew Ben better than anyone, knew how many times that his own father shouted those words at him. You remembered the nights that Ben crawled in through your window after the fights and when he thought you'd fallen asleep you could feel Ben tremble. You hated that his father did that to him and you worked hard to make sure that he didn't hurt as much as he had, just as Ben worked hard to make sure that you didn't remember the things your mother had said and done to you.

Before Homelander can respond, you feel someone else enter the room.

"Aunty y/n? I couldn't sleep. I had a nightmare and I can't find mommy." You hear Lou's voice say and your head turns to the doorway that leads into the basement. Lou is standing there, rubbing her eyes with one hand wearing her matching pink polka dot pajamas. Homelander turns his head to look at the little girl, the red in his eyes fading as he does, a sickening smile beginning to twitch against his lips.

"You must be my niece, Lou." He takes a step towards her and Rosemary appears in the doorway behind her, quickly pushing Lou behind her.

Rosemary does not back down from Homelander's gaze. It wasn't in her nature. She was too much like Ben and like you for her own good.

"And there's sissy." His smile is triumphant as he glances back at you and Ben.

"I'm not your anything." Rosemary's eyes narrow at Homelander.

His frown vanishes again, this time replaced with a snarl. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous this is?" The playful cadence in his voice is gone. "He was gone for forty fucking years and you brought him back into your lives! So what about me?" He shouts so loud you're sure the house is shaking, gesturing at Ben angrily.

"It's different." Your voice is cold.

"How is it different?"

"Because Ben is human." Rosemary answers. "You're not."

You turn to look at her in shock. It was the first time that she'd defended him since he got back, the first time that she had said something remotely kind about Ben to you or in front of him. Ben looks just as stunned as you do.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Homelander takes another step towards Rosemary, but she doesn't back down. "I am human. More human than you. I see the world for what it really is. I don't follow the rest of the fucking sheep like you-"

"You've been poked, prodded, and told that you were a god every day of your life. Just because we have powers does not mean that we are gods. We bleed, we live, and we die. And maybe somewhere along the way we're lucky to be loved and to love." She snaps. "But you don't. You can't feel love or remorse. You're a fucking monster not a hero. You think you're a hero just because Vought has given you that title. You're nothing more than a little boy chasing after a family you never had and you never deserved. You're not my brother, you're not their son, you're not our family. You're just something that was cut out of my mother, another scar, another manipulation, another science experiment that went wrong, and another way that Vought has ruined her life."

Lou cowers behind her mother, holding tightly to her leg, while Rosemary's hand circles behind her daughter to hold her tighter against her. It was the same thing that Ben was doing to you. You felt genuine fear for the first time in years, fear that you would lose them because of this.

Because Homelander was unhinged, manic, and insane. He might have kept it all hidden under the blonde hair, blue eyes, and the smile, but you saw through it. You'd met supes like him before and you knew that you would meet others in the years to come.

"You got everything didn't you? A loving family? A mother who loved you? A home? You got to be in your child's life. You had everything I didn't have." His voice is eerily calm. "And for what? So you could work at a fucking hospital and degrade yourself, our bloodline, and the fucking power you have to be a slave to other people?!”

Rosemary freezes.

"That's right I know all about you. Know all about all of you. Know about that fucking freak Charlie they inserted into your life, know exactly how much Vought wants Lou. Vought has files upon files about each of you, everything you’ve done, your powers." His eyes flick to the little girl hiding behind her mom. "And yet I'm the disappointment." Homelander's eyes flash back to where Ben and you are standing, something murderous building behind them, before they focus back on Rosemary. "I should have had your life. I'm the one who deserves it! I'm the hero. I'm the one who's more powerful."

You knew that the situation was growing worse by the minute, but with Lou thrown in the mix you weren't sure how this was going to go. You didn’t want her in the line of fire, wished that she had stayed in bed upstairs.

"Mommy I'm scared." You hear Lou whisper as she clutches on to Rosemary tighter.

"Don't be scared Lou." Homelander smiles wide, so wide you can see all his teeth. "This will all be over soon."

The words chill you to the bone, but before you can react, Homelander flies at Rosemary knocking her back through the bathroom wall and away from Lou. Her body crashes through solid tile and bathroom mirror with a resounding crack that echoes through the bedroom.

And just as you leap forward to take him on, Homelander grabs Lou.

There were only a few moments in your life that you’d ever known genuine fear. The day you got the serum, the day that you took the bullet for Ben and you thought you were going to die, and the day that you went into labor. But this was different. Seeing Homelander holding on to Lou wiped away any of those other moments in your life.

Your entire body catches fire with anger and fear. "Put her down." Your voice is unrecognizable, hands clenched into fists. You felt your eyes shift back to a threatening purple, everything in the room trembling under your power, the wood paneling on the wall beginning to peel back and reveal the concrete underneath.

What kind of sick person uses a child as a shield?

Lou squirms in his arms, but Homelander just holds her tighter against him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because if you don't I'm going to-" Ben snarls taking a step towards him. Ben's body has already begun to glow, seeping out from his heart as the force of his anger grows with every passing second.

"You're going to what?" Homelander's smile is sinister. "Because it seems to me that you can't do anything to me without poor little Lou here taking the brunt of it."

Rosemary appears covered in plaster, dust, and with pieces of mirror in her dark hair that catch the light in a way that makes her hair sparkle. "Put her down you narcissistic asshole." She snarls, her eyes turning red.

You figured it was because he had touched her, but deep down you hoped that Rosemary still had apart of your power, so you didn’t have to worry about her dying.

Lou tries to reach for her mom, but Homelander holds her closer to him. Tears have begun to trickle down her little cheeks. "Mommy?” She sobs quietly.

"Shh. It's okay sweetie." Homelander purrs bouncing her in his arms. "I've got you."

"Please put her down." You say it calmly, but you can feel your heart jumping around in your chest, beating against your ribcage. You didn't know how to fix this and didn’t know how to appeal to him, not after you'd spent the past twenty minutes telling him that you wanted nothing to do with him and that he wasn't your son. “We can talk this out. She doesn’t have to be apart of this.”

"Sorry no can do. I’m kind of tired of talking to you and to him.” Homelander gestures to Ben with his free hand, who isn’t glowing anymore.   “You might not want me apart of your family, but I want Lou apart of mine."

"What?" You croak.

"I think she should meet her cousin. And I think that Ryan would do a lot better with another child in his life, especially one that's supposed to be so powerful." Homelander continues rocking Lou back and forth. "But don't worry. I'll make sure that she's taken care of. And I’ll make sure she reaches her full potential.”

His eyes lock on yours and the chill of his words set in.

“Wait what?” Rosemary says.

But you understand too late.

Homelander shoots upward through the ceiling with Lou screaming in his arms as pieces of rubble crash down into the bedroom Ben and you share.

"No!" You scream in horror and rage, and rise up off the ground, but before you can follow behind Homelander, Ben wraps his arms around your waist to hold you down against him, refusing to let you go alone to face Homelander. “Ben let me go I can-“ By now your voice is nothing more than a shrill scream, tears pouring from your eyes as you struggle against his iron grip. “Please let me go! I have to go after him-”

“You’re not going to face him alone!” Ben shouts back holding you tighter.

But he can’t stop Rosemary.

She flashes past you in pursuit, up through the hole in the ceiling that Homelander left behind, and leaving you to sob and beat your fists against Ben’s chest wishing that it had been you instead.

A/N: Alright I had to make the first part just a little bit spicy to feel better about the devastation at the end of this chapter.

And I know another cliffhanger, but I promise there is something coming after this and we are quickly reaching the end of this series. 😊

I also want to let everyone now that I have decided to end this series when we get there without any reach into season 4. I do have some very cute ideas for little fics between this reader and Ben following season 3.

However, I am going to write an alternate ending and when we get to season 5 of The Boys with Soldier Boy back in action, I am going to release it and write for season 5, I think. That’s the plan right now, but who knows? I've also got some great ideas for other series I might want to start eventually.

Also anyone getting Syndrome vibes or is it just me? It was not intentional 😂

As always thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know :)

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[princessbrunette]

thinking abt mouse!reader x jj x kook!pope trying to hide an at first minor foot injury cos she has a big audition or smth coming up and she refuses to miss it :((

but as it gets worse they both notice her hobbling around and wincing whenever she walks and literally force her to stay home the night of the audition, even thought it kills them to make her sad her health comes first always

them having to hold her while she cries and yells at them for the first time cos she wanted to do it so bad :(( i love her sm u guys don't get it

ᡣ𐭩 🤍｡🩰ꪆৎ ˚⋅.

it was a full blown tantrum. crying and thumping on chests, snot gathering beneath your sore nostrils. honestly, it was the most noise you’d ever made in one sitting — and you’d been double penetrated.

jj has managed to subdue you, having you curled on a ball in his lap, one fist clutching his shirt and the other clutching popes sweater threateningly as you let out hoarse sobs against his chest. there was a little inkling in the back of popes throat, an itch he wanted to scratch to tell you that you were being a little dramatic and that it wasn’t like someone had died, but he darent — not right now, not whilst you were like this.

the breakdown hadn’t occurred because they sat you down and told you that you were far too injured to compete, it occurred because you knew they were right. you were sneaky by nature, always good at hiding when you’d stolen something or slightly twisting things occasionally as to not get in trouble with the protective pair — but this was something that you couldn’t hide. the slight winces and secret downing of pain meds had turned to limping to full blown hobbling. you were scared, and the boys telling you out loud that you were too injured to compete made it all the more real.

“look, what can i do t’make it better? cheese? y’want cheese? i’ll run to the store right now and buy you that fancy ass board. y’know the one you asked me for last week but i only had two dollars and an old sucker in my pocket?” jj rocks you, forehead creased in urgency like he just wanted to spring up and fix the problem immediately. pope stares into space, rubbing at his jaw in thought.

“no! i want to compete!” you complain, making the blonde sigh.

“yeah, well… we just can’t have that right now sweetcheeks, y’know we ain’t tryna hold you back…” he genuinely sounds upset, wishing there was a way around this. popes hand moves to your back, rubbing it in circles like you’re a newborn baby who won’t sleep through the night. “what can i do, babe?” jj groans quietly, mostly thinking out loud.

“nothing.” pope speaks suddenly and firmly, a calm yet film tone in his voice. “we can’t do anything. but look at me, sweetheart—” he cups your chin and gently guides you to look up at him. his eyes are all wide and desperate, begging you to understand him and you soften, realising only now how difficult you were being. “this is for the best. what kind of boyfriends would we be if like… we just let you go and dance on your injured foot? you could injure it further and then, what? you never dance again? not on my watch.”

your shoulders sink a little, his words getting through to you finally. you sniffle, a few more fat tears rolling down your cheeks and jj is quick to swipe them. “c’mon, no more o’that.” he mutters.

“so tonight…” pope stands, dusting his sweatpants down and grabbing his phone. “you’re gonna sit, and rest that foot. we’re gonna watch a movie and order pizza.” he decides, leaning down again to be eye level with you. you blink slowly, nodding slightly filling the two with relief.

“but i get to pick the movie. sorry, nothin’ you can do about it.” jj grins, tickling your ribs and you let out a raspy giggle.

“no, jj, you don’t. last time you picked something weird.” pope calls as he wanders off to the bathroom.

“yo mamas weird.” jj mutters in retaliation, shifting you on his lap so that he could dig the tv remote from the centre of the couch.

ᡣ𐭩 🤍｡🩰ꪆৎ ˚⋅.

[death---dealer]

Blue eyes sounds so much like his father when he speaks, kinda scary

You guys did this to me YOU GUYS---- You knew it was a bad idea to have your back to the mouth of the nest you shared with Blue Eyes. He had told you on more than one occasion, using rather tedious signs that you weren't sure their meaning until he explained in more detail. You need to keep awareness at all times, especially given the precarious nature of your... Well human-ness in the Colony. Not a threat to many, but to enough that Blue Eyes liked to keep his head on a swivel and urged you to do the same. "(Name)." You didn't bother turning around as you placed another animal pelt, neatly folded, one of those small Human things that Blue Eyes found remarkably endearing otherwise he was just rolling into an unmade bed at night, which it would often end up that way regardless, but he takes it upon himself as a challenge to see how messed up it can get by morning time. That voice, such a delectation to your ears had to be Blue Eyes himself. He didn't speak often, but he had spoken enough to you in the heat of moments, passing fleeting times where you two managed to get each other alone. It was hard around the edges but swept into mild tenderness the longer you thought about, the more you heard. The spark of electricity shot down your spine as you smiled at the sound of your name. "I was waiting for you to come back. Guess what I'm not wearing."

The flirtatious notions hidden in your tone was incredibly underlying but detectable as Blue Eyes drifted towards you. In many moments of obliviousness, he finally did catch on here and there, taking in stride when you were being suggestive, flirty or downright dirty at times ( the latter is reserved for those moments that Blue Eyes is so entangled in his own self that you say something just to get a shock from him ). Twisting your body around, you expected to see your mate but instead came face to face with well... His Father. Astute green eyes locked onto your own, dancing a bit with the implications of your previous words before he dropped his glance to your lips and then off to fixate on a point of interest on the wall to the left. The heat eradicated your insides first to the point where it felt like you were going to throw up before it took its time slowly dancing along the bridge of your cheeks, upwards to the very tip of your ears. You needed to say something before this situation got a lot worse, before you were unable to come back from it. "C-Caesar." You tried to laugh but it was nothing more than a straggled cry of sorts. "G-Geez, Blue Eyes sounds just..." Caesar's eyes narrowed at your words, silent and introspective as always, "Just like you." Managing to stumble that out, you shuffled your feet a bit and scooted backwards until the back of your knees hit the very edge of the nest. "Where is he?" Ah, that's why he was here. He was on the prowl for his Son. Made sense, you thought to yourself and placed a hand on your cheek experimentally. Yup, still hot under your touch, finger tips lining along your cheekbone before you dropped your hand slowly, "He uh... Went fishing with Ash. He was supposed to be back soon---" "I gathered than from your... Lack of wearing something." You blinked, mouth drawing open to say something but nothing came out other than a small puff of air. If you didn't know any better, and had you not been with Blue Eyes, you would almost presume Caesar just... flirted.

"I-I'll let him know you need him when he gets back." Giving one last glance at you, head to toe, slower than you would have liked as he lingered on a few fixed points along the way, Caesar only nodded and turned to walk away.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 20 - What Is And What Should Never Be (Part One)

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Hi beauties! Another late update because I started working full time again and I barely even have time for myself. I'm warning you, my updates are going to be much slower from now on. I'm so sorry😭❤️

I know the season finale is next but I will definitely try my absolute best to finish them in time but the only day I get to write now is literally Sunday since its my only day off 💔i said it once, and I’ll say it again I HATE ADULTING

Alright, enough of my rambling. I hope you guys enjoy it!! <3

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Joliet, Illinois

Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Saturday Night Special’ was blasting through the Impala’s deck as Dean drove. His phone rang and he instantly picked it up upon seeing Y/N’s contact. “Yeah?” Dean answered, “There’s a cop car outside” Y/N whispered into the phone that was on speaker, currently holed up in her motel room with Sam and Jo.

She slightly creased the curtain, standing at the window with a worried expression. “You think it’s for us?” Dean asked. “We don't know” Sam responded, moving from his bed where he and Jo sat to speak into the phone next to Y/N. “I don’t see how it could be for you guys. You ditched the plates, the credit cards.” Jo chimed in. Sam and Y/N let out a breath of relief when the cop car drove away.

“They’re leaving. False alarm” Y/N told Dean as Sam moved back to his bed. “See. There's nothing to worry about, sweetheart” Dean assured her. “Yeah, being fugitives is a fucking dance party” Y/N sassed, pacing the room. Sam snorted at her humor in agreement as he flipped through the books on his bed along with Jo. They were currently hunting a Djinn.

“Hey, chicks dig the danger vibe.” Dean chuckled, “Isn’t that right, Jo? You can’t tell me knowing Sammy is a wanted man isn’t getting your knickers in a twist” Dean’s amused voice boomed through the speaker. Jo blushed and flipped him off even though she knew he couldn’t see her before she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t talk about my knickers, prick!” She retorted as Y/N buckled over in laughter. “That’s not exactly a no, asshole” Dean teased, hearing Y/N’s laugh in the background. Sam threw himself down on his bed, covering his face with a pillow and groaned. “I can’t listen to this,” he complained in a muffled tone.

“Leave the lovebirds alone” Y/N joked after sobering up from her laughter, this made Jo toss a pillow at her as Sam groaned again. Y/N quickly dodged it, blowing Jo a playful kiss. “You got anything?” Y/N asked, changing the subject. “Are you kidding me? How could I? You got me sitting through, like, 50 square miles of real estate here” Dean sassed, making Y/N roll her eyes.

“Well that’s where all the victims disappeared” Y/N pointed out as Sam finally uncovered his face and returned to flipping through his books. “Yeah, well. I got diddly squat. What about you guys?” Dean asked, Y/N looked over at Sam hopefully. He shrugged before gesturing for her to hand him the phone. She did just that.

“We got just one thing. I’m pretty sure of it now. We’re hunting a Djinn” Sam told Dean. “A fucking genie?” Dean cackled, “Yeah.” Sam nodded as Jo tossed her feet up on his lap and Y/N dug through her bag to get her cigarettes. “So what? You think these suckers can really grant wishes?” Dean mused as Y/N lit her cigarette.

“We don’t know. I guess they’re powerful enough. But not exactly like Barbara Eden in harem pants” Jo chimed in as Sam ran his hands up and down her shins. “Yeah, I mean, djinn have been feeding off of people for centuries. They’re all over the Koran” Sam added as Y/N propped herself up on the window still. “My God. Barbara Eden was hot, wasn’t she?” Dean muttered.

“Damn straight. Way hotter than that Bewitched chick” Y/N agreed from across the room. Sam scoffed in annoyance as Jo rolled her eyes, the two shooting Y/N a judgemental look. “Are you two even listening to me?” Sam chastised Dean and Y/N. The psychic pursed her lips, trying to hide her amused smile as she took a drag from her cigarette.

