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anyarose011 · 4 days ago

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Born Too Late III: "It Ain't Me, Babe"

Pairing: DBF!Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Reader

Summary: You're not out of the woods even after your roommate's crazy ex-boyfriend beat you to a pulp. Over a series of setbacks pushing you to the brink of several panic attacks (or is it just one really long one?), you still manage to find refuge in a few, safe people. But, in the words of Doechii "And just when it couldn't get worse", the worst possible person finds out about you and Robby...

Part 3 of 3 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past Physical Assault, Blood, Inevitable Medical Inacuracies, Allusion/Mention of Sexual Assault, ANGST, Trent and Kimi, Reader has valid crashout(s), Healing of Daddy Issues?, Rant about a Real Criminology Concept, and a Realistic but Open-Ending.

I do have to say that this was one of my favorite stories to write on here. Not even for the purpose of Robby x Reader, I just loved the dynamics of all the characters and plot overall. I truly hope that the ending doesn't seem like a cop out; my intention was to write it as real as possible, especially since this all took place in one day. I'm tempted to write a prequel to this, showing all of the "missing scenes" alluded to throughout the story with Robby. We'll see how I feel lol. Thank you guys for ALL your interest, and hope you enjoy the ending! Sorry not sorry about the length, I yap 😭

Word Count: 9.2k

There were people you knew who had resting bitch faces. Dennis Whitaker was the first person you met to have a resting scared face.

That, and it was also because he asked you if you were okay, and you didn’t say anything.

He called your name. “Are you okay?”

Your mouth trembled as you tried to find the words. What left your lips must have been from the depths of your subconscious.

“Where-where’s my dad?”

You were outside of your body, but you couldn’t even see yourself. Hell, you didn’t feel like yourself.

Whitaker furrowed his brow. “Your…your dad?”

All you could do was nod.

“I’m not sure.” He responded gently. “Can I take your hand?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. You wanted to cry, but you didn’t know why you couldn’t. Whitaker took your hand, leading you alongside him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a bit; I know things have been crazy.” He smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“Have you eaten anything besides chocolate today?”

You shook your head. “Have you?”

“No.” He laughed. “We can go get something from one of the vending machines in the break room.”

“I want to go home.”

God, could you sound even more like a sniveling child?

Whitaker stopped just a few feet away from the elevator and so did you. He got a better look at you; either that, or he was finally saying everything he first noticed when he ran into you.

“What happened to your nose?” He asked gently. “It’s kinda swollen.”

“I don’t know.”

Why did you say that so swiftly?

He frowned. “Were you crying just now? I think some of your mascara got onto your cheeks.”

Instinctively, you wiped your face with your free hand as if you would find any residue. You shook your head.

“It’s nothing.”

Whitaker took a deep breath, lowering his voice and saying your name. “I’m going to be honest, I think you should get checked out by someone here. It doesn’t have to be me, but I think something bad happened to you. You don’t have to tell me-.”

“-I’m fine.”

“But please, let me help you.”

It felt wrong, how he wanted to. No, it was his job to do that; there’s no way someone could see right through you when you were actually not doing well. You had relationships (friendships and romantic) where you had to earn the privilege of people caring for you.

You’d gotten used to it. Mainly with Kimi but also others who you thought were safe.

It felt like your skin was burning, and it was only then you realized you were still holding his hand. So, you dropped it.

“Thank you,” you felt like a puppet on strings as your mouth moved. “but really I’m fine.”

“Did you drive here?”

He wasn’t giving up.

“Yes.” You sighed. “I know what you’re doing, I can-.”

“-One of the guys on the night shift got here early and discharged me.” He interrupted, yet somehow, you weren’t annoyed. “We can go get your stuff and then get dinner. Anywhere you want, my treat. I mean, as long as it’s not like over a hundred bucks or something.”

You wondered if he was smiling out of nerves or trying to cheer you up. In your experience, it was usually both.

“I’ll drive.” You stated.

He thinned his lips. “You had a rough day; I can do it.”

You snorted. “So, if you’re driving my car, how are you getting home?”

“I’ll call an Uber.”

Usually, you would’ve made a joke about his male privilege and being so carefree about taking an Uber home late at night, but circumstances didn’t allow you to. Still, as if it hadn’t been one of the worst days of your life, a watery smile pulled onto your lips.

The ‘ding!’ of the elevator beside you made your head turn, and the doors slid open. Standing there, was Trent, seething. Blood coursed down from his nose to his chin, and where you once saw nothing behind his eyes, they were now filled with the rage you knew all too well.

You met his gaze the same time your soul left your body.

“You fucking bitch!” He charged you.

It happened all so fast.

Trent was just a hair away from you one moment, the next, Whitaker flung you behind him. You landed onto the ground, and when you looked up, you saw Whitaker go face first onto the floor beside you.

Crying in horror, you grabbed onto a nearby cart and pulled yourself onto your feet. Everything playing in your ears was simply noise; people were yelling and screaming, but you couldn’t make out a word they were saying.

It was only your eyes you could trust.

If they did not deceive you, you watched Jack Abbott tackle Trent to the ground; the first one to do so…When did he get there?

And, it was then that your vision began to blur as tears clouded your sight, that part of your hearing returned. As you stood there, with Jack holding Trent down, for verbatim, you heard.

“Did you get off my little girl when she told you to?!”

Someone wrapped their arm around your shoulders, turning you away, but something in your body told you that they were safe. You could barely see anything as you were led through the ER; only hazy objects and blaring lights. Someone was talking in your ear too, but again, it was just all noise upon the noise coming from the catastrophe behind you.

You hadn’t even realized you were clinging to the person like a buoy in an ocean you were stranded in until you heard a door slide shut behind you. Like a miracle, your vision started clearing up, and air entered through your nose and into your lungs.

Then, the taste of blood on your tongue.

You touched your nose, pulling your hands away to see them coated in red.

Melissa King gently called your name, placing her hand on your back.

“You should sit down.” She moved away from you to dim the lights, and your eyes caught sight of one Heather Collins in the room as well, prepping one of the beds.

Somehow, just at the sight of a medical bed, did you finally realize how much everything hurt.

Yet, you couldn’t rest.

The little girl, practically a baby, the one who got stung by a bee, you had to make sure she was okay, you had to-!

Collins rested her hands on your shoulders, stopping you. “It��s okay. Robby checked on her a minute ago, she’s fine. You need to sit down.”

Did you say all of that aloud? Could she read your mind? Oh God, if she could, then does she know-?!

“-Holy fucking shit!” Santos opened the door, and you never knew her face could morph into such fear. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Is Dennis okay?!”

He threw himself in front of you and was fucking pummeled to the floor!

Santos looked out the door before looking back. “I’m gonna be honest, his nose kinda looks messed up. But hey, you’re twinning.”

“Santos!” Collins scolded.

“Right, you’re right.” She nodded. “I’m so sorry I-.”

“-I heard you had a spinal tap to do.” Collins interrupted.

“I’ll go.” Santos gave one last look to you. “I’ll talk to you later, I swear.”

And then she left. It wasn’t the strangest, nor the quickest, interaction you had with someone…but fucking hell, this day.

Mel said your name again, but this time, strained. You looked at her and saw her gaze downwards at your pants. Following it, you saw blood seeping through the fabric around your groin.

Your jaw trembled as you looked back up at both her and Collins. As professionals, you knew they had seen worse than this. As women, you could see that familiar look of horror on their faces.

“He didn’t do anything.” Were your first words. “Not like that.”

“Baby…” Collins uttered.