“Ahem. Yeah. So where do the djinns lair up?” Dean asked, clearing his throat. “Ruin, usually. The bigger, the better. More places to hide” Sam explained to him. “Yeah. I think I saw a place a couple miles back. I’m gonna go check it out” Dean told them. Sam’s hands paused on Jo’s shin as he and Y/N’s eyes widened with panic.

Y/N quickly crushed her cigarette in her ashtray, darting over to snatch the phone from Sam. “Are you stupid?! Come pick us up first” Y/N said firmly, “Nah. I’m sure it’s nothing. I just wanna take a look around” Dean assured her. Sam, Jo and Y/N shared an unsure look as Dean hung up the phone.

Y/N sighed heavily, stuffing her phone into her pocket. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this” Sam muttered, worry plastered on his face, “Me too” Y/N agreed.

-

Meanwhile, Dean pulled in-front of the old warehouse. A storm was coming as the thunder clapped. He abruptly exited the Impala, shutting the door as he took out his flashlight. Dean clicked on his flashlight, shining it around the dark surroundings before heading towards the building.

The large door on the front of the building was already open, slightly creaking as it rocked a bit back and forth thanks to the wind. Dean stepped in, immediately noticing all the cobwebs and piles of dirt and sand everywhere. He glanced around with his flashlight, noticing the piles of clothing lying among the debris, and the sound of footsteps made his ears perk up.

He immediately clutched his knife dipped in lamb’s blood, clenching his jaw. Dean stepped closer to the sound of the footsteps, his footsteps light and his ears on high alert. The footsteps continued, and Dean felt his heartbeat start thumping in his ears as the dread started to fill his stomach.

Suddenly, the djinn lunged out from behind a pile of clothes. It was a flash, one moment Dean was simply walking and the next his back was slammed backwards against a wall. The back of his head stung and he was briefly disoriented, dropping his knife as white spots danced in his vision.

Dean grunted as the Djinn’s hand gripped his throat, trying to fight the monster off. The Djinn’s eyes flashed a dark shade of blue, along with his hand. Dean struggled and grunted as the Djinn pressed his glowing tatted hand to his forehead, the hunter’s eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fell in a sleep-like state.

____________________________________________

Dean’s Dream World

Lawrence, Kansas

Dean gasped awake in the middle of the night to thunder clapping. His eyes wide as he struggled for breath. He found himself in an unfamiliar bed with a naked woman next to him. He tilted his head in confusion as he leaned down to see who the woman was, the last thing he remembered was getting attacked by the Djinn.

Dean’s jaw plummeted to the ground when it turned out the woman next to him was Y/N, a blanket lazily draped over her chest, her back facing him. Dean began to panic instantly, wondering how in the fuck he ended up in bed…naked…next to Y/N fucking L/N.

His eyes drifted down to her lower back to see her anti possession tattoo was not there. His heart was in his ass at this point.

He sat up quickly, his eyes wide as the realization of the situation hit him. He put his hand up to his head and groaned. He glanced at Y/N’s sleeping form and swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw her eyes were shut. “Motherfucker” He mumbled, glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

4:32 A.M. He slowly removed the covers, silently standing up and grabbing his jeans off ground and quickly got dressed.

-

Now fully dressed, Dean exited the bedroom, strolling around the unfamiliar house. Not in any way used to the environment. He had no idea what the hell was going on. He switched on a light and did what his mind instantly told him to do. He called his little brother.

“Dean?” Sam answered, confused as to why his brother was calling him at this ungodly hour. “Sam?” Dean whispered in relief, trying to keep his voice at bay. “What’s going on?” Sam asked, concerned. “I don’t know where the fuck I am man” Dean told him. “What? What happened?” Sam gasped, now worried.

“Well, the uh, the djinn. It attacked me” Dean told him, running his hand over his face. “The gin? You’re drinking gin?” Sam’s brows furrowed. “No, dumbass. The djinn! The scary creature, remember?” Dean exclaimed lowly. “It put its hand on me and then I woke up in bed next to Y/N!!” Dean explained, his heart pounding out of his chest.

“You mean your fiancée?” Sam snorted. Dean’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped to the ground in surprise. “My WHAT!?” He exclaimed, eyes going even wider if possible. “My fiancée? When the fuck did that happen” He repeated, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Dean, you’re drunk. You’re drunk dialing me” Sam shook his head as he laughed. “No, I am not drunk! Quit fucking around!!” Dean exclaimed lowly, “Look. It’s late. Alright? Just get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Sam brushed it off, instructing his brother to sleep it off. “Wait. Sam! Sam!!” Dean gritted his teeth but the line went dead.

-

Palo Alto, California

Sam chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he sighed deeply before shutting his Criminal Law and Procedure book.

-

Lawrence, Kansas

Y/N heard Dean arguing and slowly awoke, eyes wide with confusion as she sat up and looked around. She realized Dean wasn’t in the bed with her anymore and her stomach dropped. She glanced at the bathroom, it was quiet so he couldn’t be in there. She then saw a faint light coming from the hallway.

Outside, Dean groaned as he looked around nervously. He quickly stuffed his phone into his pocket, his eyes landing on a stack of mail that was placed neatly ontop of the dining room table. His eyes widened again when he picked it up to see, ‘Y/N L/N. #53 Barker Ave. Lawrence, Kansas’ written on the first letter.

Inside their shared room, Y/N pulled the covers off her body before wrapping her light blue robe around her and slowly padded out into the hall, peering into the kitchen to see Dean rifling through mail.

“Lawrence?” Dean muttered to himself, sifting through the mail. ‘Dean Winchester. #53 Barker Ave. Lawrence, Kansas’ was written on the next letter. “What the fuck????” Dean mumbled, his heart stopped when a sleepy voice behind him said. “Charming?” He spun around to see Y/N, clutching her robe to her chest.

“What are you doing up?” Her soft voice of concern honeyed his ears. “Hey…Y/N” Dean said sheepishly as his ‘fiancée’ approached him. His heart beating out of his chest. “Y/N. I just- uh-” Dean stammered, “Oh, you can’t sleep, huh?” She cut him off in a sultry tone, running her hands over his chest. His eyes glanced down at his left hand to see a very familiar ring placed neatly on her ring finger.

The ring his father gave him the day he died belonged to his mother. Sam was indeed not lying when he said that Y/N was his fiancée. Dean’s breath got caught in his throat at Y/N’s touch and the tone in her volume. “Yeah,” Dean chuckled nervously. “Well, why don’t you come back to bed and let’s see if I can do anything to help?” Y/N suggested, her voice low as she snaked her arms around his neck.

Dean shivered involuntarily when Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. He felt his whole body stiffen as her fingers traced the nape of his neck. His cheeks began to heat up as his eyes looked down at her, the blue robe she was wearing hugged her body perfectly. The low tone of her voice sent a small jolt down to the pit of his stomach.

“Well- um- Princess- ” He mumbled nervously as he tried to make an excuse. He didn’t get a chance to say anything again when she attached her lips to his. Dean’s eyes widened as Y/N’s lips crashed onto his own. He let out a small gasp of surprise against her mouth at her sudden movement.

His brain shut down as his hands automatically moved to grab her waist. Dean shut his eyes, groaning in the back of his throat at the feel of her lips finally against his. But it didn’t feel right. It felt off, he knew the Djinn had something to do with this but he couldn’t wrap his mind around it since the love of his life, the woman he believed didn’t him love back, Y/N fucking L/N’s tongue was down his throat.

The kiss deepened as she parted her lips for him and slowly began to pull him back towards the bedroom. Dean’s brain was screaming to stop. This wasn’t what he wanted, but the feel of her lips against his. The way her tongue was exploring his mouth. It was driving him crazy. And he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her back.

His tongue slipped into her mouth, moving against hers. He moaned low, the sound getting muffled by the kiss. He backed her up against the wall of the hallway, pinning her there with his body.

SNAP OUT OF IT WINCHESTER!

“No, no. Stop” Dean whined, forcefully peeling himself away from her. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t have sex with her. As much as he wanted to, so fucking badly. He couldn’t do it. Not like this.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and her smile faded from her face at his words. “Huh?” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. She leaned her back against the wall and tilted her neck to look up at him. “Why?” She asked confused as he ran hand through his hair, putting a decent amount of distance between y/n and him.

She stepped closer to him again, placing her hands on his chest. “C’mon baby.” She whispered in a seductive tone, a small smirk on her lips, “What’s wrong? You’re not one to deny sex” She asked concerned. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as she spoke, his breathing becoming a bit more labored.

“Y/N, I- ” He began, his mind racing to find words to explain the situation. But then Y/N pressed chest to his, her palms pressing into his chest. Dean’s mind immediately went blank as she looked up at him with those damn eyes. That damn look is gonna kill him. “I’m just tired, sweetheart” Dean lied fluidly, praying she’ll take the bait.

Y/N’s expression softened a bit as she stared up at him. She could tell it was a lie, by his facial expressions, but she didn’t push him for answers. “Oh, baby” She said tenderly, her hand moving up to caress his cheek. “Why don’t you come back to bed then. I’ll just hold you. How does that sound?” She asked, her voice sweet as honey.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat as she placed her hand on his cheek. Getting held by Y/N didn't sound like a bad idea right about now. His eyes flicked down to her lips, wanting to kiss her again.

God, it’d be so easy.

He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply, leaning his head against hers. “You go ahead, I’m right behind you” He whispered. Dean wanted this to be real, he was praying it was. Y/N’s lips curled into a soft smile at his reply. She brushed her thumb over his cheek before standing on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead softly.

“Alright, don’t take too long” She whispered, patting his shoulder before making her way back to the bedroom. At the doorway, she gave him one last glance before heading back into the bedroom.

Dean groaned under his breath as he watched her disappear into the room. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Dean’s mind was racing. This was all wrong. How the hell did he end up naked in bed with his friend who he was secretly in love with but also his supposed ‘fiancée’?

This was all some sick game the djinn was playing with him. Dean knew they possibly granted wishes, it was no secret that Dean wished for y/n to be his…could it be? Could the Djinn have actually given him what he desperately wanted? Even though he never said it out loud, is it possible the Djinn knew somehow?

Dean began to investigate the house, peering around the living room. He took in the pictures of him and y/n that were placed neatly around the room. Pictures of them on vacation with y/n wearing a big floppy hat, pink two piece bikini and Dean in a matching white shirt with pink swim trunks on.

Dean’s heart nearly leaped out of his chest as he picked up a photo of him and y/n at a beach. It was summer, both of them were soaked, and both was wearing bright smiles with shades on. Dean’s hand trembled as he observed the picture.

He set it down before walking over to the bookshelf, he let his fingers brush over the spines of each book. He was trying to look for a clue, anything to tell him this wasn’t real.

He went back to looking at the pictures. A small smile gracing his face when his eyes landed on a frame that held a picture of the two hugging. Y/N had a big grin on her face, holding out her hand to the camera, showcasing her engagement ring while Dean’s eyes were trapped on her. The starstruck gaze he had on her in the picture was oozing with love and admiration. The two seemed to be at a concert in the picture.

Dean felt his heart swell as he took in the picture. He had no recollection of any of these memories. Curiosity got the best of him, so he turned the picture frame around and took the picture out. Written on the back was ‘Bon Jovi, Nashville Tennesse. February 14th, 2006. She said yes!’ In his handwriting.

His heart leaped to his throat again as he read the writing. This must be when he proposed to her. He sat down on the couch, a wave of emotions washed over him. His fingers trembled as he stared down at the picture in his hand.

Dean’s eyes scanned the room once again, his eyes landing on a particular picture. He thought he was gonna cry upon seeing it, his entire world stopped. Dean Winchester dropped the picture frame, the glass shattering on the ground and instantly left the house.

____________________________________________

The Impala pulled up to the Winchester residence, the L/N residence right across from theirs. Both houses were still intact, the L/N residence not burnt to a crisp. Dean shakily stepped out of the Impala, shutting the door behind him.

He walked up the porch and began banging on the door harshly, ringing the bell a few times until the light came on outside. The door opened to reveal a very alive and well Mary Winchester, a worried expression etched on her face. “Dean?” She said softly, sleep potent in her voice, clutching her robe to her chest.

Dean's eyes widened, tears welling up at his emerald irises. “Mom?” Dean gasped, “What are you doing here? Are you alright?” Mary asked her son, concerned. Dean gulped, unsure of how to feel at this exact moment. “I don’t know” He croaked. “Well, come inside” Mary ushered him inside. His body was stiff, still in shock but he managed to pull himself inside.

“Y/N just called and said you took off all of a sudden” Mary said as she shut the door behind her. “Y/N? Right…” Dean muttered, he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from his mother. His very alive mother. “Let me ask you a question. When I was a kid, what did you and Mrs. L/N always tell me when you put me to bed?” Dean asked as he swallowed hard, he wanted this to be real.

Mary’s brows furrowed in confusion as she folded her arms across her chest, “Dean, I don’t understand-” She was cut off, “Just answer the question” Dean snapped. His mothers eyes softened, “We told you angels were watching over you” Mary answered, Dean felt as though he was about to break down into pieces.

“I don’t believe it” Dean almost sobbed before pulling his mother into a tight hug. Mary grunted in surprise as her son’s strong arms engulfed her. Confused from the random show of appreciation, “Honey, you’re scaring me” The motherly tone in her voice echoed through his ears as she gently rubbed his back. “What’s going on?”

“You don’t think that wishes can- can really-?” Dean stammered, his words getting lost in his throat. “What?” Mary asked confused, “Forget it” Dean smiled, pulling his mother into a hug again that he longed for since he was a little boy. “Forget it. I’m just, uh— I’m happy to see you, that’s all” Dean held back his tears as he buried his face in his mother’s hair.

His brows creased, his breath constricting in his throat as he melted into the embrace before pulling away, “You're beautiful” Dean chuckled tearfully before pulling away. “What?” Mary gasped confused. The padding of footsteps made Dean’s ears perk up, his head swung around to see M/N, squinting her sleepy eyes at him.

F/N wasn’t in town, he was coming back tomorrow and M/N never liked staying alone in her house. So, it became tradition whenever either of their husbands went out of town, M/N and Mary would sleep in each other's guest room. Clutching her own robe to her chest, “Dean, what are you doing here?” Y/N’s mom asked him, equally confused.

“I-uh” Dean started, his words caught in his tongue again as he saw Y/N’s mom. Her hair was tousled, her eyes were tired and squinty from being dragged out of a dead sleep. “Mrs. L/N!?” Dean gasped, now engulfing his soon to be mother-in-law in a tight hug.

She was alive. His mother was alive. It was all surreal.

M/N chuckled and patted his back as she returned the hug with her own. Mary just stared at the two with a slight smile on her face. “It’s great to see you too, hun. But why are you here, now of all times?” She asked as she pulled a little away to look up at him.

“Uh- I uh- just missed you guys” Y/N’s mother chuckled at his words and pinched his cheek. “Aren’t you a sweet thing?” She teased, her lips curving into a small smile. “Did Y/N kick you out of the house again?”

Dean’s smile faltered slightly. He felt on the verge of tears again, the only thing keeping him grounded was the feel of M/N in his arms. Just the mention of Y/N set him off again. This time his lips started to tremble when he spoke.

“No- uh- I just-” He began but his voice was cracking. M/N could sense he was on the verge of tears and gently caressed his face. “Okay, sweetie calm down. You’re alright” She whispered in a motherly tone.

Dean felt his bottom lip tremble again. He hasn’t been comforted like this since he was four. He leaned into the comfort of his future mother-in-law. His eyes fluttered closed as M/N’s fingers gently touched his skin, he could practically hear her say ‘You’re okay, baby’.

“I’m fine,” Dean assured her shakily, pulling away from her gently. A broad smile on his face as he cleared his throat, wiping his mouth. His eyes scanned the room, staring at the picture frames that were propped up all about. “Hey, when I was- when I was young, was there ever a fire here? Or at your house?” Dean asked them.

Both women shared a confused look, “No. Never” Mary told him as Dean walked around the room. He saw a few pictures of both their families.

Of him and Sam as kids with their parents, seemingly on vacation.

One of Sam and Y/N, they looked to be in their teens, smashing cake in each other’s faces.

Another of Sam and Y/N wearing a graduation cap and gown, both holding up high school diplomas, Dean wasn't in this picture.

And another of Dean and Y/N, he was wearing a light colored dress shirt, dark jeans. His arm wrapped around Y/N, grins spread across their faces as he wore her graduation cap. This time, Y/N was holding up her degree.

A few more were framed of Sam, Dean and Y/N going to prom. Looking almost exactly like the ones they took years ago.

There was another one of the trio sitting on a couch, their arms folded across their chests and Y/N was sitting in the middle of the boys. It reminded Dean of a picture Bobby made their take years ago as teenagers.

There were more of Y/N and her parents, along with some of all three kids when they were young and another unfamiliar little girl who looked quite similar to Y/N with F/N and M/N. Dean tilted his head in confusion but brushed it off.

Dean’s heart swelled as he looked at the pictures, “I guess I was wrong” Dean mumbled, his eyes widened when his eyes landed on a picture of F/N and John, wielding softball bats, “Dad and Mr. L/N are on a softball team” Dean gasped. He turned to Mary and M/N who seemed to be still confused before clearing his throat.

“Their softball team. That’s funny to me” He covered up his stammering as he took in the picture. The idea of either men on a softball team was wild to him. Mary’s eyes landed on the ground as a sympathetic look took over M/N’s face. “He loved that stupid team” Mary mumbled, M/N noticed her friend’s look of heartbreak and gently placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Dean’s face dropped, his eyes snapping back to his mother. “Dad’s dead?” Dean asked, both Mary and M/N tilted their head at him from his question. Dean quickly recuperated, “And the thing that killed him was a-” He tried to find out. “A stroke. He died in his sleep, you know that” M/N said, shaking her head at him as tears welled up in Mary’s eyes.

As much as hearing his father was dead hurt him, Dean was happy to hear that his father didn’t go out the way he originally, “And F/N?” He asked M/N hopefully, “Out of town, you know that, it’s why M/N is here” Mary said, furrowing her eyebrows at her son. Dean nodded sheepishly before saying, “That’s great”

“Excuse me?” Mary gasped, Dean’s eyes widened when he realized how his words must’ve sounded. “That- that’s great. That he went peacefully, I mean it- and F/N fine….it’s sure beats the alternative” He said softly, placing the photo back down. Mary and M/N shared a knowing look, “You’ve been drinking” Mary pointed out.