“No, no,” You resisted. “I’m on my period! I-I-Mel, you gave me a pad this morning. I got him off me and-and I got it out and put it in his face so he’d stay off. I-I-I mean he bragged about pulling a girl’s tampon out of his mouth one time, so I didn’t think he’d overreact.”

What were you even saying?!

“I’ve had sex before! I-I would know, I would know if that bastard did something to me and-and-!” You hiccupped, feeling more blood seep through your nose and into your mouth.

“It’s okay,” Collins soothed. “we believe you. Can you sit down so I can assess you?”

What other choice did you have?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you tried to catch the blood still gushing out of your nose before it could get on more of your clothes. Too late for that.

Mel went to one of the drawers nearby as Collins held up her finger. “Follow it.”

You did; passed with flying colors.

“EOM is intact.” She told herself, then took a mini flashlight from her pocket, shining it in your eyes. “Pupils are reactive. Do you have a headache?”

“Kinda.”

“Does it hurt to breathe through your nose?”

“Weird, but doesn’t hurt.”

Mel came beside you with a handful of tissues and a nasal tampon. “I’m going to clean up the area around your nose, and this should pack the bleeding.”

You hummed. “You got one for me to put between my legs?”

She shook her head.

“Extra pants?”

Collins slipped off her sweatshirt, draping it over your legs. “I got some in my locker, plus a pad.”

You nodded, getting choked up. “Thank you.”

“Mel,” she looked at her. “could you finish up?”

She affirmed. “Of course.”

“I’ll grab some icepacks.”

Collins left, leaving you alone with Mel. It felt strange; both your body and the entire day. Still, Mel wasn’t one to dwell on it, unlike you.

She brought the tissues up to your nose. “Your gonna feel some pressure.”

You grunted as she placed the Kleenex onto your nostrils. The white tissues turned red, and she carefully slid the tampon into your left nostril. Apparently, that was the only one bleeding.

Mel placed her thumbs on your face. “Tell me when you feel pressure.”

They traveled up around the area of your nose, and it was only when she touched the septum did you hiss in pain. Mel walked back over to the drawer, then taking out a few wet wipes.

“Well,” she hunched over, cleaning the blood off of you as gently as she could. “it’s not misshapen, so that’s good. It’s not broken either. Swollen and bruised, but all you really need are icepacks and I could get you some pain medication.”

“Could you take pictures?” You asked out of the blue.

“I’m sorry?”

“Police usually take pictures of injuries for evidence, but could you?” You explained. “I just want to get it out of the way.”

Mel nodded. “Yeah, of course. Is it just your nose?”

You sighed. “No. It might be my head, I don’t know. He kicked me in the ribs…I think…yes, he did.”

“If you feel comfortable, would you want me to take pictures of those too?”

“Yes.” You said with certainty.

She backed up enough to give you space, taking out her phone. You decided to start with your ribs. They were tender, but thankfully, it wasn’t impossible to pull your shirt up. After Mel took a picture, you pulled it back down and she took a few photos of your nose and head.

“This is the worst photoshoot I’ve ever been in.” You joked.

“I’ve never been in one.” She stated.

“Let’s change that when the weather’s better.”

“Alright.” She put her phone away. “Now-.”

The door slid open, and in came Kimi like a bat out of hell.

“-What the hell did he do to you?!” She approached you.

Mel placed her hand on her shoulder. “You can’t be in here-.”

“-Fuck you, she’s my roommate.” She kneeled in front of you. “Baby, what happened?”

You hadn’t realized there was a long list of people you didn’t want to see at that moment, and she was near the top. You looked away, scowling and slipping the tampon out of your nose. Luckily, the blood finally stopped.

She didn’t take that as you being angry with her. She huffed. “Motherfucker. What’d you say to him?”

You finally looked at her. “What?”

“I’m just asking.” She explained. “He’s never done this before when I was a bitch, so you probably pissed him off-.”

You laughed. “-You’re an idiot.”

Kimi’s eyes shifted. At first, she was confused, then it quickly seeped into appalment. “What do you mean?”

You fell into a fit of giggles like Alice did down the rabbit hole. “I have told you hundreds, thousands, of times that whenever Trent hit something near you or me, then he actually wanted to hit one of us!”

Standing up, you weren’t laughing now. “And my God, I have never met someone who hates themselves so much, they bring a baby into the world for validation. But no, no, no, they’re not expecting to get it from the kid, they’re so fucking stupid they still think they’ll get it from the dad!”

The door slid open gently, and Collins came back in, carrying the pants, a single pad, and an ice pack. She said nothing.

Kimi didn’t lash out, and that’s what terrified you. Tears flew down her cheeks as you yelled at her, but she took a deep breath once you were finished.

“So, what should I do? Fuck my fifty-year-old boss?” She huffed. “How’s that working out for you?”

She marched out of the room, past Collins.

A part of you wished that Trent had killed you in the bathroom; you couldn’t feel shame if you were dead.

If not that, then you wished he somehow blinded you; just so that you wouldn’t have to see the way Heather Collins’s face dropped at the revelation.

Those two seconds in that room were brutal after Kimi left. Just where your gaze could only fall to the floor, and you didn’t even want to imagine the looks Mel and Collins were giving each other; or you.

“She has whiplash.” Collins said. “She can’t leave alone unless she signs an AMA.”

Just like that, you felt Mel hover her hand over your shoulder before retracting it and rushing out of the room. You stood there like a child who had just been yelled at, and didn’t dare to even breathe.

“How about we put these on?”

And Heather spoke to you like you were still one, but not with any hint of disdain in her voice. Hesitantly, you looked up and saw her holding the pants out to you. With shaking hands, you took them in yours.

She picked up her sweatshirt from the floor. “I’ll cover you. You can turn around if that makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded, and she draped the sweatshirt in front of you, giving you privacy from any peering eyes outside. Slowly, after getting your pants down to your knees, you slipped your underwear down; your ribs aching with every move. You managed to secure the pad, and as you tried to pull your pants all the way down, the sharpness in your side forced a hiss out of you.

“You need help?” She asked.

You shook your head immediately but seethed and clutched your ribs when you tried again. Collins set her sweatshirt aside, placing a comforting hand on your back and dropping down.

“I got it.”

She helped you out of your bloodied pants, and you placed your hands on her shoulders as you put one leg into each hole of the pants she got for you. Your eyes watered at the familiar feeling; how old were you the last time you did this? Seven? It’s so strange to remember such a small thing as your mother dressing you, not knowing when it would be the last time.

“There we go.” Collins smiled, standing back up, then guiding you to sit back down on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” You finally managed to say, even if it was barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, handing you an ice pack. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

She hates you. You told yourself.

You saw Kiara come to the door, and your heart leapt into your chest. She waited as Collins cracked it open, and they talked in hushed tones. In the end, Kiara came in and she sat at your side.

You had to cross your arms to keep yourself from throwing them around her. You doubt she would’ve cared, but it was strange; at that moment, you wanted to be held, but still would’ve felt like you were suffocating.

“Hey.” She greeted gently.

“Where is he?” You asked.

“Well,” she began, not knowing exactly who you were asking for. “Whittaker’s being checked on, and he won’t stop asking if you’re alright. Trent was secured in a room, but the police just arrived so he’s in custody now. They want to talk to you, is that okay?”

You nodded. “If it’s a fucking man, I’m leaving.”

“There’s a woman.” She comforted. “She already volunteered to speak with you. At any point, if you want to stop-.”

“-I won’t.”

She said your name, warning but not to scare you. “I know you want justice; we all do. Still, you have to do what is best for you in the moment. You have every right to react the way you need to. Do you want Dr. Collins to be in here?”

You shook your head.

“Alright.” Kiara looked at her. “Could you send in officer Moreno, please?”

Collins nodded. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

Before you could say that her shift was over, she left. There you sat with Kiara, staring at an empty corner of the room. Without thinking, you laid your head on her shoulder. She said nothing; just ran her hand up and down your back as the officer came in.

It was different being the one to tell the police what happened to you. You were either in the cop’s position asking questions, or Kiara’s, just being a support for the other person.

Officer Moreno was nice enough. She never pushed you, but she wasn’t exactly comforting either. You understood she just wanted everything to write a report for, but you knew this wouldn’t be the last person you’d have to talk to.

The more you spoke about what happened to you in the last fifteen minutes (fuck…was that all it’d been?), the heavier your body became. You didn’t even feel a hint of fear or sadness within you; just the aching in your nose, and the exhaustion that swept over you.

Officer Moreno asked to take photos of your injuries, and you told her you’d taken them already, saying you’d give them to her.

“You’re efficient.” She complimented.

I have to be; you wouldn’t do anything if I wasn’t. You said in your head, but aloud you uttered. “Thanks.”

She left you with a phone number to send pictures to the police, a case number if you “remember anything else”, and a “Goodnight.”

That left you and Kiara together.

“Where’s Kimi?” You asked.

“She was calling her mom to pick her up last time I checked.” She answered. “Do you need a ride home?”

You shook your head. “I’ll get my dad to.”

“Dr. Abbott’s on call right now.”

Of course she knows.

“I can do it.” She offered.

“Kiara.” You said. “I’ll call a friend from my building.”

“I just want you to get home safe.”

“I will.” You smiled. “You’ve been here longer today. Go home.”

She sighed, standing. “You’re not coming in tomorrow. I’ll get Zidan to escort you out if you do.”

You forgot who that was for a moment, until you remembered him as the security guard. You were going to have to make him cookies or something; he probably had to deal with not just Trent, but a million other people.

Kiara said goodbye, giving you one last look before leaving. Just as you stood up to escape, Collins came back inside, carrying your purse and lunchbox.

“I’m sorry, I got the code from Jack.” She set them down. “How’re you feeling?”

You don’t know why, you had been asked that damn question countless times that day, but Collins asking it was the final nail in the coffin. Hours of repressed tears finally escaped your eyes, and you covered your mouth.

She immediately placed her hands on your arms, looking over you. “Are you in pain?”

“I’m sorry.” You hiccupped, rubbing your eyes.

“There’s nothing to-.”

“-Yes, there is!” You sobbed, and everything came out like a confession in a Catholic church. “I-I didn’t know you and Robby were together. I-I didn’t even know that he’d be a supervisor, or-or that I’d work with him, or even-or even that…”

Collins wrapped her arms around you, and you hid your head in her shoulder. She shushed. “I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No,” she pulled away, still holding onto you. “I’m not.”

You searched her face. You couldn’t find a hint of anger, but you knew she had to have felt something towards you. “Weren’t-weren’t you together…?”

“Not for a long time.” She shook her head.

You rubbed your face with your sleeve; you had cried all of your mascara off. Sighing, you picked up your belongings.

“I’ll wash your pants. Thanks.”

She laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Just wait a little bit.”

“You’re done with your shift, I’m done with mine.” You shrugged her off. “I’ll call a friend, I won’t drive.”

Except you would.

Collins said your name, and you only wished her goodnight, walking out the door. It was a miracle no one was instantly surrounding you, asking for answers to questions you had no energy to even listen to. You were making your way to the door to Chairs when-.

Your name left your stepfather’s mouth. You glanced to the side and saw him making a beeline towards you from across the room. Without any uncertainty, you turned around and walked back where you came from.

Like a demon in the night, you felt panic fester within you once again, just when you thought it was all over. You weren’t running, but your legs began to burn alongside your chest as you tried to find the nearest exit.

You pushed your way outside and found yourself in the ambulance bay. Still, despite there being only two paramedics and one security guard, there were still too many people. Your vision blurred once again, and you limped against the wall until you found the small opening to the alleyway.

Collapsing against the brick wall, you dropped everything you were holding and hid your eyes in your hands.

And you cried; really, truly cried.

Then crying turned into sobbing, then to weeping, then into you having to cover your mouth as you started wailing. You didn’t know when the walls of the alleyway started closing in on you, and neither did you know if it was your own shame or the walls crushing you to the point where it hurt to breathe.

You couldn’t even think. Every time you panicked, the weight of the world and all of your actions came into your head like a horrible flicker. Not now; no, there was nothing but white, hot pain.

“Put your head between your legs.”

They were just words. You couldn’t recognize the voice, but you listened. Knees bent, you bowed your head.

“Breathe.” The voice said, and it sounded deeper. “In and out. In and out.”

You did. The countless times you had to coach someone through an anxiety attack coming back to you.

It must’ve been another minute before you could feel your heart slow down and hear the ordinary sounds of the night; a pleasant mix of the bugs on the ground beside you, and a near-distant ringing of an ambulance.

“Rough day?”

It was Robby. That was the voice who had guided you through the second panic attack that day…or was it your third? Or had you just been in one that lasted a full half-hour?

You laughed upon looking at him, shaking your head and drying your eyes.

He offered a pitiful smile. “That bad?”

“Yeah.” You heaved. “Does this mean I’m doing a good job at coping if I’m laughing?”

Robby shrugged. “If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.”

“I’ve done too much of that today.”

He nodded, not saying anything. You rested your head against the brick wall. Maybe it was better that you saw him after all the shit that hit you in such a short amount of time. In the end, tears and all, the whole day was just ridiculous.

“Do you want me to tell you what happened?” You asked.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He looked at you.

Sighing, you realized that, yes, you actually did.

“I wasn’t sexually assaulted.” You said it so easily. “It just…hurt, what he did. Nothing’s broken but I still feel like shit and it’s…it’s funny. I apologized. I was so unprofessional towards him, and I apologized, but he still did this. I did everything right and he still did this!”

Robby shook his head. “Don’t go down that road. Nothing you did to him could ever justify what he did to you.”

“No,” you didn’t even listen, tone laced with sarcasm. “I did so many things wrong now that I think about it. ‘Christie’s Ideal Victim, 1986’; there are five things that make the perfect victim. ‘She, always a she, is physically weaker than the attacker’; gold mine if she’s a kid or a grandma, so I did that wrong. ‘The victim is doing a respectable task when the attack happens’: I was having a mental breakdown, so debatable. ‘Next, the attack happens in a place she could not be blamed for being in’; I was in a sketchy as fuck bathroom in the basement, so yeah, my fault. ‘The offender is physically stronger’; holy shit, he was, so I did that one right! ‘Finally, the victim has no prior relationship to the offender; he is a stranger.’ Well shit, I failed the perfect victim test.”

He sighed, saying your name.

“I’m not done.” You said, voice shaking. “Now I added my own qualifications to this obviously bullshit concept we were taught for ‘educational purposes despite how out of date it is’. What did I add, you’re asking? Only pretty girls, only nice girls, only virgin girls, and only white girls. Those are the only girls that apparently are the perfect victims to a lot of people. It’s been almost forty years, and there are still people who believe it.”

Robby’s gaze never left you, even when you looked away from him, talking to the actual brick wall in front of you. Yet…he listened. He was quiet after you finished, but only to let you breathe.

“I didn’t know any of that.” He finally said. “It’s horrible.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry, that teaching just always stuck with me and…”

“It came out tonight?” He asked.