“No, I haven’t. Mom” Dean sighed, assuring her. M/N nodded, not wanting to press anymore. “I’m just gonna call Y/N and have her come pick you up, okay?” M/N said calmly, taking her hand off of Mary’s shoulder to pick up the landline. “Wait. No. No, don’t do-” Dean quickly stopped her, holding her hand gently to place the landline back down.

“Don’t do that. Don’t do that” He begged, taking a proper look at her. “I wanna stay here” Dean told them, their faces contorted in confusion again. “Why?” Mary asked. “Because. I-i- I miss the place” Dean sheepishly lied. Mary and M/N shared a look again, both confused at what the hell was going on.

“It’s okay. You two go to bed, okay?” Dean assured them, moving to sit on the couch as he continued to scan the place with his eyes. Mary walked over to her son, placing a gentle hand on his face. “Are you sure you’re alright?” She asked him, the maternal tone potent. Dean’s heart swelled, his eyes softening. “I think so” He croaked, holding back tears again.

“Okay” Mary said sweetly, placing a kiss on his forehead. Dean leaned into the touch and the kiss, still trying not to cry. Mary pulled away and gave her son a small smile, “We’ll be in our rooms if you need us. I love you” The mother told him. M/N nodded in agreement as she and Mary turned to slowly walk out of the room.

“Me too,” Dean said softly. “I’ll get you a blanket” M/N told him gently. “Thanks” Dean croaked out, his voice low as he heard their footsteps fade away. He let out a shaky breath as his head fell into his hands.

He let himself take in a moment to process everything. Seeing his mother and m/n alive again, seeing them full of light and life again. Hearing that his father passed peacefully. Knowing that F/N was alive and well himself. This was the life he always longed for. The life he always secretly wanted.

Dean exhaled another shaky breath. ‘You’re okay. They’re all okay’ He assured himself, wiping his mouth as a tear rolled down his cheek. But it didn’t feel right, that little voice at the back of his head was telling him that this is not what he thinks it is. Not what he wants it to be.

He looked up when he heard footsteps re-enter the room, his eyes landing on Y/N’s mom as she walked toward him with a blanket in her hands.

She stopped at the edge of the couch before she gently laid the blanket over him. Dean’s body tensed as he felt the fabric being pulled over his lap. A feeling he hasn’t experienced for a very long time. M/N seemed to notice his tenseness, her eyebrows slightly furrowing, “What’s wrong?” She gently asked.

“Nothing” Dean replied, his eyes not leaving the blanket that rested against his legs. “Just tired” He muttered, shifting his body so he laid down as he leaned against the pillows. M/N gave him a soft smile. “I know that” She said softly before leaning down and placing a kiss on his temple.

Dean melted at the feeling on his skin again, closing his eyes and relishing the comfort he got from this simple action. It’s a feeling he always craved but never got. M/N gently pushed his hair away and gave his cheek an affectionate pinch. “Get some rest, honey, okay?” The woman told him gently.

Dean opened his eyes and met M/N’s loving stare, fighting the urge to cry again. “I will” He mumbled, a lump in his throat slowly forming. M/N smiled and gave him one last pat to the cheek before she pulled away, turning on her heel to head down the hall to the guest room. leaving him alone in the living room.

The second she was gone, a soft “Fuck” escaped his lips as a tear rolled down his cheek again. Dean allowed himself to succumb to the comfort, his mind finally stopped racing, the darkness of a peaceful sleep taking him over.

-

The next morning, Dean woke up on the couch. He shot up from his position after his eyes fluttered open.

It was real? It wasn’t a dream? What the fuck is going on?

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he stared at the picture frames again, his heart still aching from the comfort he’d received. He shook his head. “No. Something’s not right” He whispered to himself, his eyes landing back on the picture of him and Y/N on prom night.

He did the only thing he could think to do in a moment like this. He called his little brother. Dean fished his phone out of his pocket, dialing in Sam’s number but it went to voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. I can’t come to the phone-” He shut his phone, taking a deep breath.

He had to figure out what the fuck was going on, what this djinn did to him, or gave him.

____________________________________________

“Well I don’t think I’ve seen you in my class before” The professor said to Dean, leaning back in his chair. Dean sat across from the professor in his office, immediately going to the Lawrence local college for any answers on this Djinn. “You kidding me? I love your lectures. You- you make learning fun” Dean chuckled, pointing to the teacher who chuckled in response.

“So, what can I do for you?” The Professor asked. “What can you tell me about djinns?” Dean asked, clasping his hands in front of him as he leaned into his chair.

-

Now infront of several books filled with lore, “Well, a lot of Muslims believe the djinn are very real. They’re me times in the Koran” The Professor explained, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, i know. Get to the wish part” Dean said impatiently. “What about it?” The professor furrowed his brows. “Do you think they could really do it?” Dean asked.

The professor looked baffled, “Uh…no. No, I don't think they can really do it. But, you understand that these are mythic creatures?” The Professor pointed out. “Yeah. No, I know, I know. But, uh, I mean, in the stories” Dean clarified. “You know, say you had a wish, uh-” He cleared his throat, gulping before continuing.

“-but you never even said it out loud. You know, like that- uh. Some loved ones never died or something awful never happened. Or…uh...the girl you love starts loving you back? Is it possible?” Dean asked, swallowing harshly. “Supposedly, yes” The Professor shrugged. “I mean, they have godlike power. They can Alter reality however they want. Past, present, future” The Professor explained.

“Why would the djinn do it?” Dean queried, leaning down to look at the books as the Professor eyed him suspiciously. “What, self defense? Or maybe it’s not really evil” Dean muttered, hoping that he could stay in this reality. This beautiful, dreamlike reality. “Son?” The Professor asked, concerned. “Hmm?” Dean hummed.

“You been drinking?” The Professor questioned, his brows raised. Dean had to stop himself from laughing, “Everybody keeps asking me that, but, uh, no” He assured him with a cheeky smile.

-

Dean was now outside the college, opening the trunk to the Impala. He snorted upon opening it when his eyes landed on a couple of old magazines and trash in the trunk. “Well, who would’ve thought, Baby? We’re civilians” He chuckled, shutting the trunk.

Dean felt as though someone was watching him, so he looked across the street to see a young girl, looking almost terrified yet calm, staring right back at him. Dean looked shocked and confused as to why this young girl kept her eyes trained on him. Assuming she could be in trouble, he began to approach her.

He moved to walk across the road without looking at both sides and almost got hit by a red pick up. The tired screeching on the road as the driver hit the brakes. The driver beeped their horn and yelled inaudible curses at him as he stood in the middle of the road.

“Ah, sorry” He apologized, holding up his hands apologetically before turning his eyes back to the little girl, only to see she was now gone. Nowhere in sight. Dean felt something off in his stomach as he walked away.

____________________________________________

Now back at the Winchester household, Dean greedily and contently ate a sandwich prepared by his mom. He leaned back in his chair and allowed himself to relish the feeling of a home cooked meal. One of Mary’s favorites to make him, a chicken salad sandwich with extra pickle. A loud moan of content left his throat.

“Mmm. This is the best sandwich ever!” He exclaimed, his mouth filled with food. Mary chuckled lightly from where she was at the sink. “Thank you. M/N made you a pie before she left for the airport to pick up F/N. I’ll get you some”

“Pie?” Dean mumbled, perking up at the mention of it. He hadn’t had M/N’s pie in years, the only person who could almost replicate her recipe was Y/N. And he loved her pie but nothing could compare to M/N’s pie. Mary hummed in response and disappeared into the other room for a short moment.

He waited anxiously in his seat, his eyes bouncing back towards the doorway every other second, waiting for the woman to reappear with the pie. “I tried to get ahold of Sam earlier. Where-? Where is he?” Dean asked through a mouth full of food as he chewed.

“Oh, he’ll be here soon. M/N is picking him up too” Mary replied, setting down a plate of warm apple pie in front of Dean. “Good. Thanks mom, I’m dying to see him” He replied, picking up a fork and dug into the pie immediately. A small hum of contentment escaped his throat.

His eyes fluttered shut, his lips curled into a smile, “Sweetie, uh, don’t get me wrong.” Mary began, sitting across from Dean at the dining table. “I am thrilled you’re hanging out here all of a sudden” Mary said softly, placing her hand on Dean's shoulder before gently brushing her son's face. A content smile spread across Dean’s face, his cheeks still stuffed with pie as she said this.

“But, uh, shouldn’t you be at work?” She asked. “Work?” Dean’s face dropped. “At the garage” Mary said as if it were obvious. “Right. The garage. That’s where I work.” Dean chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah. I’ve got. the day off” Dean said as he took another heaped forkful of pie into his mouth. “Mmm” He moaned as his mother chuckled.

“That’s good. The boss man deserves a day off with how hard you work” Mary said. “Bossman?” Dean mumbled again, confused. “Yeah” Mary chuckled. “The one you and F/N own after your dad left his shares to you in his will?” Mary stated as if he was supposed to know this. Which he was, but obviously, Dean was confused.

A nervous laugh escaped his throat as he tried to compose himself, attempting to act as normal as possible. Mary tilted her head when she saw his bewildered look again before continuing, “Are you sure you haven’t been drinking?” She questioned a second time, her hand still gently resting on her son's face.

A lump formed in his throat as he looked at her. A feeling welling up in his chest. “Yeah, I’m sure, mom” He mumbled, forcing a smile. Mary looked worried for her son, wondering if he started drinking frequently again. But she nodded before pulling away, not wanting to rile him up as his eyes landed on the lawn outside the window. Picking up his pie, Dean padded over to the window.

He leaned down to get a better look before saying, “That lawn looks like it could use some mowing” Dean said excitedly as he stuffed his piehole with…..pie. Mary looked surprised at this, “You wanna mow the lawn?” She asked, amused. “Are you kidding me? I’d love to mow the lawn” Dean said enthusiastically like a kid on Christmas.

“Knock yourself out. I think you’d never mowed a lawn in your life” She snorted, sipping her coffee. Dean shrugged at her words but ignored them, he was just so excited to mow a lawn. The domestication of it all was heartwarming for him.

-

Dean reeled the chain back of the lawn mower, happily pushing the machine around the grass. He struggled a bit but quickly got the hang of it. He noticed a neighbor across the street throwing out trash, so he happily waved to the man, who awkwardly waved back at him.

Dean didn’t think too much of it, instead. He continued mowing the lawn.

-

After finishing up the yard work, Dean sat contently, relaxing on the steps to the porch of his mom’s house. A beer in his hand, He took a swig, “Ahhh” he breathed out. He let his head roll back, his eyes fluttered shut as he took in a deep breath, letting his eyes travel back to the lawn, the sweat on his forehead glistening as it hit the setting sunlight.

His thoughts got interrupted by the sound of a car pulling up, his eyes darted back towards the driveway. His eyes widened when he saw a car pull into the driveway, someone he believed to have been gone appeared. “I don’t believe it” Dean gasped as M/N pulled up with Jessica, Sam, and F/N. Jessica was alive and well.

Dean instantly pulled Jess into a tight hug, grunting as the college student gasped. “Jessica,” Dean said with relief. “Good to see you too, Dean” Jessica chuckled awkwardly, wiggling in his tight grip. “You’re okay” Dean mumbled in her hair. “Dean. Can’t breathe” Jessica groaned, causing Dean to finally let go.

Sam looked a bit confused at his brother, who now had a huge smile on his face, which was pretty rare when it came to him. Dean’s eyes landed on Y/N’s father, who was helping Sam unload the trunk. An almost tearstrucken expression was on Dean’s face, “F/N” Dean pulled him into a bone crushing hug as M/N smiled at the affection Dean displayed.

The two never had that since they were always at each other’s throats, oppositely contrasting real life. F/N’s eyes widened in disbelief and surprise at the hug. He instantly brushed him off, leading Dean to be confused. “It’s Mr. L/N to you, son,” He said sternly.

Dean’s smile faded as he looked at Y/N’s dad, slightly shocked. He took a step back, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle as he muttered an apology, “Right. Sorry, Mr. L/N” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, shooting a glance at Sam who shrugged in response.

M/N’s smile dropped at his rude response, she smacked her husband on his arm roughly. “Be nice!” She chastised him as Sam and Jessica shared an amused look. F/N winced and rubbed his arm where his wife smacked him before he let out a laugh, “Hey! I was nice” He protested. The corners of Dean’s mouth curled into a smile as he shoved his free hand in his pocket.

M/N rolled her eyes in response at her husband’s usual stern behavior to Dean before turning to him. “Tell your mom we’ll be right over, honey. We’re just gonna put his stuff away” M/N said gently to Dean, pointing to their house across the street before patting his cheek.

“Of course” Dean smiled, running a hand through his short cut hair. “See y’all in a minute” He called over his shoulder, watching as the married couple walked across the street with the luggage. M/N was firmly pointing at her husband for being rude while he said lowly, “What’d I do? I was nice” F/N protested.

But M/N wasn’t having any of it, “You were rude, and you know you were. You’re always like this with the boy” M/N said, shaking her head at her husband. Dean’s brows furrowed, confused as to why Y/N’s father seemed to not like him. But he brushed it off, shaking the thought.

“Sammy, look at you!” Dean then turned to his little brother, patting him on his shoulder. “You’re with Jessica, that's- I don’t believe it” Dean chuckled as Sam smiled. “Yeah” Sam said a little awkwardly. “Where'd you guys come from?” Dean asked the crew. “We just flew in from California” Sam Said as if Dean was supposed to know that.

“California! Stanford, huh? Law school, I bet” Dean exclaimed excitedly. Sam slightly scoffed at his enthusiasm, “I see you started off Mom’s birthday with a bang, as usual” Sam said with a bit of judgment, gesturing to his beer. Dean blinked twice, “Wait, Mom’s birthday. That’s- That’s today?” Dean stuttered.

Sam raised his brows at his brother, “Yeah. Yeah, Dean. That’s today. That’s why we’re here. Don’t tell me you forgot” Sam shook his head at him in disapproval. Dean gulped slightly, feeling guilty for not knowing, even though there was no way he could’ve even known.

____________________________________________

Later that night, the Winchester’s and L/N’s were dining at quite an exquisite restaurant for Mary’s birthday. The table was filled with chatter and laughter, “Wow, that- that looks awesome” Dean said sarcastically with a grimace as the waiter set down his food, which was practically asparagus on a stick. The table erupted in laughter as Y/N gently placed her hand on her fiancé’s thigh.

“Alright. To Mom, Happy Birthday” Sam put up his wine in a toast, “Happy Birthday” Y/N and Jess both said to her as everyone raised their glasses. Mary smiled happily, letting the warm feeling spread through her chest as she thanked her family. Jessica then leaned over to place a kiss on Sam’s lips.

Dean looked at the pair with awe, a warm feeling in his chest, he was beyond relieved to see his little brother happy. Though, he did wonder about Jo. But he put two and two together in his head, realizing that they met Jo on a hunt. So since they have a normal life, they never met.

“I was really worried about you last night” Y/N said softly to him, causing Dean to break his gaze away from the couple. “Oh, I’m- I’m good. I’m really good” Dean assured her, his heart skipping a beat at the feeling of her hand gently caressing his thigh. “Okay” Y/N nodded, though she didn’t believe him, but she decided not to push.

Her eyes flickered down to Dean’s very unappetizing looking food, a coy smile on her face. “Why don’t you say later we get you a cheeseburger and we can watch American Pie on Blu-Ray” Y/N said in a suggestive tone. “Oh God, yes” Dean almost moaned at the thought, causing Y/N to snort in response as lightly bit her lip.

Cheeseburgers and American Pie were code for “food and sex” when it comes to them. But Dean didn’t know that yet.

“How did I end up with such an amazing woman” Dean said with awe. A smile spread across Y/N features as she gently squeezed her fiancé’s thigh. “I’ve just got low standards” She joked. Dean snorted as He looked at her lovingly, a small smile on his face as his eyes roamed her features.

“What?” Y/N asked suddenly as she caught Dean studying her. He shook his head in response as he said softly, “Nothing. Just admiring you, as always” Y/N’s eyes softened at his response before leaning over to place a small gentle kiss on his lips.

F/N narrowed his eyes at his daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law, but said nothing as he glanced over at the young couple, shaking his head slightly as he took a sip of his wine. His wife shot him another stern look, firmly pointing her finger at her husband in a manner that said, ‘Behave’. F/N sighed deeply, giving an almost bored look at his wife before turning back to his food, a grumpy look on his face.

Sam cleared his throat, “Alright, Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom’s birthday” Sam began before turning to Jess. “Uh, you wanna tell them?” He asked her. “They’re your family” Jess said shyly, “What? Tell me what?” Mary asked curiously, Sam then lifted Jess’ hand to display her engagement ring.

Dean’s jaw dropped as gasps were heard around the table. “Sam!” He exclaimed, his eyes moving from Jess’ hand to his little brother, shock still written on his features. Y/N placed her hand over her mouth, excitement radiating off of her as Mary and M/N clapped their hands together, a huge smile on their face, “Oh, my God! You’re getting married!” Mary cried, bringing a hand up to her lips.

The older woman instantly got up along with M/N And Y/N. “That’s so wonderful!” Mary exclaimed as she pulled Jess into a hug. “Thank you” Jess smiled as Mary let go. “Congratulations, honey” M/N Said as she hugged the young girl. “Thank you, Mrs. L/N” Jess giggled before turning to Y/N after her mom let her go.

Y/N pulled her into a tight hug as she exclaimed, “We’re both gonna be Winchesters!” A smile spread across Jess’ features as she pulled away, “I know. I’m so excited!” Jess gushed. Y/N pulled back and held Jess’ hands in hers. “Let me see that ring,” She said expectantly.

Jess giggled as she held her hand out before Y/N gently took it, admiring the ring. “It’s so beautiful” Y/N commented, letting go of Jess’s hand and turning to Sam. She gave him a quick thumbs up as Dean got up to give Jess a tight bear hug, lifting her up slightly from the floor as Mary hugged Sam. “I just wish your dad was here” Mary said to her younger son.