“Yeah…” You brought your knees to your chest. “I’m gonna have to see Trent and Kimi again. Court, I think.”

“If you ever need-.”

“-I need a cigarette,” you tried to diffuse the pain, despite bringing it up. “that’s what I need.”

He scoffed. “Should’ve asked me five years ago. Anything else I could get for you?”

“Is there a Jewish prayer that kills someone?”

“You smoke and you’re religious?” He feigned shock, but you could still see inklings of it on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many secrets.”

“Answer the question, Robinavitch.”

“No.” He huffed. “Not that I know of, at least.”

“I’m not really religious either.” You sighed. “After the day I had though…”

He nodded. “I’ve been there.”

“You’ve been a girl lost in her twenties before?”

“I’m a son-of-a-bitch in my fifties, and I’m still lost.”

As if you shared a mind, you both laughed. It wasn’t loud or even jubilant; more so just an acknowledgement of how weird the whole situation was. There was a sense of familiarity with how you were talking to him.

How you and Michael joked around but also were capable of serious conversations, whether it was about personal struggles or just current events.

Now though? As you sat in an alleyway just outside of the place you discovered who Robby really was? There was more of an honesty; a shameless one.

“Makes sense,” you wheezed. “we fucked each other.”

Although he was getting over his laughter, he still asked. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Your smile began to fall, but somehow, you couldn’t lose it fully. Call it insanity, or call it nerves, you still spoke with it.

“I mean…I actually liked you.” You admitted, and instead of feeling horrible, it felt better to finally say it. “I slept with you because you were nice, and you made me feel safe, not just because I had an itch or something. I knew we wouldn’t date or anything, but…I just really liked you.”

Robby had a horrible poker face when it came to women; he told you that when you first caught him smiling in a way you’d never seen a man smile at you before. Now, he was looking at you, face fallen into…not exactly pity, but something alike to it.

He took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to hurt you; it was never my intention.”

“…You kissed my forehead the next morning, then left. I saw the note saying I could stay but…I felt stupid just waiting for you, so I went home. You didn’t leave me your number or anything else, then I didn’t see you again.” You sounded more confused than wounded. “I know I was stupid. You probably just wanted to feel younger and-.”

“-It mattered to me.” He stopped you. “Yes, there’s no way we can keep this up; I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Don’t think that I regretted it, or that it didn’t mean anything to me. I liked you too.”

You genuinely didn’t expect him to be so vocal about it. It would’ve been easier for him to just nod and agree that it was nothing more than a primal feeling; no emotions on his side. Still, there he was, openly admitting it all.

You breathed in through your nose, despite how strange it felt. “I wish I was born the same year you were.”

Robby kept his eyes on your form, and when you glanced over at him, you wondered if his response would be ‘Me too.’

But it wasn’t.

“I wouldn’t have been good for you.” He confessed.

“Why not?”

He said your name, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You swallowed, knowing that he meant it. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s…” He sighed heavily. “You’re going to find the right person one day, and they’ll be your age-.”

A laugh left your mouth. Except, it wasn’t a spiteful or doubtful one, even Robby could tell. It was the most genuine and honest one you felt that day.

“I fucking knew it!” You bragged.

He snorted. “What?”

“You had to have had that line in the holster or something.”

“Maybe I’ve just seen too many movies.” He laughed with you.

The both of you just sat there in the peculiar change of emotions. Of course it wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to you that day. To add to it, you said.

“I’m wearing your ex-girlfriend’s pants. She and Dr. King know, by the way.” He snapped his gaze at you, and you thought he was going to go into cardiac arrest. You shrugged. “Collins she…it’s probably just because I got the shit beaten out of me, but she acted like she didn’t care.”

Robby looked back at the brick wall, taking it all in. After a while he said. “That’s why she looked like she was gonna kill me a second ago.”

You snorted. “When?”

“Before you ran out here.” He clarified. “Jack saw you, I told him I’d talk to you because he was technically on duty, Heather comes out guns blazing saying something like ‘Don’t say a word to her,’. She tried to go after you, but I managed to get her to go home.”

You pursed your lips, surprised at Collins’ protectiveness. “Wanna divide and conquer? I talk to King, you talk to Collins?”

He nodded. “Sounds good. You uh…you gonna be alright? Going home?”

Looking down at your shoes, you took a bit to think. You didn’t really want to go back to your apartment, and maybe Kimi would stay home with her mom…but you were immature, you had just been beaten to a pulp, and you didn’t want to talk to her on the small chance she was at your apartment.

“Yeah, I mean…” It was second nature to avoid the conflict, but you caught yourself. “I know Trent won’t be there, hopefully never again, but I don’t know how I feel around Kimi. I was a piece of shit for what I said, but I don’t know how safe I’ve felt around her for a while. I told her how I felt about her boyfriend, she saw how he treated both of us, and I feel horrible she’s with him, but I won’t be collateral damage again.”

Robby nodded, taking a deep breath. “I might be overstepping, and I get if it’s a last resort, but if you ever feel unsafe at your apartment, you’re welcome to sleep at mine.”

You furrowed your brow, scoffing. “Is that really professional?”

“Just be respectful; and unless you’re dying, you’re on the couch.”

You both chuckled, the overall day only becoming more ludicrous by the second. You decided to add onto it.

“So, save for Collins and King,” you held your pinky up. “swear to never tell anyone about us?”

He snickered. “Really?”

“Yeah, mutually assured destruction. Whoever tells, has their pinky broken.”

“Makes perfect sense.” He locked his pinky with yours. “Do we have to swear on anything or-?”

“-Nope.” You let go. “Pinky sworn.”

It felt natural after that, how you moved to hug him with no hesitance. He responded in kind, enveloping you into his arms. It felt…different. When you thought of it, the only times you really embraced were in moments of desperation, passion, even.

Now, it was quiet. For the first time that day, you felt at peace; both in your body, and inside his arms.

When he pressed his lips to your cheek just for a second, while it brought back memories, it was simply innocent.

He pulled away first from you, and you rubbed your eyes. “Thanks. Sorry about everything.”

“Don’t be.” He said. “‘Let everything happen to you, beauty and terror. Just keep going, no feeling is final.’”

“Oh hell yeah,” you smiled. “Jojo Rabbit.”

He furrowed his brow, not hiding his amusement. “Rainer Maria Rilke.”

“Yeah, it was in Jojo Rabbit.”

“Really? Haven’t seen it.”

“Oh, you’d love it. It’s about a little German boy in the 1940s who has an imaginary friend, and you’ll never guess who it is!”

“I don’t think I want to know who it is.” He chuckled.

You hummed, feeling just a little better. You looked around the alleyway, feeling as if you weren’t outside of an ER. “No wonder this is Jack’s favorite place to have a mental breakdown.”

“I would’ve thought the roof?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you saw that he wanted to take them back.

You blinked. “The…what?”

Well, there was something you had to talk to Jack about. It certainly wouldn’t be that night; too much to unpack.

“You didn’t hear it from me.” Was all Robby said, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

Sighing, you took it. “Think he’ll say more to me, or to you?”

“Whenever I find him up there,” he pulled you up. “I just guilt trip him into not jumping because that’s a horrible way to start a shift.”

“On parr with finding out you screwed the new hire?”

“Don’t push it.”

You snickered. “I’ll leave you alone. Have a good night.”

He wished you one as well, watching you go back into the ER, carrying all of your belongings. It seemed about as chaotic as you had known the night shift to be; although, it wasn’t even seven-thirty. There was one more person you wanted to see before you left.

Turns out though, there were two more who needed to speak with you.

“We’re not gonna ask if you’re okay because you’ll probably have an aneurysm.” Trinity Santos came up to you with Dennis Whitaker at her side. Her hair was down.

“Okay?” You snickered, then looked at Whitaker. “Hey…thanks. I’m sorry your nose is fucked.”

He shook his head, offering a shy smile. “Don’t be. My brothers have hit me harder.”

“Aw, he’s just being modest.” Santos draped her arm around his shoulder. “He’s a regular ol’ Superman.”

“More like Clark Kent.” He corrected.

“Same person, Huckleberry.” She counter corrected. “Okay, so medically speaking, how are you doing?”

You pursed your lips. “Medically, my nose isn’t broken but always needs an icepack, I kinda have a headache, and my ribs hurt. Emotionally…everything.”

Santos nodded, a forlorn feeling upon her face; but somehow, you didn’t feel like she was pitying you. “I was about to beat the shit out of that guy if I didn’t have a baby coming in at the same time for a spinal tap. But we-Dennis has a proposition for you.”

All eyes fell on the poor boy whose nose bore a similar, semi-swollen resemblance to yours. He stumbled a little until he found the right words.

“We sometimes get together after a shift and watch a movie to decompress. We get food, and the person who had the worst day gets to choose the movie. We uh…we kinda appointed you, if you want to come. It wouldn’t be anything huge, just the three of us. That might be too much, and maybe you’re exhausted-.”

“-Oh,” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “so the only reason you’re inviting me to this secret movie club is because I got the shit beaten out of me?”

“No!” Whitaker gasped. “I-we just thought it’d be good to help overall after a stressful shift-.”

“Huckleberry,” Santos snickered. “she’s just fucking with you.”

He paused. “Oh…”

You smiled. “I’d love to. I uh…I technically shouldn’t be driving but my car’s here-.”

“-Do you mind stopping at Target to get some snacks?” Santos asked.

Pleasantly surprised by her question, you chuckled. “Um, no?”

“No sorry,” she laughed at herself. “I mean that I’ll drive your car, but is it okay if we get snacks on the way back to my place?”

“Oh! Yeah, sounds good.”

“Great!” She slipped her keys out of her pocket, holding them out to Whitaker. “You remember how to drive something other than a tractor, right?”

He made a face. “I’ve never driven a tractor before.”

“Bullshit, you told me you did.”

He shrugged. “Nebraska doesn’t even exist, why would I know how to drive a tractor?”

The conversation from earlier that day came to mind, and you saw in his eyes that he had it in mind as well. You smiled, turning your face down to hide it from the world. It had been a while since you had an inside joke with someone.

Whitaker took the keys. “I’m just kidding. Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“See you soon.” You wished him goodbye. Santos gave him a nod before he left. She turned to you, a shit eating grin on her face. You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “Ready to go?”

“Actually, I need to talk to someone first.”

“Who?”

Ah fuck it, You decided.

“My stepdad.” You answered. “He works the nightshift.”

“Damn! Who?”

You smirked. “You’re welcome to follow me at a distance to see.”

She made a face as if debating it. “Nah, I’ll give you privacy.”

Smiling, you nodded. “I’ll see you out front?”

“See you.”

She left through the doors into Chairs. Sighing, you began your search for Jack. On the way, you said a quick ‘hello’ to Ellis and went to check up on the little girl who had a bee sting. She was still there, speaking with the same police officer you had.

Your name cut through the air, and you looked to your right, seeing Jack approaching you. He wore the same look on his face you’d only seen on parents who had just lost their child in a supermarket only to soon find them.

“Hey.” He greeted once he stood in front of you.

“Hi…” You said. “Uh…is it okay to talk? I don’t know if you’re busy-.”

“-Unless Death himself comes into the ER, we’re gonna talk.”

Jack Abbott had technically only been a father for a few years (who knows if you can even count all of them considering you barely were at home after high school?), but he somehow managed to perfectly blend his strict tone into one of reassurance.

So, the two of you walked into the breakroom, and he spoke first.

“How was the shift?”

You smiled, sitting at the table. “Aside from getting the shit beaten out of me by my roommate’s boyfriend? Pretty okay.”

He sat beside you. “That’s a win in my book.”

That was the thing you and Jack had in common the second your mom introduced you to him: dark humor. You never hated him, but you never exactly got close with him. Maybe it was time to change that?

“Are you still in any pain?” He asked.

“Nose is getting a little better but is still sore, and so are my ribs.”

Jack nodded. “You got a ride home tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m actually gonna go hang out with Santos and Whitaker at their place, and then…” You couldn’t finish it. What were you going to do? You didn’t have the strength anymore to lie, saying you’d drive back to your apartment where Kimi might be.

You refused to stay with Robby, maybe Santos and Whitaker would take pity on you?

“I don’t know.” You choked on your words. “I said some horrible things to Kimi, but she also blamed me for what Trent did, and I…I don’t wanna go back to the apartment.”

Jack’s eyes softened. “You still got a key to the house?”

“Yours? Yeah.”

“If you want to, your room’s still the same.”

You hadn’t slept in it since your mother died. You’d sometimes drive home from college and sleep over, so both your mom and Jack left it alone.

“You didn’t change it?” You couldn’t believe it.

He shrugged. “It’d take more effort to turn it into something else. I mean, it’s probably dusty as hell, but your bed’s still there, all your weird little trinkets and stuff from high school too.”

You scoffed. “It’s only weird to you, grandpa.”

“Sure, Jan.”

Both of you snickered, falling back into a rhythm you hadn’t known you lost. As it died down, Jack asked.

“But, you’re doing okay, kiddo? If you want to talk about it-.”

“-Not tonight.” You interrupted. “It’s just a lot but…you’ve probably seen worse.”

Jack looked like he wanted to say more, but he held back. It would’ve led down a farther hole of trauma, which you both knew you could not deal with. Instead, he asked. “You do anything I taught you?”

You grinned. “Yeah. Kicked his knee in and got creative with what I had around me.”

“Your pad, I heard.”

“It was his own fault he dabbled in fuckery!”

“Certainly was.”

“What…happened to him?”

Jack’s face grew sullen. Breathing through his nose, he said. “I got to him first and Robby had to pry me off. Bastard’s lucky he didn’t get a taste of my right foot.”

Damn…he was serious.

“Police took him away; I didn’t even get a slap on the wrist because he assaulted both you and a student doctor.”

You nodded. “Thank you...”

“Don’t mention it.”

You both fell into a tender yet awkward silence. There was so much but also nothing to say. It was actually Jack who tried to end the conversation.

“Well,” he stood. “I don’t wanna keep you from your new friends-.”

“-Would you wanna get breakfast sometime?”

It just fell from your mind and out of your mouth. You were hungrier than you thought and also wanted to spend time with him.

Despite working several shifts with Jack, and knowing him for years, you never saw him so surprised. Still, his face soon relaxed into one of mild glee.

“I’d love to, kiddo. How does tomorrow after my shift sound?”

Your eyes grew. “Really? You wouldn’t want to sleep in or something?”

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

You weren’t going to cry, you had decided. Your stepfather, and essentially everyone else who had comforted you that night, were making it incredibly difficult.

“Do you need a hug?” He asked upon seeing your face; and most likely your attempt at repressing tears.

You shook your head. “I’ll bawl my eyes out again, and I gotta be somewhere after this.”

He hummed. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass you now, would I?”

“Well…” You placed your hand on his shoulder, attempting to still have physical affection without being overly vulnerable.