“Yeah, me too” Sam said softly to his mother, hugging her tighter before pulling away. Dean then moved to shake his little brother's hand, “Congratulations, Sammy” Dean said sincerely as Sam eyed him weirdly at the term ‘Sammy’. “Thanks,” Sam said gratefully, “I’m really glad you’re happy. Even if it’s not with Jo, I know you loved Jess” Dean’s words spewed out of his mouth without thinking.

Sam raised his eyes at his brother, confusion written on his face, "What are you talking about?” He questioned, "Who’s Jo?" Dean’s mouth slightly went agape when he realized what he said but he didn’t get a chance to clear up his words, due to the girl from earlier that day appearing at the corner of the restaurant.

Dean’s eyes wide fed as he pushed past his brother, immediately rushing over to the girl. He brushed past a few people, his eyes leaving the young girl for a split second, only for her to disappear again, gone into thin air.

Everyone at the table looked at Dean with confusion as he turnt back to them gulping, F/N especially with a look of disapproval aimed in his direction as he crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.

____________________________________________

The two families were laughing and chattering as they reentered the Winchester residence. “So, Dean, what was all that back at the restaurant?” Sam asked his brother as they walked into the living room, all the ladies were talking amongst themselves as he said. “Oh, I thought I saw someone. I’m sure its nothing” Dean assured him.

“Well, I had a lovely birthday. Thank you” Mary said sincerely to everyone. “Goodnight” Everyone Said in unison as Jess And Y/N blew kisses to their future mother-in-law. Mary smiled as she started to rub her eyes. “Goodnight” She said, blowing kisses to everyone before wrapping her arms around M/N, drawing her in for a tight hug.

“Thank you for baking the cake, it was delicious” Mary said to her best friend with much gratitude. “It was my pleasure as always, Mar” M/N squeezed her back before letting go, moving back to cling to her husband as Mary walked up the stairs. A little yawn left her lips. “I think you and I should hit the hay” F/N chuckled, gently wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist, letting her lean against him.

“Agreed” M/N said, a small smile on her face before turning to her daughter. “Goodnight, baby” M/N said softly. “Goodnight, Mom.” Y/N said as she leaned in to hug her mom, a smile on her face. She then plastered on a fake smile towards her father before awkwardly hugging him.

“Have a great night everyone, love you y/n/n” F/N said to his daughter gently, a bit of despair in his eyes. “You too, daddy” Y/N responded half heartedly. Her dad sighed before shooting Dean one last glare. He then opened his door for his wife, before walking out behind her and shutting the door behind him as Dean smiled awkwardly.

“Yeah, well. I’m beat” Sam said tiredly, “Ready to turn in?” He asked Jess. “Sure” Jess nodded. “Alright, night guys” Sam smiled at everyone, “Goodnight” Y/N muttered But Dean’s face dropped. “Hey, hey. Wait a second, wait a second. Come on, it’s not even 9 o'clock yet.” Dean protested. “Let’s, uh, let’s go have a drink or something” Dean suggested.

Y/N shrugged in agreement, not minding the idea of hanging out with everyone. “Maybe another time,” Sam said, a little irritated. “Come on, man. Look at us. I mean, we both have beautiful women on our arms. We’re both engaged. Let’s go celebrate!” Dean chuckled, smacking Sam on his chest lightly.

A silence fell in the room due to the way Sam was looking at Dean, “Guys, can you excuse us. I just wanna talk to my brother” Sam said to the ladies politely. “Sure. Come on, Y/N” Jess shrugged, gesturing for both her and Y/N to leave. “Thanks,” Sam smiled but Y/N narrowed her eyes at Sam.

“Don’t start, Samuel” She whispered in a warning tone before following Jessica out of the kitchen. Sam raised his hands in defense, “Won’t do anything” He assured her as she, as well as Jess, left the room. Y/N him one last pointed look over her shoulder before shutting the door behind her.

Sam turned to his brother, an irritated look on his face. “Okay, what’s gotten into you?” He questioned. “What? What do you mean?” Dean asked, confused. “I mean, this whole…warm fuzzy ecstasy-trip thing” Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean. “I’m just happy for you, Sammy,” Dean smiled, patting his brother on his arm. Sam rolled his eyes with a tight smile.

“Yeah. Right. That’s another thing. Since when do you call me Sammy?” Sam scoffed. Dean's brows furrowed, his heart dropping. “Dean, come on. We don’t talk outside of holidays” Sam pointed out. Dean blinked twice in shock, “We don’t?” He asked surprised. “Well, we should. I mean, you’re my brother” Dean chuckled, trying to ignore the tugging pain in his chest.

“You’re my brother?” Sam huffed, shaking his head. “Yeah,” Dean smiled. “You know, that's what you said when you snagged my ATM card. Or when you crashed my car. Or when you bailed on me and Y/N’s high school graduation.” Sam pointed out his multiple mistakes as Dean’s mouth went agape again. “Yeah, that kinda does sound like me,” Dean admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Well, hey man, I’m sorry about all that-” Dean tried to apologize, stepping closer to Sam but he cut him off and stepped away. “No. Look. It’s alright. I just— you know, I’m not asking you to change. I just, uh….I don’t know. I guess we just don’t really have anything in common. You know?” Sam said, shrugging. Dean felt his heart drop in his chest again.

A lump grew in his throat as Sam moved to walk away. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Yes, we do. Yes, we do” Dean stammered, pulling Sam back. “What?” Sam raised his brows. “Hunting” Dean took a chance. “Hunting? I’ve never been hunting in my life, Dean” Sam scoffed. Dean swallowed harshly, his heart caught in his throat,

“Yeah, well, we should go sometime. Me, you and Y/N. I think you guys would be great at it” Dean said sadly, this made Sam even more confused. “Y/N? We've barely talked since high school since you two hooked up on our prom night” Sam snorted.

Dean’s heart felt like it had been stabbed as Sam’s words sank in. “What? You guys don’t talk?” He asked in disbelief. Sam shook his head, burying his hands in his pockets as he looked at his brother, still confused. “Why not?” Dean asked genuinely, feeling another pang of pain in his chest, he was trying to wrap his head around all the things that had been said tonight.

He thought that he and Y/N were the best of friends, hell, they were practically siblings, so why would they not talk?

“People just…drift” Sam shrugged, eyeing his brother weirdly. “That fucking sucks, you two were like ring on finger” Dean gaped, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, people change,” Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. A silence fell between them as Dean took in the newly found information, “Get some rest” Sam said softly to his brother before leaving the room. The shock still evident on Dean’s face.

____________________________________________

It was later that night, Dean and Y/N were back at their own house while Dean sat on the couch in the living room. His mind was racing and stuck on that dreadful conversation he had with Sam. His heart was caught in his throat, a sick feeling churning in his stomach at the fact that he and his brother were not close and neither was his brother and the love of his life.

Y/N noticed Dean was a bit in his head as she entered the living room, a sigh escaped her lips as she padded over to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and took out two beers, she then popped the bottle cap open with a silver ring on her right hand. She then headed back into the living room, offering her fiancé the beer.

Dean’s eyes snapped over to her, his expression softening. “My favorite. I guess you know me pretty well” Dean said softly as he accepted the beer, “Afraid so” Ashe teased, plopping on the couch next to him. “You alright, baby?” Y/N asked gently.

Dean gave her a thin smile before bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a sip of the beverage. The conversation with his brother had really been bugging him. How could they have not been talking? When did they stop talking? And when did Sam and Y/N stop being friends?

“Sammy and I don’t get along. And you guys stopped talking” Dean said, glancing down at the bottle in his hands as Y/N sipped from her own bottle. “Well, you don't really spend a lot of time together and me and Sam sorta just…drifted. It happens, people change. I mean, I just think you dont know each other all that well” Y/N said gently, a small frown on my face.

“And for the record, he doesn't know what he's missing” She added, offering Dean a smile, which he returned. “I could fix things with us. I can make it up to you guys….to everyone” Dean said confidently, nodding. Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion. “Okay…what's gotten into you lately?” She asked with a small chuckle.

“This isnt gonna make a lick of sense to you, princess. But I kinda feel like I've been given a second chance. And I don’t wanna waste it” Dean said wholeheartedly as he stared at Y/N lovingly. Calling her ‘princess’ felt wrong here to him but he didn’t care, he wanted it to be real so bad. “You're right, it doesn't make any sense. But I’m all in” Y/N chuckled.

Dean grinned at her words as he placed a gentle hand on Y/N's thigh "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are," he said softly, his emerald eyes filled with tenderness. Y/N smiled shyly, a light blush spreading across her cheeks, “You only say that every hour” She teased, taking another sip of her beer. “Not that I’m complaining, it gives me an ego boost” She joked.

Dean chuckled along with Y/N, the sound of her laughter music to his ears. The thought that had crossed his mind earlier in the day resurfaced, prompting him to ask her a question. “Hey, princess,” he began. Y/N looked at him expectantly, curious about what he was going to say. “I gotta ask…why does your dad hate me?” Dean asked, tilting his head a bit.

Y/N let out a sigh, a slight frown on her face as she recalled the strained relationship between her father and fiancé. "It's complicated, babe. My dad's just a bit of a control freak, especially when it comes to me" She explained with a hint of frustration.

Dean looked confused, he was used to F/N being controlling in reality but the man never seemed to hate him before. If anything, he adored Dean. So F/N hating Dean right now was foreign to him. “You know, since that night..” Y/N said lowly, Dean was even more confused now.

"Since what night?" Dean asked, a frown forming on his face as he tried to decipher why F/N’s behavior had drastically changed towards him. Y/N took a deep breath before answering, the memory still a bit raw. “Don’t you remember the night of my prom?” She asked. "Well…not exactly" Dean admitted, trying to recall the event, only to come up blank.

Y/N gave him an incredulous look, “You don't remember?” She asked in surprise, her tone almost sounding hurt. Dean’s heart sank at Y/N’s reaction, he hated the thought that he’d done something to hurt her, but he genuinely had no memory of what took place on prom night, at least in this world.

"Look, I'm sorry, princess," Dean began, moving closer to Y/N and taking her hand in his. "I seriously can't remember a thing about that night. Can you tell me what happened?" He asked gently. “We lost our virginities to each other and Dad caught us a couple weeks later hooking up at a motel, how could you not remember that?”

A mixture of realization and shock washed over Dean as Y/N's words sank in. It all made sense now why her father hated him with a fiery passion. “And then he kicked me out the same night when he said he didn’t approve of our relationship” Y/N further explained, caressing Dean’s hand with her thumb.

"Jesus... no wonder he hates me" Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. It all made perfect sense now. But the memory of that night was still a complete blank for him.

"I personally don’t think that's why he doesn’t like you. I think it's because you proved him wrong” Y/N assured Dean. Dean furrowed his brows, puzzled by Y/N's statement. "Proved him wrong? What do you mean?” he asked, genuinely curious as he rest his beer down on the table. “Jesus, charming. What’s going on with your memory?” Y/N chuckled.

Dean cracked a small sheepish grin, realizing how dense he sounded. "Right, sorry. Go on" he chuckled, giving her hand a squeeze. “After he cut me off from my trust fund and John cut you off from yours. You worked your ass off and put me through college. Dad never thought you had it in you, but I knew you did. He has not choice but to respect you, but Dad being Dad is too prideful to admit it”

Dean’s expression softened as Y/N recounted their history. After what Sam told him, it messed with his head. Realizing he was practically the family fuck-up, the black sheep…it hurt him to say the least. But now knowing that Y/N stood beside him through all he had supposedly done and he did whatever it took to support the love of his life despite getting completely cut off, Dean felt a sense of pride and accomplishment in himself.

He felt like he was worth something, because everyone including God himself knows how Dean Winchester thinks of himself. A proud smile tugged at his lips, his loving gaze never leaving Y/N’s face.

"I'll do whatever it takes” Dean said tenderly, squeezing her hand again. She giggled lightly at this, resting her own beer down besides his, “I know you will, and that's one of the many reasons why I love you” Y/N said softly as she brought her hand up to cup Dean’s cheek, he automatically leaned into her touch, nuzzling into her hand like a kitten.

“And I love you too, more than anything" he replied tenderly, placing a soft kiss on her palm. “Besides, Adrienne was always his golden child” Y/N said with a bitter tone and a scoff as she pulled away. Dean furrowed his brows, confused by the new name she had mentioned. "Who's Adrienne?" he asked quizzically, his curiosity piqued.

“My little sister.” Y/N said as if Dean was supposed to know that, rolling her eyes. His eyes widened in surprise. Y/N had a little sister??? His mind then went back to the little girl in the pictures at his mom’s house, that must've been Adrienne.

“The one who tried to sleep with you last time she was in town” Y/N added bitterly. "It's always been ‘Adrienne this, Adrienne that’ “ she imitated her father's voice. Dean's smile dropped as he processed Y/N's words.

He couldn't recall the interaction with her sister or any prior mention of her, but the idea of anyone trying to come between them made him feel rather possessive.

"She tried to what?! ” Dean exclaimed, a hint of anger in his tone. "Relax, baby” Y/N chuckled as she placed a soothing hand on his chest. "You shut her down pretty quick, if I recall. You drunkenly said I was ‘the one’ and then proceeded to scream your lungs out at her, I think I’m safe” she replied, amused by his reaction.

“It's why you put a ring on it” Y/N teased, gesturing to her engagement ring, admiring it in her hand. Dean smirked as he watched Y/N admiring the ring on her finger. "I knew it would look good on you" he said with a hint of admiration in his voice. Seeing her wear the physical symbol of their commitment filled him with a sense of contentment and belonging.

“I’ll never forget you kneeling down in that stadium while Bon Jovi was playing ‘All About Lovin’ You’ and you asking me to marry you.” Y/N reminisced, resting her head on Dean’s shoulder. A warm smile played on Dean's lips as Y/N recounted the proposal. Even without his memory of it, he could tell it must’ve been special.

The fact that he had chosen such a romantic setting because he was never a huge Bon Jovi fan but Y/N loved the band’s music. The fact that he chose something so close to her heart filled him with a sense of satisfaction. "That sounds like a pretty perfect moment" he said, a hint of longing in his voice.

"You were so nervous" Y/N chuckled. "You kept shaking your hands and your leg kept bouncing up and down," she added, recalling the proposal with a fond look. Dean shook his head with a mock frown, "Shut up" he muttered playfully. “You know….I get it” Dean said softly, tracing circles on her hip with his thumb.

Y/N hummed in response, enjoying the feeling of his touch on her skin. "Get what?" she asked curiously, lifting her head from his shoulder to look at him. “Why you’re the one,” Dean responded, connecting his eyes with hers, this gaze filled with love and admiration. Y/N felt a warm sensation in her chest as she returned his gaze, his eyes so full of love and tenderness. "Oh, really?” she asked, teasing him a bit.

Dean grinned as he nodded, attaching his lips to hers. Y/N let out a small gasp of surprise, which soon melted into a soft moan as she returned the kiss eagerly. The way he took charge sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine, her heart hammering in her chest.

Dean's hand on her hip began to wander, gently caressing her body through the thin fabric of her clothing. His other hand moved to cup her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. There was a voice at the back of his mind that was screaming at him to stop, telling him this wasn’t right as Y/N straddled him.

Dean's mind waged a war with itself, her presence in his lap both tantalizing and guilt-inducing. He wanted her, craved her, and yet he couldn't shake the nagging thoughts that told him it was wrong, Dean couldn’t bring himself to do it just yet.

He pulled back from the kiss, panting lightly as he looked up at Y/N. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly swollen and parted in a gasp. "We gotta stop,” he said quietly, his voice filled with both desire and restraint. Dean brought his lips to her neck, “Mhhmm” Y/N panted, groaning slightly as she rocked her core against his growing erection.

Dean stifled a moan as she rocked against him, his hands on her hips gripping just a bit tighter. "We gotta stop..” he repeated, though his body was clearly at odds with his words. “I know, I know, i've got work” Y/N sighed, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

Dean returned the kiss, his fingers moving to run through her hair, the silky strands slipping through his fingers. "You gotta work now?” he asked, his voice thick with desire but also confusion because it was nearly midnight. “I told you, I’ve got the night shifts on Thursday” Y/N responded as she reluctantly peeled herself away from him and headed over to the closet.

Dean’s brows furrowed as he picked up his beer from the table and followed behind her, “You work nights at the uh…” He began as he stepped into the closet to see Y/N with a hanger in her hand, nurse scrubs attached to them, “…hospital.” He finished, an impressed grin on his face. “I’m engaged to a nurse. That is so respectable….and hot” Dean muttered to himself as he eyed Y/N’s ass while taking a sip of his beer.

He wondered to himself why Y/N decided to go into nursing due to the fact she always had a love for music, but Dean shrugged it off.

______________________________________________

Authors Note: Okay soooo, Tumblr told me that my post was too long so I had to split this into two parts.

Part Two Here!

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19

@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester

@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle

@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy

@hey-its-zoe @modiddys-blog @thvxr @tommysaxes @cookiemonstermusic258

Xoxo

[chaosduckies]

Silence In The City (1)

I hate school a lot for not letting my finish anything that I wanted to write and luckily I found the time to write today! So I give you an idea I’ve had on my mind for a good while, I’ve just never written it down! I will say these characters are some of my favorite because of the dynamic I have planned for them! Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4.3k

CW: Violence, depictions of anxiousness and anxiety

1-

Everything was all wrong. The way the system works. How life works. How humans work. It was all just some twisted lie. Of course humankind had been ruthlessly attacked by these monsters at first. Huge and massive beings that rose from the sea, easily crumbling buildings and killing millions. It was terrible, taking ages to finally figure out a way to kill them. There was nothing to bring back the lives lost, everyone was broken apart, cities crumbled to dust as vegetation took over what was originally theirs. And soon, it repeated and repeated, until these monsters would finally restore their original home. Destroying countless cities along the coast, sometimes even working their way closer to the middle of the land. Though they were usually killed by then. 