The awkward act, alongside a beat of silence, caused a fit of giggles to erupt between both of you. You must’ve laughed this hard with him at some point, but you couldn’t remember.

“I have therapy tomorrow at ten-thirty anyway.” He said, recovering.

“How’s it been?” You asked.

“Fine, nothing out of the ordinary.”

You nodded. “I’m really proud of you for going. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He shifted in his seat but smiled. “Honestly, with what you’d been studying, it helped convince me. It sounds like the bare minimum for everyone if they’re able to go.”

Smiling, you teased. “You’re doing great; you’re raising my standards for men.”

“That a fact?”

You hummed. “If you didn’t start going to therapy, I would’ve married the first military man who asked, even if I only met him three weeks ago.”

“Hell no,” he played along. “eight weeks, I told you that.”

“Would you have proposed to my mom that quickly if you met her before you were deployed?”

“I would’ve married your mother sooner because I loved her.”

“Did you think that while you were dating her?”

“Of course I did.” He leaned forward, saying your name. “There are some people in this world who know in an instant who they want to spend the rest of their life with.”

You pursed your lips, thinking back to Robby, and everyone else you had ever dated in your life. “I don’t think I’m one of them.”

“And that’s okay.”

Sighing, you looked down at your watch and immediately stood with your belongings. “I should go. Hey…thanks for everything.”

Jack got up with you. “Don’t mention it. You got a ride?”

“Yeah, Santos. She’s driving my car.”

“Are you gonna sleep at the house tonight?”

“Uh huh.” You walked out of the breakroom, and he followed. “I’ll pick you up after your shift and we can get breakfast.”

“Are you okay to drive home?”

You turned to face him in the hall as you approached the door to Chairs. “I’ll be fine. If anything bad happens, I’ll call Ellis because you don’t have your phone on you, and she can tell you. Okay?”

Jack sighed. “Just doing my job, kiddo. Have you figured out which shift you want to do?”

That was the question. You’d done a week’s worth of the night shift, and only one day shift. You enjoyed people on both, and had personal history with both of the attendings…

“I think the day mostly.” You said. “I can’t come back in tomorrow, but I will after that. I think I like the vibe more. But, I’d also like to do at least one night shift a month; maybe two.”

Independence, but also not ignoring your stepfather’s existence.

Jack smiled. “I think that sounds reasonable. Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Jack.”

You’d work your way up to ‘dad’, and even the casual ‘I love you’. Still, it was more than apparent both of you were wholeheartedly fine with where you were at. Progress, that was what was being done.

Finally, you made your way out to the front of the hospital, and there was Santos, leaning against a streetlamp. She smiled, approaching you.

“How’s your daddy?”

You snorted. “He’s doing fine. How was your shift?”

She began walking to the parking lot with you beside her. “Not bad. I mean, kinda boring until your roommate and her batshit insane boyfriend came.”

“Glad they could entertain you.”

“I don’t mean it like-.”

“-No, I know.” You eased. “Do you have Mel’s number?”

She took out her phone. “Yeah, why?”

“I had her take pictures of my injuries, and I have to send them to the police.”

Santos glanced up at you. “How’d it go talking with them?”

“Eh.” You shrugged.

She chuckled, showing you her phone with Mel’s number on the screen. You created a new contact in your phone, then texted Mel as you and Santos walked.

“Hey, it’s your fellow member of the ‘Dead Moms and Unknown Dads’ club.”

Just as you typed it, you deleted it. Apparently, you still had the mental power to overthink things.

“Hey it’s,” you typed your name. “Could you please send me the pictures you took so I can give them to the police?”

It was then you decided to send another message. One completely different.

“I still owe you dinner, or lunch if you prefer. If you have any questions about what Kimi said after I blew up at her, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m okay with talking about it. Just could you not bring it up to anyone else, please?”

You had a feeling she wouldn’t text back that night. Maybe she’d talk about it tomorrow, or maybe she never wanted to hear about it? Still, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“All good?” Santos asked.

You smiled, putting your phone back in your pocket. “Good.”

“If you ever need help with legal shit, I’ve kinda been around the block with it.” She reassured. “But I know you’re probably smart enough to handle it if you want.”

“Thanks.”

The two of you walked in silence, apparently you had parked in Kansas, your car was so far away. To fill the space, Santos said.

“Whitaker likes you.”

You looked over at her, a funny look on your face. You knew what she meant but tried to deflect. “Yeah, I like him too. He got decked in the face so I wouldn’t.”

“No.” She shook her head, chuckling. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I think he wants to ask you out.”

There it was. Even with all the shit that happened to you that day, there were good things. You reconnected with your stepfather, you somehow managed to have the most mature “breakup” with a guy twice your age, his ex-girlfriend took care of you despite knowing about all the shit you had done, and you made new friends for the first time in a while.

Still…it was all so much.

“I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone right now.” You admitted. “I’ve got a lot going on.”

“No, of course.” She said. “I just wanted to give you a heads up, just in case if you weren’t feeling that way towards him, or if you were-.”

“-Trinity,” you stopped her, smiling. “I’m good.”

She nodded. “Right.”

Even with an abrupt ending, there was not a hint of discomfort. After finally finding your car, you thought it would’ve all been over when.

“Hey, doctor Robby.” Santos greeted.

You drew your head up at his name and saw him approaching the car beside yours. This whole time…he had parked beside you and hadn’t even known. He rose his brow as if he had the same thought process as you.

“Hey, how’re you two?” He asked.

She shrugged. “We’re just dying down for the night, you?”

“Same. I have a date with my bed.” He chuckled, then looked right at you. “Are you doing alright? I can only guess how many times you’ve been asked that.”

You smiled. “Several, but I’m doing better now.”

“That’s good. Are you okay to drive?”

Santos jumped in before you could answer. “Nah, I’m driving little miss Starshine.”

“Starshine?” He asked, trying to hold back his amusement.

You hid your face in your hands. “Oh god.”

“How’d you get that from Dr. Santos’ extensive list of nicknames?” He questioned.

Santos took that as her cue. “She had too much caffeine one night shift, and both Whitaker and I were greeted by her.”

“It’s not that funny.” You rolled your eyes.

Robby disagreed. “I for one think it’s hilarious.”

Santos jumped in. “Please say you’re in tomorrow. I was gonna rely on her to be entertaining, but Kiara ordered her to stay home.”

He clicked his tongue. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s my day off.”

She sighed. “At least tell me you’re gonna do something useful.”

“I was thinking of going to a coffee shop, maybe.”

“Where?” You asked, curiosity bettering you.

Robby pursed his lips. “I heard Big Dog is good. Ever been?”

You tilted your head, managing to hide how perplexed you were. “Yeah, a few times. It’s alright.”

“I might try that one.”

All you could do was smile, not knowing his intentions. It could have been bait for a reconnection, it could have been a way of saying goodbye to a fantasy, or it could have just been him making conversation.

You tossed the keys to Santos. “Let’s go before Target closes.”

She smirked, unlocking the door. “You think I drive slow?”

“Maybe.”

Robby stepped in. “Please don’t get either of yourselves killed.”

“Yes sir, Dr. Robinavitch sir.” Santos snorted, getting into the car. “Come on, Starshine.”

You gave Robby one last smile before ducking into the passenger seat. After buckling up, Santos plugged her phone into the aux chord.

“Don’t play trash.” she said, starting the car and putting it into reverse.

Snickering, you put on your favorite song. As Santos pulled out of the parking spot, you made eye contact with Robby. Not knowing what else to do, you waved to him.

He waved back.