I’ve never really been the type for fighting. Yet, I still find myself here. They had told us to go into our underground bunkers for safety but I couldn’t make it in time. The city was quiet except for the thundering footsteps coming from the monster. I just ran into a building, scared and alone. I had no idea where my parents were, but I had hoped that they were safe. Next thing I knew, the monster was after me. Crumbling down buildings in an attempt to take a life since there was no one else around. Or so I had thought. I was cornered and tired, the dust from all the rubble filling my lungs. I was about to be killed by the rubble falling on top of me. I had already given up, knowing that I wasn’t going to get out of this alive. When nothing had happened and there was a loud thud, I looked up, seeing an even bigger, more powerful being, standing over the monster. The monster struggled to get up while the one standing over leaned down, its eyes focusing on me. 

They only looked half like the monster that had just threatened my life, but yet, didn’t have the same malicious look in his eyes. Scales all along their body that stopped halfway up their fingers, neck, and chest. The most beautiful shade of purple eyes that I have ever seen, toned skin, tail with spikes all along their spine, even another pair of arms. And yet somehow, he acted even more human than he looked. He showed concern for a little while before scooping me up somehow, protecting me against any further danger. After all the loud growling and harsh noises were gone, only leaving the strange humanoid kaiju huffing for breath. They opened up their hands high up in the air,  eyes studying me with worry. As if they had been making sure I wasn’t injured. Of course I was still scared. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me. Or what this guy would do to me. He had looked more human anyways. 

Soon enough, I heard my parents' strained voices crying for me. Out of desperation to be reunited, I crawled over to the edge of their palm, reaching out to them with tears in my eyes. They had noticed the person who had saved me, obviously scared but they stayed, wanting me back. I looked back at the half-human half-kaiju, their eyes glaring down at my parents. He turned towards me, eyes going wide before slowly lowering his hand to the ground. I stumbled off, nearly falling face first but ran into the warm hug that was waiting for me. I glanced back at the monster who had looked away, having a troubled and dark expression before locking eyes with me. I started trembling, but otherwise put on the best nervous smile as my parents urged me to run away. Their eyes shot up before he crawled away, making sure not to crumble buildings. 

I hadn’t forgotten about that day. When people were allowed to come out, we all tried to go back to our homes, but most of them had been demolished. Including mine. We were placed in a camp until they could find a home for us to relocate to, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about that guy. Whether they had been a monster or human, they had saved me. Even protected me. And I still ran away without giving a thank you. I was terrified, sure, but that didn’t condone not thanking him. They practically saved the whole city and they wouldn’t ever get any recognition for it. Usually those huge monsters were killed by people who could handle the suits, I’ve never seen anything like what just happened ever. Not on tv at least. Why did they look so… surprised by me though? Like when I smiled at them, or when I was just scared out of my mind in the corner. I never found out the answer until today. 

The camp was full of people. We were just lucky that food was okay and that we were getting supplied everything we needed. Until a military team had arrived. They were searching for someone. Telling people to gather in an area so they could check our faces. When they came up to me, they had all started talking. This didn’t happen with any other person, which just worked up my nerves. Why were they here? To take me away? To punish me for not being able to make it to the bunker on time? I wasn’t made for war! Was it because of that human-monster hybrid? Was I not supposed to see them? What was going on? A million questions stirred in my mind, making me anxious and worried. I had feared that they would be taking me away from home, and kept hoping that it wasn’t the case. 

I stayed still, playing with my hands and looking down at the ground, waiting to be told what would happen next. I was scared. I always have been. There was no reason for me to, but the anxiety always made me feel this way. This wasn’t helping at all either. The military people came back, my parents gripping my shoulders and kept whispering that everything would be okay. I didn’t believe them this time. They walked up to me once again, “You’re being transferred under government care. Your objective is classified until arrival. Please follow us.” They had instructed, waiting for me to follow them. I jumped, looking back up at my parents with mortified faces. They were just as terrified as I was. I looked back at the guy who was just talking to me, “B-But my parents?” I scooted closer to them as they gripped my shoulder tighter. He had sighed, walking but up to me, “Only you. Sorry kid, you’re being called to duty, and if you ignore we have been ordered to take you forcefully.” 

My eyes shot open, my entire body pausing. I didn’t hear when my parents started arguing to let them come with me, but it just wasn’t allowed. My mom, with tears in her eyes, looked at me. I always hated when she cried, “It’ll be okay, alright Devon? Just please be careful.” I knew why she was saying it. They were going to take me away, and I don’t even get a say. My parents had argued for me but… I never fought for myself. Never was a fan of fighting. They had, however, allowed me to pack a few things. Or what I had left of my stuff. My parents watched me pack a few clothes, making sure I had everything. I looked back, seeing my dusty stuffed animal dog and grabbed it. I knew it was childish but I couldn’t go anywhere without him. I could just clean them off when I get to wherever I was going to. My mom made sure to grab my pills and placed them in my bag, “Don’t forget to take these.” She smiled sadly, trying not to cry. To be honest I was trying my hardest as well. I didn’t understand why I had to leave. They never gave me a reason, and I was anxious. Was it bad? The place they were taking me to? Was I in trouble? 

The thoughts never escaped my mind as I hugged my parents close, then started to follow the guy into a car. People had surrounded me, as if making sure I wouldn’t try anything. Of course I wouldn't. I already knew I wouldn’t win that battle. Not now or not ever. It was quiet on the way there. Sitting in a car for two hours, only listening to the people on the radio transmissions and getting stares from the people sitting next to me. I stayed quiet, afraid that if I said anything it would only make my situation worse. I was already away from my parents and I’ve lost my home, what more could they do to me besides kill me? I panicked at the idea as the car drove past a massive gate. There were several check-ins, and soon we were finally in. My heart wouldn’t stop beating as I stared at the huge base. I walked through several hallways, earning stares from a lot of people. Some older, some looking the same age as me. I knew what this place was. To train people to kill those monsters that terrorize cities. Was that what I was here for? I wouldn’t even last a single hour here. 

They took me up an elevator, leading me to another place where there was a lab. Holographic screens everywhere, people testing new weapons out. I flinched when someone had started barking orders. I gripped my backpack tighter, thoughts swirling in my mind. Could I just go back home with my parents? Can’t I just cry right now? It’s taken so much out of me just to stop myself. I didn’t want to show it to everyone else around me though. They would think I’m even more of a useless kid than they already do. I could already tell that. So what was I even doing here if they all thought that about me? 

The people started talking with one another before one of the scientists came up to me, the people who used to stand beside me to make sure I didn’t try to escape took a step to the side. The woman was tall and looked to be in her thirties. I jumped as her eyes pierced through me, seeming to stare deep into my soul as she studied my every move. My eyes nervously trailed down to the ground, nervously moving around my feet. I felt like a big underneath her stare. And it didn’t feel very good. 

“This is who the monster decided to save?” She sounded unimpressed as she wrote things down, circling around me. She lifted up one of my arms, shaking her head and sighing, “Too skinny, too weak, do you suffer from any illnesses?” She asked. I looked at her sadly, forcing my voice to work without cracking, “Anxiety disorder.” She raised her eyebrows, muttering something under her breath that I couldn’t hear. It made my anxiousness even worse.

But what did she mean by monster? Was it that guy that saved me? My eyes went wide at the thought. I was going to see him again? I felt terrified and scared, but at the same time happy? It was a strange mix of emotions as she had dragged me to a large metal door that seemed heavily protected. Automatic windows had opened, revealing a large room with only one inhabitant inside. My eyes widened as I played with my hands and shuffled my feet. There, only a few meters behind the glass, was the person that saved him. Trapped in a tiny metal box. Well, tiny to him, not so much for me. They looked to have been bothered in their sleep and slowly started opening their eyes, letting out a soft groan and never moving. Some part of me screamed to run, to hide and never look back, but the other part felt sympathy for him. Why was he locked up in here? Did he do something bad? It didn’t really seem like it. They looked so peaceful, as if nothing was wrong.

“You’re going to go in there. No escaping and we can’t guarantee that it won’t kill you.” She instructed, getting ready to throw me in there. He gripped my bag and continued to look out the window, my nerves only worsening. Kill me?... would he really do that? After being so gentle and protective? Was that why I was here? Just to meet him again? See how he’d react to seeing the one person he helped get out alive. “Get a peculiar reaction out of him like you did at the attack and we’ll see what we’ll do with you after…. If you’re still alive,” She grinned like she had expected it to happen, “Here’s a tablet containing the means of shocking it into submission if you feel threatened, here is also an ear microphone so we can speak to you through it.” She handed me a small tablet with a few buttons, but I eyed the button with the lightning bolt on it warily. Shock him? I could barely think about it without gagging.

I gulped, not knowing how he would react to me. Holding the tablet that I had an odd feeling he would recognize and hate me for it. I also hated the fact that she called him an “it” and a monster. If he was a monster then why’d he kill one? Why would he save me in the first place? Why make sure he wouldn’t topple over any buildings? I took a deep breath before I was shoved on the other side of the door. I yelped, landing face first onto the cold metal floor. I groaned quietly to myself, sitting up with my backpack still attached to me. I let out a sigh of relief, then made the mistake of looking up. My eyes were glued to the massive being in front of me, their entire face taking up my vision. I felt myself barely breathing, my body trembling, but I never ran away. 

I jumped when their eyes had opened, groggily searching around the room until they landed on me. I held in a breath, my eyes wide but not full of fear. This was the person that saved me. They wouldn’t kill me, right? It didn’t really sound logical at all. Though… that didn’t really explain why he was locked up in here. He didn’t really look like the type to do any true harm to someone

As soon as their eyes found me we held a silent staring contest until his own eyes grew wide as he picked up his head. Did he recognize me? He shook his head, laying back down on his arms. I looked around. Seeing that the room was cramped. Not for him at all but for the guy just laying on the ground seemed to be cramped. The ceiling looked too low for them to get on their legs, heck, it even looked too low for them to sit on their knees and sit up straight. I flinched when they slightly moved their head up a little more. I felt like a tiny bug under their gaze. I stared at one of their hands, the one I had been in just a few days prior and shuddered. Their claws were at least three times my own height. I briefly wondered just how small I am to him. How he saw me through his eyes. Just a bug? Another small insignificant creature? 

I gripped the tablet in my hands, listening to the microphone in my ear. They had kept saying to talk, to do something, but what was there to do? He was just sleeping, and I ruined it. I didn’t like the thought that they forced me to bother him. And the fact that he looked annoyed with me being in here too. I sucked in a shaky breath looking away and at the door, but I couldn’t help but turn back to the vibrant purple eyes glaring at me, no, the tablet. The collar around his neck seemed to be the shock collar basing it off of the marks around where it is on his neck, there were also some on his wrists. All four of them. I looked down at the tablet in hand, and back at him, still glaring at the object in my hand. It sent a chill down my spine as I did the exact opposite of what they kept telling me to on the microphone. I placed it down and kicked it away from me, along with the microphone. There was no reason for me to have either of them. I wasn’t going to pay attention to what they were going to say. None of this seemed right to me. 

Their eyes went wide at my action, looking between me and the tablet that must not have looked far to him, but it was for me. They seemed to be shocked as they raised their head up, and up, until entirely looming over me, holding themselves up with their crossed arms. I gulped, not realizing just how big they truly were. I backed away a little thinking, for only a brief moment, that it was a mistake to toss away the one thing that could have kept me alive. Though, if he really wanted me dead wouldn’t he have done so the other day? Instead of saving me he could’ve just let it happen. Instead he didn’t. And I still had yet to thank him! They lowered their head, as if trying to examine me more before looking away, disappointed. Though I did catch a bit of sadness hidden. I hadn’t noticed how much I was trembling. Or how much I had backed away, my back almost against the wall. I felt terrible for looking that way in front of him. What if that was why he was disappointed? Because everyone was scared of him and so am I? Of course I’m scared but at least I’m attempting to try something. I scrambled further up to see him looking completely away, almost turned to face the wall opposite of me. I kept taking steps closer despite the warnings given, and stood a few feet away from one of his hands. Big, scary, but I just grabbed the backpack on my shoulders and stood up on shaky legs. My breath was shaky, but I forced words to come out eventually, “Th-thank you. For saving m-me.” He slowly turned his head, his eyes searching to see if I was lying. I heard him scoff above me, the noise deep and irritated, “You’re a really good liar. How about you go back with your friends out there and treat me like some monster like they all do?” I covered my ears with my hands, their voice loud. Liar? Friends? Monster? Did he mean the scientists? Why did he think I was lying? Was he really a monster if he saved my life and practically everyone else’s by dealing with the real monster that day? Now there were even more questions than answers. 

I didn’t move. Even though I was terrified, trembling, and honestly thinking about just making a run for it, I still stayed. It was silent for what seemed like forever before they moved again, glaring at me, eyes piercing through my soul. “Go away.” He nearly growled, slamming a fist on the ground. I was airborne for a half a second, placing my hands out in front of me so I didn’t land on my face. Heart racing, breath shaky, tears forming in my eyes. Dead- Dead. I could’ve died. The thoughts wouldn’t leave as I stared at the fist only mere feet away. I looked back down, watching as my own tears hit the metal ground below. I could’ve been dead now. Why wasn’t I dead? Why was I alive right now? Wasn’t he going to kill me? My breathing quickened, my arms and legs becoming weak. I used a shaky hand to grab a fistful of my shirt against my chest, feeling how hard my heart was beating. How it seemed to ring through my ears with every thump. I closed my eyes, trying to get as much air into my lungs to calm myself down. My stomach throbbing. The anxiety eating at me. The constant thoughts of how I could’ve died. What I would look like. I just kept taking shaky breaths, slowly regaining my mind. I reached into my bag worriedly, grabbing a water bottle and my pills, dumping two out into my hand and downing them with water. I held my head, taking my last few deep breaths. My body was still trembling and my heart was still beating abnormally fast, but at least my mind wasn’t lost. 

Using the back of my hand, I wiped away the tears, sniffling and forcing myself to look up. Their other hands clawing at the metal, their eyes still piercing through me, holding me in place out of fear. Why was he so angry? Was it because he was trapped in here? Because they treat him like this? It didn’t take a whole lot to figure out how they take care of him. The collars, the tablet, the chains on his lower pair of arms. Who knows what else. But was he really that bad? I mean, of course I just had a near death experience, but after a second look I realized he was just trying to scare me. It would’ve worked. The people here were terrible. It didn’t matter if he was half kaiju half human, did it? It didn’t matter if he was probably taller than a skyscraper. Okay well that might invoke fear in literally everyone he meets but still. It didn’t really seem to me that he truly wanted to hurt anyone. A few days ago he struggled to avoid breaking anything that might wreck the city even more than it already was. He even held me to keep me safe. How was he being held in a prison like this when he’s saving billions of people? It just didn’t sit right with me. 

I gathered up whatever courage I had left in me, trying to forget about what had just happened, “I-I’m sorry that you’re i-in here.” My voice came out weak, quiet, almost like I was about to cry. Honestly, I was. Everything about this was telling me to run and get the heck out of here. That would be wrong. That would be proving their point that I think of them as a monster, wouldn’t it? 

Their eyes widened in shock, lowering their head even more, almost touching the floor. I flinched when they moved their fist, flattening their hand on the ground as if they were confused and interested. It was unnerving to have their full attention, but I stared right back, rubbing my arms to hide the fact that I was shaking. He lifted his head back up, contemplating. I had no idea what was happening, but for some reason their entire mood had seemed to shift. Why did they react that way when I said that I was sorry? They didn't seem mad anymore. Relief washed over me as he raised his hand up and covered up a mirror high above me. Was it actually a window? Were they watching us? I didn’t know. 

He sighed, studying me like he was earlier, trying to see if I was lying, “You’re hard to stay mad at,” His voice was a lot quieter, “Kieran. That’s my name.” He opened his mouth like he was about to say something else but shook his head, looking down at me. I sucked in a shaky breath. Kieran? “Devon.” I quietly said. He seemed to hear me before somehow. He removed his hand from the mirror, glaring at it for a few seconds like they had done some unspeakable crime. They actually did actually, keeping Kieran here in the first place. 

“You’re welcome for saving you by the way. Don’t expect me to do it again.” He told me, turning away. I couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to sound happier now. Like he was happy I was talking to him. I smiled, jumping when the door opened. I watched as several people walked it, three of them carrying a tablet and keeping a close eye on Kieran. The other people walked right towards me. I flinched, unable to fight back against the grip they had on my arms. I was forced to my feet and shoved through the door. I stole one more glance back at Kieran, meeting their sad eyes. Once the doors were closed, I let them push me around the long hallways. What did they mean they wouldn’t dave me again. Would they have to? I wouldn’t think so if I was going home after this. I did what they asked me to do, didn't I? Why did he look so sad when I left? 

Eventually they opened a door that led to a small room with only the necessities. A bed, bathroom, closet. They threw me in there, “People will come and get you in the morning. They asked that you rest for now.” They had ordered from me. What? Was I staying here for the night and going home? I sat on the bed, digging out my stuffed animal and laying down, sinking into the hard mattress. I sucked in a shaky breath and cried silently. Nothing could ever just be normal. 

——————

I’ve absolutely loved kaiju ever since I could remember and I’ve been wanting to write a story for it! To be honest I mostly wrote this for myself just to feed my delusions but also just to get out of my writer’s block and to save me from spiraling cause of school. But thank you for reading! This actually did get me out of a major writing slump (thank you school) so I will finally be able to finish answering asks and writing commissions. Thank you for being so patient!

Taglist: @da3dm, @dav8530

If you would like to be added to any of my writing please let me know!

[podiumackles]

the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 6

A/N: hey so did you guys know I find writing dialogue infuriating?? English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: swearing, weed, smoking, slight mention of manipulation, and possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

Present

The flight to America was long. After leaving the van, Butcher had led the group, including you, towards a private plane. How he had gotten that in his possession, you didn’t dare ask.

"Russia."He had told you when he was asked where the hell you were. All this time, you had thought you were in your own country—the one you were raised in, trained in.

Manipulated in. Shaped in. Lied in.

You hadn’t dared to sleep on the plane. Your eyes were too focused on the people around you, and they, in return, didn’t take their eyes off of you either. It was an endless cycle of silent distrust, like a coiled snake ready to strike at the faintest flicker of weakness.

Butcher, with that permanent sneer etched onto his face, seemed oddly at ease, lounging in one of the leather seats as though this were all routine. The others, however, shifted uneasily, side-glancing at you and occasionally muttering in voices too low to catch. They knew things about you, things you hadn’t been allowed to know about yourself. Secrets planted in you, roots twisting through your memory, leaving a tangled mess you were just beginning to understand.

When the wheels had touched down, the silence between you and the others was heavier than ever. One by one, they had risen, adjusted their coats, hid weapons or stashed them, preparing for…something. You weren’t sure what. Butcher glanced back at you as the group headed for the exit.

"Stick close," he growled, his tone hinting at the consequences if you didn’t. You rose to follow, but a thought tugged at you—the same one that had haunted you for weeks now. Why am I here? You had been trained to follow orders, to be useful. To be a fucking soldier. But now, without a team of your own, without a clear purpose, with complete strangers and a man who didn’t remember you, you felt like a weapon without a target.

As you stepped into the next van, a white one this time, the biting chill of Russia was replaced by the dry, metallic heat of the American air. And the drive was, once again, long, through silent stretches of deserted roads, a landscape that grew more barren and industrial as the minutes ticked by. A landscape way too modern for your liking.

Eventually, you pulled into a shadowy parking lot, a motel shining in its glory on the other side of it. The motel loomed in the dark like a fortress of faded neon, its sign shining so brightly, that it cast a sickly glow on the empty lot in the burning daylight. Butcher muttered something to the driver, then turned to you and the rest of the group with a thin, humourless smile.

"Home sweet home," he sneered. "Get comfortable."

He climbed out, his boots crunching on the gravel as he motioned for everyone to follow. You felt a strange disorientation, a sense that you were stumbling into a world half-hidden, a world that you weren’t quite part of yet.

Butcher led you all through a side door into a bright hallway, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and bleach. The walls were a sickly yellow, way too bright for your eyes. You heard voices somewhere down the hall, muttered and low, a constant hum that seemed to blend into the buzz of blinding lights overhead.

One of Butcher's associates—the scrawny man who you had learnt to be named Hughie—looked back at you, sizing you up, as if he was trying to decide if it would be a good idea to make conversation with you. He didn’t say anything, but his mouth opened regularly, just to be closed again immediately after.

Who names a kid Hughie, anyway?

Finally, Butcher stopped outside a door, fishing a key from his pocket. "This is where we’re holed up for the night." he grunted, throwing the door open. It was a room with multiple doors, making it almost feel like a five-bedroom apartment. You glanced towards the back of the room, where a cabinet held a single device- which almost looked like.. a TV?

The carpet looked soft, patterned with designs you couldn't quite place, and the smell was almost too good to believe. This whole damn situation was too good to believe. Nobody just gets you out of a facility with that much trouble.

Soldier Boy immediately left the main area, opening the furthest door before slamming it shut with such force that you almost flinched.

You were left with the rest of the group, the man whose accent you couldn't quite place dropping onto the couch before lighting what seemed to be a blunt. You frowned upon seeing his actions.

“Is that-“ you started, but the man cut you off almost immediately.

“Want one?”

That shit was illegal, last time you checked. How did he just light up one so casually?

“But, isn’t weed-“Once again, you were cut off before you could finish your sentence.

“Hasn't been illegal for a long time, love,” It was Butcher who had cut you off this time, a teasing smile edged onto his lips. “At least I hope it isn't. Frenchie can’t keep his hands off of the damn shit.”

Frenchie. Ah. Because he was fucking French?

A girl sat down next to him, and it was then you realised she hadn't uttered a single word all this time. But quite honestly, you didn't care. You didn't want to speak to anyone here anyway.

“Give me that.” You muttered as you reached towards the joint hanging from Frenchie’s lips, snatching it from his loose grip and inhaling the sweet drug yourself while taking place on the chair in the corner of the room.

Damn, did that feel fucking good.

“Great. Another junkie. You know how to pick them, Butcher.” The broad, dark-skinned man looked you over, a look of distrust in his eyes, with something you’d say looked like hatred.

Full-on hatred.

He left soon after the words had left his mouth, aiming for the room the furthest away from where Ben had just entered.

“Forgive MM. He’s a li’l tense.” The words left Butcher's mouth like they were rehearsed, almost like he’d had to say them many, many fucking times before.

You looked a Hughie, who had a glint of wonder shining in his eyes. And you decided you could no longer take his silent admiration.

“Just speak up, you're going to get your brain cooked if you think about it any fucking longer.”

Hughie’s face flushed, and he gave a nervous half-laugh. "Right, yeah, sorry. I was just—uh, thinking you might, you know… need anything?"

You raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Do I look like I need help?"

He shrank back slightly, rubbing his neck. "Well… no. But you do look, uh, tense."

The edge of his voice grated on you, but you found yourself holding back the sharp reply that sprang to mind. Hughie’s wide-eyed sincerity was almost… disarming. Not quite annoying, but close enough to be irritating. You took another drag from the joint, exhaling the smoke in a slow, curling stream that made him squirm under your gaze.

"Maybe I am," you replied finally, as the burn of the weed started to settle in, softening the sharp edges of the moment.

Butcher, sensing the tension as easily as a shark senses blood, chuckled as he slumped onto the couch on the other side of Frenchie, his arm sprawled across the back. "Best to relax, eh? Ain't no reason to trust us just yet, but might as well get comfy." He shot you a pointed look. "Wouldn't want you lashing out at us, soldier."

You stiffened slightly at that. Soldier. The word felt heavy, loaded with every fragment of an identity you’d been handed, and then dragged through hell with. But right now, you felt as if the word was used against you.

A form of manipulation you recognised all too well.

You glanced around the room, sizing each of them up—their guarded expressions, eyes flickering between caution and something sharper. Like you, they weren’t here by choice; they were pulled into the world of someone else’s agenda, their every move shadowed by doubt.

Butcher turned away, seeming to lose interest as he gestured toward Frenchie. "Frenchie, Kimiko, see if you can find us some real food. Nothing from the motel vending machine."

Frenchie and the girl gave a lazy salute, him mumbling something in French as he rose, giving you a quick nod as he passed, a spark of mischief glinting in his eyes. You got the feeling he could read you better than most, maybe even better than Butcher, but he wasn’t about to pry. They sauntered out of the room, leaving you and the others in a strangely awkward silence.

Hughie broke it, clearing his throat. "So, um…what’s your story, anyway?"

You shot him a cold look. "What’s it to you?"

He raised his hands in defence. "Nothing, just…you don’t exactly look like the type who follows Butcher around willingly."

"Right," MM added, stepping back into the room. His stare was unyielding as he glanced from you to Butcher, his shoulders tense with barely contained frustration. "Another question I’ve got too. Why’d we pick up this one, Butcher? First Soldier Boy, now Fury?"

Butcher’s smirk widened, almost enjoying the tension. "Easy, MM. Trust me, she’s gonna be useful. This one’s got a… particular knowledge."

You scoffed, crossing your arms. "So, what is it you expect me to do, exactly?"

Butcher leaned forward, that dangerous glint in his eye intensifying. "We asked your li’l friend from the past to help us with a problem. He, however, has proven unuseful at the first opportunity to fix it. Along with us, we’d like you to take down a supe named Homelander, together with Vought. Some big fish need taking care of, and you’ve got a rep that says you’re more than capable. Or, am I wrong?"

It was a baited question, but you didn’t flinch. "You tell me. You seem to know a lot about what I can do."

"Only what I’ve heard." Butcher’s tone was amused, but his gaze was sharp, unwavering. "But I figure you’ve been in the dark about most of it. They’ve kept you chained up in that facility for so long, all locked up with nothing to lose but your mind. Well, here’s your chance to earn back a bit of that freedom."

You tensed at the thought. Freedom was something you’d nearly forgotten the taste of, something that had felt like a distant memory until you were thrust into this strange company of misfits. Now it was dangled in front of you like a carrot on a stick, but you knew Butcher well enough to know it wouldn’t come without a cost.

You had fucking expected this anyway.

Fucking manipulation all over.

"So what, you want me to play attack dog for you lot?"

Butcher snorted, glancing around the room. "Attack dog, cannon fodder, hell, maybe even an ally. You’re here because you’re dangerous. I figure you’ll either find a use for that, or you’ll find yourself out on your ass. Your call."

The threat was as clear as the invitation. It hung in the air, thick and potent, as you studied each of their faces again. They were all different in their ways—MM with his sceptical eyes, Frenchie with his enigmatic grin, Hughie with his fidgeting nervousness, and Butcher with that smirk that told you he never played fair.

A sliver of something—maybe adrenaline, maybe the weed—flickered in you as you took in the group around you. For the first time in a long time, you felt the urge to fight, not for anyone else’s agenda, but for your own survival, your own questions. Maybe Butcher was right. You’d play his game. For now.

"Fine," you muttered, leaning back into the couch, your posture finally relaxing a bit as you held Butcher’s gaze, unblinking. "Who’s this Homelander, anyway?"

Butcher looked at Hughie before the younger boy walked over to you with a device you couldn’t quite place. He held it up, almost like a picture frame, but the unexpected light coming from the device burnt into your eyes.

“What the fuck is that?” You muttered in disbelief.

“A real son of a bitch, isn't he?” Butcher let out a low chuckle from afar.

“No, the fucking picture frame.”

“My phone?” Hughie spoke up carefully, as if afraid of letting off a bomb when he responded.

“That is no fucking phone.”

“21st century, uh, we got them like this nowadays.”

You would grow to hate his irritating stutter of responses. You already knew that.

Hughie held up his phone once more, and instead of trying to comment on it even further, you took the device from him with foreign precision, as if scared to hold something so far from your mental pictures of life.

As you looked at the image that was shown on the screen, you frowned once more upon looking at the man named Homelander. It was a strange feeling that went through you, almost familiar. You glanced at his facial features, slightly recognising the way his nose hung over his lips and the way his eyebrows framed his eyes almost the same as-

“Who’s he?” you asked before you could dwell on it further, and handed the phone back to Hughie.

“He’s the new Soldier boy.” Butcher answered.

“Great. Another fucking asshole leading a shit team of supes, then.” You muttered, taking another drag from the joint still smoking between your fingers.

Butcher’s grin widened as he watched you process the information. “You catch on quick, love. Homelander’s a bit more than an asshole, though. This one’s got the power of a god and the mind of a tantrum-throwing child. You think Soldier Boy was bad?” He chuckled darkly. “This one’s got a streak of crazy you wouldn’t believe.”

“Doubt that.”

Hughie, still looking slightly wary of you, chipped in. “He’s, uh… not just strong. Homelander’s got all of Vought backing him. They protect him, market him, and turn him into the perfect hero for the public. All the while, he’s probably the most dangerous person alive.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the familiar irritation bubble up. You’d been a weapon for someone else’s whims before, a pawn in a game you hadn’t even known how to win in the end. And now, here they were, trying to sell you on another mission with vague promises of freedom. Still, something about the threat of this “Homelander” stuck with you. Maybe it was the hollow rage Butcher seemed to carry in his words, or the way MM’s shoulders tensed just at the mention of the supe’s name.

But you couldn't shake the feeling about Homelander building in your chest, the confusion making its way to your mind.

Butcher leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low growl. “This ain’t about heroics, love. We’re not out to save the world. We’re out to make sure this bastard doesn’t burn it down just because he feels like it.”

You scoffed, taking another drag of the joint before you exhaled, watching the smoke drift toward the sickly yellow ceiling. “And you think I’m going to be your secret weapon?”

Butcher shrugged, unbothered by your doubt. “We know what you can do. And frankly, I don’t think Vought or Homelander would expect it. They don’t know you’re in the game now, and that’s a hell of an advantage.”

For the first time, you let the thought settle. A weapon Vought didn’t know they’d lost. You hadn’t had a chance to choose your side before, but if you were honest, the thought of putting someone like Homelander down had a certain appeal. A weapon they’d shaped, was now in the hands of the one group that seemed hell-bent on destroying them. There was something poetic about that.

You looked over at the people still present in the room, the strange, broken people you’d been thrown in with. Hughie, nervous but oddly steadfast. MM, controlled anger simmering beneath a calm exterior. And Butcher, the man who looked like he’d die laughing at the end of the world.

You exhaled slowly, letting the thought take root while glancing back at the ceiling.

“All right, then.” You grinned, feeling the old fire flicker to life. “When do we start?”

A/N: as always, feedback is appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @demodemo909 @deangirl96 @mostlymarvelgirl @n-o-p-e-never @daisydark @mxltifxnd0m @lamentationsofalonelypotato @junyjunyjunyper @yvonneeeee

[tommyflanaganfan-blog]

I dont know if this would be considered a one shot or a drabble or if its gonna turn into an actual story but here y'all go. Enjoy.

Cheated

"Tell me who it was."

"No. I already told you what I did and why. It doesn't matter who I was with."

"The fuck it doesn't. I want to know who the asshole is that for some reason decided it would be a good idea to put their hands on my wife. Who are you sleeping with Hayleigh?"

"I'm not your wife. And I'm not going to tell you who it was you'll kill him."

In every way that matters, you are my wife. Wether we have a stupid piece of paper or not."

That piece of paper was currently tucked inside of his kutte. He had went and got a marriage license, wanting to surprise her now that his divorce was final. This was not what Chibs had expected to come home to. Hayleigh had been his everything, his reason for living for the past 4 years. And she had cheated on him while he was in Ireland helping Jax find Able. Granted, he had slept with Fiona but it was the only way she would agree to a divorce. Told him it was a final goodbye. He knew Hayleigh wanted to get married. In a twisted way, he had done it for her. For their future together. And he knew she would never find out, she'd never believe a damn word that came out of Fiona's mouth and nobody else knew about it.

"Are you going to leave me for him now? Do you love him? I don't know what he told you, but I promise you no other man alive will ever love you like I do..."

Chibs sounded heartbroken. He wasn't acting as furious as she had anticipated and it killed her. She felt as though she had just ruined his life.

"Filip...."

I want answers Hayleigh. Now. Did you fall in love with someone else? And who is it?"

No way in hell was she going to tell him it was Kozik she had slept with. She wasn't completely stupid. She knew Chibs would kill him, brother or not. He didnt give a damn about anything else when it came to her. Yes, she loved him. But she loved her scotsman more.

"It was a random guy."

Chibs lit a joint while staring at her menacingly. He dropped his gold colored lighter on the table in front of him and leaned foreward, his tone of voice turning deadly.

"You're a lot of things love, but a whore is not one of them, which means I've met the guy. I know when you're lying. You won't be able to protect him for very long darlin'." As far as Chibs was concerned, Hayleigh was his. She was all the good he had in his life. And she had no idea just how far or to what lengths he would go to protect his family. Chibs Telford was a dangerous man who hid it well and she had so rarely saw that side of him that she had underestimated him. One way or another he was determined to find out it was. And when he did, all hell would break loose. He wasn't going to lose Hayleigh to someone else, not without a fight.

[estellan0vella]

Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Twenty Two: The Minho Way Still Sucks SS: 8 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 1.7K & 0.5K Content Warnings: Drug use Previous Next Masterlist

In the living room, the group’s materials are strewn across the coffee table: audio files queued up on laptops, hastily labelled folders spilling documents, and their recording setup perched precariously on a stack of books. Hayun is sprawled out on the couch in sweatpants and a hoodie, traces her fingers along the sterile strips covering the cut on her cheek. Her eyes are a little too bright, pupils sharp, but none of the guys say a word about it. She’s been through hell lately, and they’re picking their battles.

Jeongin leans forward, squinting at the screen in front of him. “With you guys narrating everything that went down, I mean... we could easily get three hour-long episodes out of this,” he says, glancing at the others for confirmation.

Jisung nods, thumbing through a file with intensity. “Yeah, we’d only have to cut the repetitive stuff and keep the big reveals. People are gonna eat this shit up.”

Felix chuckles, leaning back and resting his head on the back of the couch. “Just hope they don’t think we’re making this shit up. Feels like a fucking crime thriller.”

Hayun, half-listening, smirks and lets out a soft laugh, her voice a little too dreamy. “It’s real,” she says, her words drawn out. “All of it. Every messy, fucked-up part.”

The guys exchange glances, but before any of them can respond, the door opens. Minho steps in, his gaze zeroing in on Hayun. “Hey, princess,” he says, tone light but his eyes serious. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Hayun blinks up at him, her fingers pausing over her cheek. She pushes herself off the couch, following him up the stairs to her room. She closes the door softly behind them, settling onto her bed as Minho stands by the door.

“So, what’s up?” she asks, her voice still carrying that spaced-out, lazy lilt.

Minho pauses, crossing his arms, his gaze steady. “Did you frame Mingi?”

The question hits like a lead weight, and Hayun’s expression flickers, a smile breaking through before she suppresses it. “Okay, listen,” she begins, her hands raised in a sort of surrender. “I can’t tell you anything. Because if I get caught and the cops find out you knew-”

“If you get caught, you’re looking at prison time, Hayun,” Minho interrupts, his voice harsher than intended. “Do you understand that?”

She sighs, rubbing her forehead. “I know. But I have not confirmed or denied anything so-”

“No,” Minho cuts in. “I already know you did it. So out with it.”

Hayun’s lips press into a thin line, and after a beat, she relents. “Alright, fine. It was Ryujin, okay? But it was an accident. Minsun and Yuna got into an argument that night. He shoved her, and she hit her head and went home. Then Ryujin and Yuna got into it because Yuna- she sold her out, basically, handed her over to Mingi.” She pauses, swallowing. “So Ryujin snapped, shoved Yuna, and Yuna fell. Ryujin went upstairs, but when she came back later, Yuna was dead. She choked on her own vomit.”

Minho listens, his face unreadable, absorbing the twisted sequence of events. “So where is Yuna now?”

Hayun bites her lip. “Only Yeji and now the police know. Yeji hid the body, and she planted something of Yuna’s at Mingi’s place, along with some other stuff. The cops are going to find that and Yuna’s body, and bam! Mingi goes down for her murder along with every other disgusting thing he’s done. Gone for life. No more Mingi.”

Minho’s eyes narrow as he catches her pinpoint pupils. “Are you high?”

Hayun rolls her eyes, her expression shifting to mild annoyance. “It’s been a long few days, alright? Just let me have this.”

“You know what I said about this, Hayun.” Minho’s voice hardens, and his gaze sharpens.