While Santos drove, you couldn’t help but ponder the day. It was one of the worst, there was no doubt about that, and it ended with more questions than answers. Yet, where that would leave you in a deep storm of turmoil, you decided to weather it.

If all of that happened in a day, who’s to say what would happen in a year?

Maybe you’d still be in Pittsburgh, maybe you’d be in a different continent.

Maybe you’d still be single, maybe you’d be married.

Maybe you’d still be roommates with Kimi, maybe you’d never talk to her again.

Maybe you’d still work the day shift, maybe you'd switch back to the night.

The best part?

You didn’t have to know right away.

#the pitt #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #doctor robby x reader #robby x reader #dr robby x reader #dr robby #dbf #jack abbot #trinity santos #dennis whitaker #mellisa king #heather collins #dennis whitaker x reader #trinity santos x reader #melissa king x reader #michael robinavitch

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honeyroots · 2 months ago

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beau arlen x younger gf in her 20s who happens to be troublemaker who he bails out every once in a while

and the age gapppppp daddy beau

need him to lecture me on how crimes ain't good while fucking me slow

WARNINGS: MDNI. 18+ / p in v / fem!reader / shower sex / implied age gap / reader is slightly troubled / praise LOVE NOTE: ty ty anon

“M’not mad,” Beau shook his head, opening the door to the airstream. His place was neat, tidy, just like it had been when you left last night. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you really weren’t sure what to say to him. A couple times your mouth had opened and closed, the idea of how to apologize dancing on the tip of your tongue, but it wasn’t the first time he had to bail you out of some sort of trouble you managed to wrap yourself in which made the encounter even more shameful. “Just disappointed.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the shower. Turning the dial for hot water, Beau let out a few huffs in what seemed to be frustration as he peeled the clothes off your body. With makeup smeared down your cheeks, and your clothes covered in what could have been vodka or tequila, he just wanted to get you both in the shower to wash away the mistakes you made last night.

Your eyes wandered as Beau stripped his own clothes off— first his shirt, then his belt… The sight of him was mouth watering, and it felt like if you didn’t have skin-to-skin contact with him soon, you might actually combust. Hands laced together, he guided you into the shower, slowly shoving you under the water to rinse the blackened makeup from under your eyes. “There she is,” Beau commented, using his thumb to wipe the eyeliner stains from your face. “When I picked you up, you looked like a mess.”

“Sorry,” you whined, leaning forward to press your head against his chest. Gently, with the tenderness only someone like Beau Arlen had, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. “I know I messed up big time. Let me make it up to you?”

Beau furrowed his brows, causing a small indentation in his forehead. It felt a little… morally corrupt that you were trying to make it up to him through sex, but sometimes he felt like the only way to get through to you was to gently rock into you, whispering sweet praises into your ear. With ease, he lifted you up, pressing your back against the shower as he lined the tip of his cock with your slit. Pushing into you, he held back the groans that accumulated in his throat, instead offering, “What you did was wrong, darlin.”

Your breaths came out uneven, sucking in gasps as he bottomed out. Gripping the muscles of his shoulder, you mumbled small apologies, ‘sorry’ falling from your lips over and over again. Maintaining eye contact with him was hard when you knew he was disappointed, and the worst part of it all is that you knew he wasn’t doing this to make himself feel good. He was doing this for you.

“Why are you always gettin’ into some sort of trouble?” Beau steadied himself, hitching you up further as he slowly pushed into you. Somehow, sex in the shower— the space so confined— was even more intimate than sex in bed. “You need a little attention?”

Deep shame swirled in your stomach, feeling called out by his words. There was some truth to it; being in trouble got you attention, especially from Beau. With your lips pressed to his shoulder, avoiding eye contact as he thrusted in and out at a leisurely pace, you could only nod your head in response.

“Next time you want a little attention, just tell me, baby. Don’t have to put on a show like this. You’re doing so well for me.” Beau said softly, treading the waters with you lightly. It was hard to miss the way you tensed up as he offered soft praise, the way your walls contracted around him, your orgasm on its brink. He didn’t want to push you too far, not when you were so susceptible to shutting down on him, but he truly thought that maybe he was the first person to actually care for you— maybe that’s why you didn’t receive it so well. And Beau was more than happy to chip away at you. “I know you can be a good girl.”

And that is what sent you over the edge, walls clenching around him as you finished.

#doll: beau #꒷︶꒷꒥꒷; library #beau arlen smut #beau arlen fanfiction #beau arlen fanfic #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen angst #big sky smut #big sky x reader #beau arlen prompt

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facelessxchurch · 3 months ago

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I was just about to say that Nef is as tall as Mr Bliss which breaks my brain because I headcanon Nef to be as tall as Skulduggery which is 6,4 ft. It just fits that they would have the same height with then being rivals and equals. Nef is smarter than Skul, but Skul is a better melee fighter, their magic is about the same in strength when ignoring Vile and Nef could hold his own against Vile, who, as an undead, wields the purest form of necromancy, surprisingly long, so Nef's magic is potent AF.

But I headcanon Mr Bliss as towering over Skul which is in direct conflict with me seeing Nef as the same height as Skul because Nef and Bliss have canonly the same height and it frustrates me to no end.

An old but still a good headcanon is that a lot of people think Nef is small because they only see him next to Mevolent who is HUGE with 8ft or from afar or meet him in his office where he's sitting behind a desk (while enjoying a glass of wine, probably) so when they come face to face with him up close while he is standing upright they are always so surprised about how tall Nef is which Nef thinks is hilarious. He also likes to wear heels (it was in fashion for men at the time) so the already tall man gets even taller.

Nef is a tall, lean weed boi but Mev is an even taller weed boi <3

how tall we thinking serpine is fellas.

#I honestly hate that a bunch of the fandom headcanons him as short #because it comes from the part of the fandom that doesn't care about Nef #and only cares about him in the context of his interactions with Skul and Val #and I see them just get basic stuff wrong like one person thinking he didn't kill Skul and his family in the Leibniz Dimension #eventho L Nef states multiple times that he did #or that Nef doesn't actually like to torture people #when half his personality is being the worst sadistic fuck you"ve ever met #or most of the fandom thinking Nef is a coward that can't fight #when he showed multiple times to have balls of steel and to be a pretty decent fighter #sorry for the rant in the tags #I'm just very frustrated over how underappreciated my boi is #and yeah #he's MY boi #just look at my blog #it's full of Nef and Mev and Faceless Church stuff #i'm the one that made a master post about Nef's magic and everything canon about the Faceless Church in phase 1 #fck phase 2 tho that ain't canon #Nefarian Serpine #headcanon #also I headcanon Serafina to be 7 ft tall #so Nef looks tiny compared to the royal couple eventho he's a tall bastard man #another reason for the heels is that they make his calves and ass look nice

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iris88877 · 1 year ago

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SYNASTRY OBSERVATIONS PART-1-

Moon Opposite Mars: When your Moon opposite their Mars, get ready for some serious sparks. Emotional outbursts? Hell yeah. Passionate fights? Alright bet. But the make-up game? Pure fire. This mix is all about those raw, unfiltered feels – the highs, the lows, and everything in between.but before entering the relationship make sure that the love is here because if you go for this relationship based on passion and intensity it may go wrong and be dangerous so make sure to be wise enough to know what are you in Exactly to not end up being abused or bullied or violated and this is specially for the moon person, yeah the passion is there but make sure this passion don't turn sour ok ?