Her shoulders slump, a whine slipping out as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Minho, come on, no.”

“I told you,” he says, stepping forward with a sigh, though there’s a glimmer of reluctant amusement in his eyes. “Every time I find you high, it’s a cold shower.”

“Why do you have to be such a meanie?” She says, groaning dramatically as she flops back on the bed.

“Because I give a shit about you,” he replies, his voice softening despite himself. “And if cold showers are what it takes, then that’s what it’s gonna be.”

Hayun lifts her head, squinting up at him with a pout. “You’re relentless.”

“Only when it comes to you, princess.” 

Minho grips Hayun’s wrist firmly, pulling her up from the bed and guiding her down the hall toward the bathroom without another word. The determination in his stride leaves no room for argument, though Hayun tries anyway, muttering, “Minho, please, not this.”

He twists the cold water on, the icy rush immediately filling the room. “Told you, princess,” he says, his voice unwavering. With a swift motion, he pulls off his T-shirt, tossing it onto the counter, giving her one expectant look. “Sweater off.”

Reluctantly, Hayun slips off her hoodie, and Minho catches himself looking, just a little too long, at her in that lacy blue bralette. He forces himself to tear his gaze away, clearing his throat before tugging her firmly under the spray of freezing water. The shock hits her immediately, and she thrashes against him, water spilling over them both.

“Tell me when it starts to cut through the high,” he murmurs, holding her close, bracing her against his chest.

Hayun lets out a strangled groan as the freezing water slams into her, soaking them both to the bone. “You’re a stubborn ass,” she mutters, her body shivering against him.

Minho’s grip doesn’t budge. “You’re not getting out of this, so suck it up.”

With a reluctant sigh, she presses herself against him, the warmth of his chest in stark contrast to the biting cold. “The Minho way still sucks, by the way.”

He chuckles, his fingers running through her soaked hair. “I know, but it works. And it’s going to keep happening until you stop messing with pills, Hayun.”

Her lips curve into a small pout, and she lifts her chin defiantly. “Why can’t you just go back to quoting books and being cute? You were so much more fun that way.”

Minho smirks, flicking her bottom lip gently with his thumb. “I do both, princess. I quote literature and know all your favourite things when you’re not high. When you are, I make sure you stay grounded. Icy water’s part of the package.”

A reluctant smile tugs at her mouth, though the chill has her teeth chattering. “I’m freezing,” she mutters.

“Good. Once you’re back to normal, I’ll get back to quoting things.” His fingers continue to comb through her wet hair, soothing in a way that contradicts the shivering cold of the water. “And I’ll take you on a real date sometime, too. Maybe to the Korean National Police Museum. You’d be all over that.”

A flicker of surprise lights up her eyes, and she tilts her head with a grin. “How about the Disney100 exhibition at the K Museum of Contemporary Art instead? More your style than police exhibits, you know?”

Minho laughs, the sound low and warm. “Anywhere you want, princess. But only if you’re sober for it.”

She leans into him, letting her forehead rest against his shoulder, a small sigh escaping her as the water finally starts to shake her from the high’s hold. The icy stream cuts into her, and with Minho steady by her side, she feels the fog lift, her thoughts sharpening. He wraps his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close as she steadies herself.

“You coming back to earth yet?” he murmurs, his voice low, steady.

She lets her head rest against him, a hint of warmth finally returning. “Sort of,” she whispers, her voice soft but clear.

Minho shuts off the icy water, grabbing a towel before leading Hayun back to her room. The moment they step inside, he hands her a fresh towel, turning his back to give her privacy. As he rubs his own hair dry, he calls over his shoulder, “Hurry up, princess. That bed looks a little too tempting right now.”

Hayun strips off her soaked clothes, tossing her wet bralette and sweatpants onto the floor before pulling on a pair of white sweatpants and a cropped light green camisole that sits just above her hips. She flops onto the bed with a sigh, stretching out as if she hasn’t a care in the world.

Without looking, Minho throws a towel her way, and it lands squarely on her face. “You need to dry your hair. No skipping steps.”

She peeks out from under the towel, pushing it off with a playful scowl. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

He grins, not fazed in the least, and pulls her up with a gentle tug. “I know. But the cure for that is coffee. A honeycomb hazelnut frappuccino, with an extra shot, has your name on it.”

She arches an eyebrow. “And your plain iced americano is, I assume, waiting to bore me to death?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he smirks, his tone playful. “And get layered up, it’s snowing out. I’ll go steal some of Jeongin’s warm stuff; he knows better than to complain.”

Hayun huffs dramatically, reaching for a puffy black coat from her closet. “But layering up doesn’t look cute,” she argues, pulling a face at the coat.

Minho just raises an eyebrow at her. “Yeah? Neither does frostbite, princess.”

Sighing, she quickly towel-dries her hair and pulls it up into a casual half-up, half-down style, slipping into her coat just as Felix bounces into the room.

“Coffee run? Count me in!” Felix chirps, eyes gleaming with his usual enthusiasm. “Also, can we grab stuff for a barbecue?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Minho replies, already heading out to raid Jeongin’s closet.

Felix spots a purple beanie on Hayun’s desk chair, plopping it onto his head. He then snags a grey fleece, wrapping himself up. “Let’s go, let’s go!” he calls after Minho.

In the hallway, Minho returns, wearing one of Jeongin’s hoodies layered under a thick jacket. He gestures for everyone to follow, a faint smile lingering as he watches Hayun tug her coat’s zipper up, her face half-hidden by the fluffy collar.

“Feeling warm enough now?” Minho teases, patting her shoulder.

“Warm and still cute,” she replies as she adjusts her coat’s collar.

The three head out, bracing themselves against the biting cold as snow begins to drift down. Felix skips ahead, clearly excited for coffee and barbecue supplies, while Minho lingers a bit behind, sneaking glances at Hayun as if to make sure she’s truly alright.

Minho flips the meat on the grill, sending up a satisfying sizzle, while everyone huddles closer to the warmth. Felix, Jisung, and Hayun are cozied up on one side, wine glasses in hand, while the others, bundled in heavy jackets, clutch their beers. Snowflakes drift gently from the gray sky, settling in their hair and on their shoulders, but no one minds; there’s a warmth in the air that seems to come more from their camaraderie than the grill.

Jisung, chuckling at his phone, suddenly freezes, his eyes going wide. “Oh my god, you guys, look at this,” he says, waving his phone in front of everyone. “It’s from the news. Listen to this: ‘Shin Yuna’s body was found in a septic tank...’” His voice drops an octave for effect, “‘...along with another body that police haven’t identified yet but believe to be Hwang Yeji. They estimate the second body is only a day deceased.’”

The group goes quiet, each of their faces a mix of shock and disbelief.

Minho and Hayun exchange a sharp, knowing look, though it’s quick. Felix, ever the observant one, doesn’t miss a thing. “Alright, what the hell was that?” he asks, narrowing his eyes. “What was that look?”

“What look?” Minho asks, feigning innocence, but he can’t hide the tension tightening his jaw.

“Don’t bullshit me, Minho,” Felix presses. “You two shared a look like you already knew something about this.”

Hayun sighs, shifting her wine glass between her hands as she stares at the snow-dusted ground. “Only Yuna was supposed to be in that tank,” she says quietly. “That’s where she’s been for the past five years.”

Changbin’s brows furrow, trying to make sense of it. “What do you mean, that’s where she’s been? Are you saying someone hid her there?”

“Yes,” Hayun admits, her voice low. “Yeji dumped Yuna’s body in that septic tank five years ago. It was supposed to stay hidden.”

Everyone stares at her, jaws slack. Minho breaks the tension, glancing around the group. “Look, anyone who doesn’t want to be an accessory after the fact should probably head out now.” But no one moves, eyes locked on Hayun, waiting for more answers.

“Yeji... covered up for Ryujin five years ago,” Hayun explains slowly. “After that fight Ryujin and Yuna had, Yuna... ended up dead. Yeji took her body and hid it in that tank. But last week, we framed Mingi for Yuna’s murder. Yeji, Ryujin, and I, we all had a hand in making that happen.”

Hyunjin, looking at her with wide eyes, shakes his head. “But now Yeji’s dead too? And dumped in that same tank?”

“Apparently,” Hayun replies, shrugging, but her eyes betray her unease. She takes a shaky breath before looking around at them. “Only Yeji knew where Yuna’s body was hidden. I swear I had no idea until last week. Hell, I only found out about the septic tank just now.”

“And I only got the full story from Hayun earlier today,” Minho adds, his tone somber.

Jisung’s voice trembles as he asks, “But what if... someone else knows? What if whoever killed Yeji knows what you guys did? What if you’re next?” His gaze turns to Hayun, concern etched on his face.

Hayun shakes her head firmly. “It’s impossible. The only people who knew were Yeji, Ryujin, and me.” She pauses, her voice barely a whisper. “After I talked to Ryujin about everything, I was abducted by your dad. No one else knew.”

Felix sighs, raking a hand through his hair as he murmurs, “One investigation ends, and another begins. Seems like we’re stuck in a goddamn crime novel, huh?”

Taglist: @hityoulikebahng @drewsandsebastianswife @fackeraccount @lily-loves-kpop @stilldontknowhoiam

@ziggy1221 @justaspoonofjam @tr-mha-fan @candycurshidkwhatthehell

@heeseungspookie @smigcrazy @skzstannie @nightmarenyxx

[clovestreet]

use me- chad meeks martin

an: chad is so CRIMINALLY underrated... and there is like almost nothing for him on here so i wanted to take things into my own hands🤗 i hope you guys enjoy and as always let me know if you want to see anything else for characters i have already written for :)

summary: you wanted to try something new with your boyfriend you and he made sure you were glad you asked..

warnings: SMUT (16+⚠️) thigh riding, soft/playful chad😊

It was eating away at you. 

Your palms were clammy as your nails dug crescent- shaped marks into them, your legs bouncing up and down in your chair, your teeth digging into your bottom lip sharp enough to draw blood. 

You wanted to do this so bad but you had no idea how to ask. The thought of asking him made your stomach twist in knots. 

It all started when Sam told you about it. It had never really crossed your mind until she mentioned it and told you it was a “euphoric experience” and that you just “had to try it with Chad”. 

You and Chad were no stranger to each other’s bodies, much less sex. You loved being intimate with Chad and you guys had experimented with a bunch of different things. 

But riding his thigh? That was something you had definitely not tried yet. 

But now you couldn’t stop thinking about it and you wanted to try it so bad. 

You just didn’t know if Chad would be down for it and you were terrified to ask. 

Watching your handsome boyfriend cook you dinner shirtless dancing around the kitchen in your new apartment didn’t make you any less nervous to ask either. He was just so beautiful and his beauty still intimidated you in the best way possible. 

“Dinner’s ready babe!” he said shuffling over to you, two plates in hand. 

He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he placed your plate in front of you and then sitting beside you. 

“Thank you baby.” you said as you stared at your plate. 

You knew the second you looked at him he would know something was up. 

He smiled at you and watched your expression carefully as you looked at your plate. 

“Let me know if you like this new recipe, Mindy told me I needed to add garlic so I mixed that with the- “ 

He paused and looked directly into your eyes. 

Shit.

“Is everything okay baby?” he asked in a concerned tone as his hand reached over to rub your shoulder.

You swallowed and tried your best to keep your voice from wavering with nerves.

“Mhm, everything’s fine.”

“Doesn’t sound fine to me. What’s bothering you babe?” he said scooting his chair closer to yours.

You put your hands over your face and sighed. There was no getting out of this now. 

“I just- god I can’t do this.” you groaned into your hands. 

Chad pulled your hands from your face and held them in his own. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but genuine love and concern. You were being dramatic, why couldn’t you just spit it out?

“You know I’m not gonna let you off the hook until you tell me.” 

You swallowed again, trying to prepare yourself for how to word this.

“Um, it’s really nothing babe, I’m fine, I guess I just wanted to ask you if-”

You paused and looked into his eyes again. 

“If we could try something new.” you finally said. 

It took him a second to understand what you were saying, but then he was shifting in his seat, looking at you a little differently than before. There was a glimmer of want and lust in his eyes that gave you butterflies.

His thumb caressed over the back of your hand as he looked at you.

“Of course baby, I’m always down for whatever.” he said smiling at you. 

You felt your nervousness fade away as you took a deep breath. 

“I basically just heard about it from Sam and wanted to see if we could give it a try.” you said shyly. 

“What is it baby?”

You sucked in another deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“I want to ride your thigh.” 

You said it impossibly fast but somehow Chad still understood you because you watched him shift again in his seat, trying to hide the obviously growing bulge beneath his grey joggers. 

“I am so down, you have no idea.” he said with the biggest shiteating grin on his face. 

You threw your head back in laughter in response. 

He was beaming at you as he took your hand and led you up and out of your seat to grab you and carry you bridal style with only one destination in mind. 

He turned his head to kiss you and smiled into the kiss as he laid you down gently on your bed. 

He fell down on top of you and his biceps caged you in as he started to kiss you more passionately, more desperately. 

“You are so insanely sexy when you’re shy.” he murmmured into your mouth.

You smiled into the kiss and grabbed his strong arms as your wrapped your leg around his waist flipping him onto his back. 

“Oh yeah? How’s this for shy?” you teased as you leaned down into another breathless kiss. 

“Fuck, I think I like that even more.” he groaned into your mouth. 

His lower hand stroked the skin on your lower back as you straddled his thigh on either side. 

Chad positioned himself against the headboard as his hands slid up your body to firmly grip your hips. 

Your hands found purchase on his shoulders as you slowly started to grind yourself back and forth on his thigh. 

“Just like that baby, use me.” Chad groaned into your shoulder as he flexed his leg.

You gasped at his words, your mouth falling agape with pleasure.

The friction was intense and you were completely not expecting it to feel this good. You found a rhythm and experimented by switching between moving in a circle and back and forth on his leg. 

You threw your head back in pleasure as Chad gripped your ass and used his hand to grind you harder onto his thigh. 

You dragged your nails down his bare chest and Chad threw his head back against the headboard with an almost guttural groan. 

He was in a trance as he watched you trying so hard to get yourself off. He did his best to try and memorize the way your face contorted when he flexed his muscle a certain way and how it felt to have you like this. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

You looked down to see where your body met Chad’s thigh to see a darker grey spot forming on his joggers. 

“Chad, please.” you begged as you grabbed his shoulders to move yourself faster.

“I got you baby, just keep looking at me.” he rasped.

His hands slid up your lower back as he started lightly bounce his leg up and down.

Everything you were feeling was multiplied and you knew that you couldn’t last much longer like this, not with him looking at you the way he was.

“Mmm Chad, don’t stop please.” you choked out.

“Come on baby, I know you’re close.” he groaned, watching you throw your head back again.

He started to bounce his leg a little faster and it caught you off guard completely.

“I’m so close Chad, you feel so good.” you said as you tilted your head down to connect your lips to his.

Chad knew every single sign your body had to offer like the back of his hand and he knew exactly how to make you come hard enough to see stars, which was exactly what he was about to do.

His hand on your back slipped down across your thigh until his finger was pressing on your clit. The added friction sent you over the edge and you were coming all over his fingers and thigh.

You moaned into the kiss and he took everything you gave him. He fucked you all the way through your high, not stopping until you collapsed onto his chest.

His arms caged around you holding you close as you propped yourself on his chest to stare at him. 

How could you not?

“I wanna watch you do that every single day.” he said stroking your hair.

 “Chad!” you scolded as you playfully hit his chest.

He laughed and smiled before pulling you in for another kiss.

“Baby, I think our dinners’ cold.” you said pulling away. 

“Oh shit you’re right! Let’s go eat.”

You started to ease yourself off of him before he pinned you on your back.

“..After I fuck you at least two more times.” he breathes, merely a few inches from your face.

You grinned as your fingers intertwined with the curls on the back of his neck.

Who were you to turn him down?

[starsenha]

DUET - really late (chapter 20)

synopsis: the Decelis Univeristy's dance team was pretty famous in the dance community, and you loved to be apart of it, even if it meant juggling with your studies. But what would happen if you got paired with the only guy in the whole school you couldn't stand: Park Jay. wc: 0,8k tw: none i think?

You walked slowly down the path, your heart heavy with the anticipation of what was to come. Ahead, you saw Sunghoon standing by the swings, his hands buried in his pockets as he gazed down, lost in thought.

As you approached, he looked up, his expression a mix of nervousness and regret. The air between you was thick with tension, making your stomach twist with anxiety. You didn’t know what to expect from this conversation, but you knew it had been a long time coming.

“Hey,” you greeted softly as you reached him, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” he replied in a hushed tone. He studied you for a moment, searching for the right words, before sighing. “Thanks for meeting me, I know it’s late.”

“It’s okay,” you responded, crossing your arms as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet. “You said you wanted to talk, so… here I am.”

Sunghoon nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah… I did. I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened the other night. About what I said, and how I said it. I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. I wasn’t planning on confessing my feelings by… blowing up at you. That’s not how I wanted to tell you.”

Surprised by the vulnerability in his eyes, you asked gently, “Then how did you want to tell me?”

He let out a small, humorless laugh. “Honestly? I had this whole thing planned out. I was going to take you to that little café you like, the one with the really good vanilla lattes. I was going to tell you how much you mean to me, how you’ve been my best friend for so long, and how, somewhere along the way, I realized I wanted more. I was going to be all romantic and smooth, you know?” He shook his head, a sad smile playing on his lips. “But jealousy got the best of me. Seeing you with Jay… it just messed with my head.”

A pang of guilt washed over you. “Hoon… I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t even realize how you felt—”

“Stop,” Sunghoon interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “You don’t have to apologize, yn. This isn’t your fault. I should have handled things better. I should have talked to you sooner instead of letting it all build up until I exploded.”

You sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and sadness. “I still feel bad, though. You’ve been such a good friend to me, and I hate that I hurt you.”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “It’s not your fault. And you don’t have to feel bad for not noticing how I felt. I was the one who kept it hidden. I guess I was just scared of what would happen if I told you.”

Looking up at him, your eyes searched his. “And now that you have?”

Sunghoon hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground before he met your eyes again. “Now… I just want you to know that you don’t have to feel pressured to reciprocate my feelings. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything just because I confessed. I just… I needed you to know how I feel.”

Your heart ached at the sincerity in his voice. Sunghoon had always been there for you, always the one to make you laugh, to support you no matter what. The thought of losing that, of losing him, terrified you. But at the same time, you knew you needed time to sort through your own feelings.

“I… I need time, Hoon,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m still trying to figure out everything that’s going on in my head. I don’t want to hurt you, but I also don’t want to rush into something when I’m not sure about my own feelings.”

He nodded, his expression understanding but tinged with sadness. “I get it. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here, no matter what. I just want you to be happy, whether that’s with me or… someone else.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away as you gave him a small, sad smile. “Thank you, Hoon. I really appreciate that. And… I’m really sorry for everything.”

He shook his head, offering you a reassuring smile. “Don’t be sorry. We’ll figure this out, one way or another. We’ve been through a lot together, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Relief washed over you, and the tension seemed to lessen, replaced by a mutual understanding. You still had a lot to work through, but for the first time in days, you felt like you were on the right path.

“Do you want to walk for a bit?” Sunghoon asked after a moment, his tone lighter, as if trying to ease the tension further.

“Yeah,” you agreed, feeling a bit stronger. “I’d like that.”

previous / m.list / next

TAGLIST: @sincerely-sunny @realrintaro @onlyhyunjin @mari-oclock @jooniesbears-blog @isa942572 @minhosimthings @sumzysworld @kaykay11sworld @lakoya @hoonismine

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hi Nausicaa 👋

I was wondering if you do AUs? If yes, can I pitch for one but if you don’t no worries))

You know how James likes this traditional biker motorcycles like Harley Davidson? Would you consider writing an AU where he’s a chief (president/head? I’m not sure of terminology) of Road Saints or Hell’s Angles (they are motorcycles clubs, but according to some crime shows I’ve watched, it’s more like a gang thing)? And he saves reader from a guy who was hitting on her at the bar by pretending to be her boyfriend? The relationship hits off, it’s very sweet and all the motorcycles drives, she doesn’t really know that he’s not as clean as he seems to be. Until James dropped her off for work one time and her colleague who’s family member is in police tells her all about him? So the reader is scared a bit and she’s afraid James is gonna hurt her, but they talk it out? Maybe some smut in the end?

I have to say it, I really enjoyed writing this one shot. I hope you like it❤

Warnings: mature content, gang/criminal themes, emotional conflict

________________________________________________

-Criminal Love-

I didn’t see him at first. My focus was on the guy who wouldn’t leave me alone at the bar. I had tried to brush him off politely, but he wasn’t taking the hint. His hand was too close, his voice slurred as he leaned in.

“Come on, just one drink,” he insisted, the smell of alcohol thick on his breath.

“No,” I repeated more firmly this time, but my stomach twisted in knots.

Suddenly, an arm draped over my shoulders, pulling me back against a broad chest. The guy’s face fell instantly, his eyes flicking up to the man behind me.

“She’s with me,” the deep voice growled, making it clear this wasn’t up for debate.

I exhaled a shaky breath as the tension in my body eased. The man’s arm slid off my shoulders, but he stayed close, his gaze locking with mine for a brief moment.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice still low but now softer.

“Yeah,” I breathed, grateful but still caught off guard. “Thank you.”

He smiled—a small but genuine smile that made my heart skip a beat. “I’m James.”

From that night on, James became a regular part of my life. We spent hours riding on the back of his motorcycle, my arms wrapped around him as the wind whipped past us. It was thrilling, the way he made me feel safe yet alive. There was something about him—the way he looked at me, the way his presence alone seemed to shield me from the world—that had me hooked.

I didn’t know much about his life outside of our time together—he never talked much about his job or his friends, and I didn’t push him for details. All I knew was that with him, I felt protected. At least, I did.

Until today.

When I arrived at work after James dropped me off, Cassie, my colleague, gave me a strange look.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with that guy, haven’t you?” she asked, her voice cautious.

“Yeah... why?” I replied, confused by her tone.

“My brother’s a cop,” she started, glancing around as if someone might overhear. “He told me about him. That guy—James? He’s not just some biker. He’s involved with a motorcycle club, the Road Saints.”

The name didn’t mean anything to me at first. “And?”

“They’re not just a club, you know. They’re involved in all kinds of illegal stuff. And James... he’s their president.”

I felt my stomach lurch. “Wait… what?”

Her eyes were filled with concern. “I’m just saying, you should be careful. Those guys… they’re dangerous.”

The words echoed in my head the rest of the day. James was the president of the Road Saints? My mind raced with the possibilities—if what Cassie said was true, then James wasn’t just a biker. He was part of something dark, something dangerous.

And I had no idea.

By the time James came to pick me up after work, a knot had formed in my stomach. I climbed onto his bike, but this time, my usual excitement was tinged with unease. I held onto him as the motorcycle sped through the city, my body feeling tense against him.

When we got back to my place, I couldn’t shake the feeling swirling inside me. The tension between us was thick, and I pulled away as soon as we stepped inside, needing space.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said, his voice calm but probing. “What’s going on?”

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding as I faced him. “Cassie… my colleague…” I started, hesitating. “She told me something today.”

James watched me closely, his expression shifting with a flicker of sadness and concern, as if he could sense where this conversation was headed. “What did she say?”

“She said you’re the president of the Road Saints. That… that it’s not just a motorcycle club. That you’re involved in illegal stuff.” My voice wavered, my hands shaking slightly. “She said… that you could be dangerous.”

James’s face fell, a troubled look crossing his features as he stepped back, clearly affected by my words. “I didn’t want to scare you,” he finally said, his voice low and heavy. “I thought you wouldn’t want to know about that side of my life.”

As I watched him, uncertainty swirled within me. When he took a step closer, I flinched instinctively, a reflexive reaction to my racing thoughts. His eyes widened, and I could see the hurt flash across his face.

“I—” he started, but I could see the pain of misunderstanding etched into his expression. “I won’t hurt you. Please believe me.”

His hands hesitated in the air, fingers trembling as they hovered close to my arms. “I would never hurt you,” he said earnestly. “You have to know that.”

The way he looked at me, his eyes filled with sincerity, made my heart ache. But the uncertainty was still there, lingering in the back of my mind.

“Why would you be involved with a group like that?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Because I had no choice. They’re family to me, but you—” he paused, his voice cracking. “You’re different. You mean everything to me.”

I swallowed hard, torn between wanting to believe him and the weight of uncertainty. “How can I trust you?”

“Because I’m telling you the truth,” he urged, stepping back slightly to give me space. “I would never allow anyone to hurt you—not even myself.”

His words hung in the air, and I could feel the tension slowly dissipating. The warmth of his presence was comforting, even as doubt lingered in the back of my mind.

As I took a step closer, a fragile sense of trust began to bloom. I could see the worry etched on his face, the desperation in his eyes to prove that he was more than just a dangerous man.

“James,” I gasped, feeling the weight of everything we had discussed. “I want to trust you…”

“Then let me show you,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

His kisses grew more fervent, his hands moving to my waist, pulling me closer as if he was trying to wrap me in his strength. I could feel the power he held, and it thrilled me in a way I had never experienced before.

As he lifted me off my feet, pressing me against the wall, the world outside faded away. The heat radiated between us, and I felt the connection between us deepen with every kiss.

“Please,” he whispered against my lips, his breath warm and filled with longing. “Let me take care of you.”

I felt a flutter in my chest as I surrendered to the heat of the moment. The way he kissed me ignited a fire inside, and I melted against him, consumed by the passion that flared between us.

“James,” I breathed, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over me.

“I won’t let anything hurt you,” he promised, his hands tracing along my sides, creating a trail of electricity.

He pulled me towards the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation. The bed felt inviting, a sanctuary where we could escape the reality of the world outside. As he laid me down gently, his eyes searched mine, gauging my reaction.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft yet heavy with desire.

I nodded, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nervousness. He leaned in, capturing my lips again, and I lost myself in the kiss. It was deeper, more passionate this time, and I could feel the urgency in his movements as he pressed against me.

His hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve, and I gasped at the sensations coursing through me. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and I melted under his touch.

As he trailed kisses down my neck, I arched into him, my body responding eagerly. “James…” I whispered, my voice a mix of breathless excitement and longing.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on my lips before capturing them again. The kiss deepened, a beautiful mix of hunger and tenderness.

I could feel him pressing against me, the weight of his body a comforting presence. Every touch ignited sparks of pleasure, and I felt myself surrendering completely. His hands slid under my shirt, and I gasped as his fingers brushed against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathed, his voice low and filled with a need that mirrored my own.

“I want you, James,” I replied, my voice trembling with anticipation.

With a swift movement, he removed my shirt, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of me. I felt vulnerable yet empowered under his gaze. His hands traced over my body, igniting fire wherever they touched.

As our bodies moved together, time seemed to blur. Every kiss, every caress, felt like a promise—a promise of safety, of trust, of connection. We were lost in each other, our breaths mingling as the world outside faded away completely.

James’s hands explored every inch of me, his fingers teasing and caressing, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling the heat radiating between us.

He positioned himself above me, his breath hot against my ear. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his voice low and husky, filled with a mix of desire and reverence.

I nodded, my heart racing as I gazed into his eyes. “I trust you, James.”

He captured my lips in a passionate kiss that ignited every nerve in my body. As he began to move against me, the rhythm was intoxicating, drawing us deeper into each other. Every touch felt electric, our bodies communicating in a language of desire. I could feel him responding to me, his breath hitching as I urged him closer.

When he reached out to touch me, I felt a shiver of anticipation rather than fear. His fingers traced my skin with a gentleness that made me melt. “I won’t hurt you,” he assured me, his expression a mix of sadness and determination.

“I know,” I whispered, feeling reassured as I let my body relax under his touch.

His hands roamed my body with urgency, exploring every curve. I gasped as he teased sensitive spots, sending waves of pleasure through me. The world outside faded away, leaving only us, lost in each other.

“James,” I breathed, “I want you.”

“I want you too, more than you know,” he whispered, guiding us further into the depths of passion. As we moved together, our bodies entwined, I felt alive, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations.

“Don’t stop,” I pleaded, feeling the heat of desire building within me.

“Never,” he promised, his lips finding mine again as we lost ourselves in the moment.

With every thrust, I could feel the fire within me growing. The connection between us was electric, and I felt myself teetering on the edge of bliss.

“Let go, baby,” he urged, and I surrendered, waves of ecstasy washing over me as I cried out his name.

As we lay entwined, breathless and spent, he gently caressed my face, grounding me. “Thank you for trusting me,” he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” I replied, gazing into his eyes. “I really do trust you now. You’ve shown me nothing but kindness.”

His expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. Just know that I would never hurt you.”

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on my forehead, grounding me in his warmth. “You mean everything to me. Whatever it takes, I’ll be right here with you.”

As he embraced me, pulling me close to his chest, I felt a wave of security wash over me. The world outside faded, and all that mattered was this moment with him. No matter who he was, I knew I could trust him completely.

[chaossturns]

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 | 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝚰𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝚰𝐎𝐋𝐎

synopsis: where Chris breaks up with you because he couldn't be committed to the relationship but realized he was wrong and that he needs you

"Dare you to forget that you used treat me just like anyone" -tyla

ex!chris x poc!reader

warnings: smut , angst (?) , fingering , edging (?) , use of pet names (ma, mama, mamas) , p in v , unprotected sex (wrap up please) , oral (fem!receiving) , boob play, swearing, and no use of y/n

a/n: bare with me please 😭 , i haven't written shit like this in forever so it may be a bit rough. let me warm up

word count: 1.4k

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧───────────‧─────₊˚⊹

It’s been a couple of weeks since Chris decided to cut things off with you. He had decided he wasn’t that committed to your relationship and that it meant nothing to him. 

Days prior to him breaking up with you, he had been treating you worse than he ever has before. Treating you as if you were somebody he barely knew, and not engaging into any conversations with you. 

The first couple of days were the worst. Matt and Nick were constantly checking up on you constantly, apologizing for Chris’ behavior. You told them that you were fine and what happened between you in Chris didn’t matter anyways. 

You were sitting on your couch in your apartment, a blanket over your legs covering your shorts whilst the top half covered by a dark green hoodie. Browsing through netflix to find something to watch while you ate. As you finally got settled on something to watch, someone knocked on your door with eagerness. 

You got up and began to walk towards the door, checking the peep hole before reaching for the locks and the knob. You look out and see Chris standing outside scratching the back of his neck, waiting for you to open the door. 

“C'mon ma open the door. I need to talk to you.” Chris says, desperateness laced with the tone of his voice.

You blow a breath, hesitant on opening the door for Chris. You finally cave, twisting the lock on the door and pulling the door open to have a gust of the warm wind to hit you. 

“What do you want Chris?” You ask, attitude present in your question. 

“First off lose the fucking attitude, and second I came to apologize for the way I acted towards you.” Chris says, keeping eye contact with you the entire time. 

“Well I don’t accept your apology. Chris you treated me like fucking shit because you couldn’t commit to what we had going on.” You say, an angry expression dancing on your face as you watched Chris’ head drop down. 

“I know, and I am so fucking sorry. I miss you, I miss us.” He reveals. You look him dead in the eyes and roll your eyes at him, stepping to the side, allowing him to enter your apartment. 

He walks in, looking around at the familiar scene, smelling the sweet vanilla scent he's missed ever since you left. He walks to your couch and sits down, causing you to do the same but you sit at the other end of it. 

You guys both sit in silence for a good chunk of time before you decide to speak up and break the ice. 

“If you don’t have anything else to say you can leave Chris. You’re so fucking wrong for what you did.” You say, looking at your acrylics waiting for Chris to answer.

“I know mamas.” He says, causing you to clench your thighs together due to the pet name he says to you. He takes notice of this and a sly smirk glides on his face. 

“Let me make it up to you please, I promise you won’t regret it.” Chris says, looking at while licking his lips at the same time. 

You hated the fact he made you into this mess, making you want him to bend you over and fuck you into oblivion. 

You decided to give into Chris, getting up from your spot and sitting yourself down in Chris’ lap. You can feel his hardness aching in his sweats, begging for some sort of touch. 

“I fucking hate you.” You say to him, your lips inches away from his. Chris smirks and whispers an “I know” before connecting your lips together. Your lips mold together as if your lips were made for his.

He grabs your ass, causing you to gasp and his tongue evading into your mouth. His hands now move onto your hips, clashing your clothed pussy against his covered dick. You moan out and Chris groans due to the immense sensation you're both feeling from the friction. 

Chris breaks the kiss, taking off your hoodie and displaying your breasts into his face. He begins to kiss and bite your nipples, resulting in you throwing your head back with your mouth gaped open. 

“Feel good mama?” Chris asks. You can give him a slight nod since you can’t give him a verbal answer. With his mouth still attached to your right nipple, he trails his fingers down into your shorts and begins to toy with your clothed clit. 

“Fuck Chris.” You moan out, leading him to detaching his mouth from your nipple and taking your shorts off in one go. He plunges his fingers into your dripping cunt, pushing them in and out at a rapid pace. 

“Shit ma, you're so tight.” You moan out at what Chris had said, your climax approaching you at a rapid speed. Heavy and labored breaths leave your mouth as you drop your head on Chris’ shoulder. 

“Fuck, im cumming Chris!” You say aloud, but this causes Chris to retract his fingers from pussy and place them directly into his mouth. 

“What the fuck Chris.” You say pissed, causing Chris to laugh slightly and tell you, “You should’ve not had an attitude earlier.”  You roll your eyes as Chris wraps his arms around your waist and carries you into your room. 

He drops you down on the bed, your breasts jumping up and down. You watch Chris as he undresses himself, starting with his hoodie first then his sweats. His hard dick visible from his boxers. 

Chris leans down and begins kissing on your neck, leaving dark marks along it. Your mouth agape, small moans and whimpers leaving your mouth. 

Chris now glides his lips down your stomach, planting a kiss onto your cunt. 

“Chris, I need you.” You whine out, causing Chris to drag a long lick against your pussy. He groans against you, making you moan aloud and tangle your fingers in his hair. You move your hips across his face needing more. 

His index and middle finger protruding into your soaked cunt, loud squelching sounds heard as Chris curls his fingers inside you. 

“Mmm, fuck Chris!” you say, a loud moan erupting from your throat. You grip Chris’ hair harder, earning a guttural moan from him. This action eggs on your orgasm, needing to release. 

“Chris can I cum please?” you beg, desperately needing to cum since Chris didn’t let you the first time. He taps your thigh twice, indicating that you’re able to cum. 

“Mmph, shit!” you moan out, Chris continuing his torture on your pussy whilst slurping up all of your juices. Loud breaths and whines coming from your mouth as you come down from your high. 

“Turn around and arch your shit.” Chris says demandingly. You comply and turn around, hearing Chris’ boxers fall to the ground. He teases you by gliding his dick against your folds. 

“Chris just put it in already.” you sigh out, becoming impatient with all of his teasing. After hearing what you said, Chris immediately slams into you without a warning. You moan, having a loss of words after his intrusion. 

“Ain’t got shit to say now ma?” Chris teases, as he continues his rough strokes. He groans out, gripping your hips harder as you coat his dick with your juices. 

“Look at you, all dumb on my dick.” He says, as you start to clench against his dick. You moan loudly as Chris starts to abuse your g-spot repeatedly. 

“Mmm, close Chris.” You say, making Chris wrap his hand around your throat from behind and begin digging deeper into your cunt. 

“Oh shit Chris, I'm cumming!” You scream out, feeling Chris’ strokes become sloppier. You feel him release inside of you, painting your walls. 

“Shit mama.” He says, slowly pulling out of you. You wince due to the sensitivity and falling forward onto the bed. You come back to your senses and realize what you just did. 

“Chris, you need to leave.” You tell him, making him stand there dumbfounded by what you just said. 

“Ma you can’t be serious.” Chris says, slightly laughing. 

“I'm dead serious Christopher.” You say, as a deadpan expression stayed on your face.

You go to open the door as Chris slowly gets up to put his sweats on and hoodie. 

“I’ll text you later ma.” He said with a smirk as he reached the door. 

“And I won’t answer.” You snap back at him, closing the door in his face. You press your back against the closed door and slide your hand down your face.