Venus Opposite Mars: When your Venus is opposite their Mars, it’s a classic case of opposites attract. There’s a magnetic pull that’s hard to resist – the kind of attraction that’s intense and all-consuming. But it also leads to some epic clashes. It’s all about balancing that love-hate dynamic, where the passion is real, but so are the conflicts. You might have explosive arguments followed by passionate reconciliations, making this connection as volatile as it is thrilling. And I. Some situation this can be one sided love and it's always the venus person that love the mars person more😭

Moon-Saturn aspects : now hear me out, this synastry aspect always have the same situation: the Saturn person will never feel the moon person emotions like NEVER , let me tell you , it's like the Saturn person feels they can't keep up with the moon person sensitivity, they will see the moon as too sensitive for no reason at some point , in the beginning of the relationship everything is okay but as soon as the moon person become comfortable and open up about their emotions and sensitivity , the Saturn person is out , they just can't do it it's so hard for them to do that specially if you guys don't have compatible moon signs ( even if you have compatible moon signs it's still tuff) but with incompatible moon signs , congratulations you're cooked buddy ain't gonna lie about it , the Saturn person will never love the moon person in 100% way , in every relationship with this aspect they will never love the other person as the moon person expect them to be because theey will always feel like their love should be limited and their emotions should be limited for the moon person , it may last long but the relationship will be soo cold from Saturn side and too sad from the moon side but the thing is that the moon person's emotion is fixed on the Saturn person and they don't wanna leave them at any cost even if the relationship may hurt them and kill them , they don't wanna leave it they would prefer to be dead and never leave the relationship , and broo that's hella toxic , I find this aspect someway or form worst than pluto-moon aspects I said what I said ..

North node conjunct mars : When your North Node conjunct someone else's Mars, it's like you’ve got this dynamic energy propelling you forward. Mars is all about action, drive, and getting things done, while the North Node represents your life’s purpose and the path you’re meant to follow.Imagine having a partner who’s always encouraging you to chase your dreams and take risks. They light a fire under you, pushing you to step out of your comfort zone and go after what you really want. It’s like having someone who believes in you more than you believe in yourself sometimes.This connection can be super motivating. If you’ve been feeling stuck or unsure about your direction, their Mars energy can give you that extra kick to start moving. It’s like having a personal cheerleader who’s also ready to kick your butt into gear if you’re slacking.But it’s not just about them pushing you , you also inspire them to channel their energy into something meaningful. It’s a two-way street where you both help each other grow and evolve. Your goals might become more aligned, and you find yourselves working together towards common aspirations.There can be a bit of a challenge too, because Mars can be aggressive and impatient. Sometimes, their way of motivating you might feel a bit too intense or pushy. It's like when a trainer pushes you harder than you’re ready for, which can be overwhelming. But if you can handle the intensity, it leads to significant growth.In relationships, this aspect adds a lot of passion and drive. It’s like you’re both on a mission, whether it’s building a life together, working on projects, or simply pushing each other to be the best versions of yourselves. There’s a sense of purpose and urgency in your connection, making things feel exciting and forward-moving.So, having your North Node conjunct someone’s Mars is like finding that perfect balance between motivation and support, pushing you to achieve greatness together.

Mars square Pluto : so here we go , Mars square Pluto in synastry is like having a relationship with a lot of fireworks, but not always the good kind. Imagine you're constantly butting heads with your partner, like every little thing turns into a massive argument. One of you might always try to dominate the other, leading to a lot of power struggles. It's like you're both trying to steer the ship, but you keep crashing into each other. There’s always this underlying tension, like walking on eggshells, because you never know when the next big blow-up is coming. You might find yourself in situations where jealousy and possessiveness are off the charts, like one of you is always checking the other's phone or getting paranoid about what they’re doing. The arguments can get really heated, with both sides saying things they don't mean, turning minor issues into major drama. On the flip side, the sexual chemistry is intense, almost too intense... This aspect is a wild ride, full of ups and downs, and it can either push you to grow or completely wear you out.

Neptune square mercury : I was asking myself if should I talk about this aspect or not but let's go for it , this aspect is like trying to chat through a haze, Period . You're always missing each other's point, like saying one thing and your partner hears something completely different. Imagine planning a date, but somehow ending up at different places because one of you misread the message. Conversations feel like you're on different wavelengths, almost like talking to someone who's half-listening or daydreaming. It's like trying to get something important across, but they keep drifting off or interpreting it in a way you didn't mean.This can also lead to some sneaky behavior or little white lies. Maybe you feel like your partner isn’t always straight with you, or details get conveniently left out. Picture saying you're out with friends and them imagining a wild party when you’re just chilling at a cafe. The lines between truth and imagination blur, making trust a bit tricky.You might also find yourself feeling disoriented in discussions, like you can’t pin down what they really mean. It's a lot of "Wait, what did you mean by that?" or "I thought you said something else." It can be frustrating because you're always trying to read between the lines and guess what they’re really thinking.

Uranus square ascendant : this feels like you're both trying to find a balance between staying true to yourselves and being open to new ideas and experiences. The Uranus person might push you to step out of your comfort zone, which can be exhilarating but also a bit unsettling. I'm not saying it's a bad aspect but let's say it's a friendship , you and your friend are always on the lookout for the next adventure, constantly pushing each other to try new things and explore new ideas. The Uranus person may bring a sense of freedom and liberation to the friendship, encouraging the Ascendant person to break free from routine and embrace change BUT this can lead to a dynamic and stimulating friendship, it can also create tension, especially if one person feels like the other is pushing them too far out of their comfort zone. AND if it's a romantic relationship this aspect in any type of relationship add excitement for sure whether it sometimes conjunct the MC ( excitement in you career) or the IC ( excitement in your home environment or in your emotions in general) but this aspect can lead to conflicts maybe a lot of conflicts , especially if one person feels like their need for independence is being stifled by the other. It's like trying to find a balance between being true to yourself and being part of a partnership. If not managed well, this aspect can lead to a relationship that feels chaotic and unstable, with both partners feeling like they're never on solid ground.

#astrology #astrology tumblr #astro observations #astro notes #astro community #astronomy #kpop astrology #free gaza #love #happiness #synastry observations #synastry #synastry chart #synastry notes #synastry overlays #synastry aspects

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rosierin · 4 months ago

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detour to nowhere | atsumu, osamu, suna

synopsis; a road trip, a wrong turn, and a secret lagoon.

what starts as a simple detour turns into an impromptu adventure—featuring questionable navigation, an ice-cold betrayal, and a car full of sunburnt idiots just trying to make it home.

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

The summer heat clung to the car like a second skin—thick, sticky, and unrelenting. With the windows rolled down, the scent of pine and warm asphalt drifted in, offering little relief. Upbeat music hummed from the speakers, a lively contrast to the sluggish, suffocating air.

(Y/n) sat in the front seat, twirling an ice pop against her tongue, hoping the sweet chill would provide some respite from the relentless sun. In the backseat, Suna had resorted to fanning himself with an old magazine he’d fished out from under Osamu’s seat, his efforts half-hearted at best. The crinkling pages stirred weak gusts of warm air against his face.

“This is useless,” he muttered, dropping the magazine onto his lap with a sigh.

“This is all yer fault,” Osamu grumbled, glaring at his twin through the rear-view mirror. His grip on the steering wheel tightened. “If ya hadn’t insisted on takin’ the ‘scenic route,’ we wouldn’t be stuck on these mountain roads in the middle of nowhere.”

There was an unusual bite to Osamu’s words, one that almost made Atsumu wince. He wasn’t wrong, though. They’d been driving for hours, with seemingly no end in sight. And, worst of all—

“I’m fuckin’ starvin’.”

(Y/n) spluttered a laugh.

Ah. There it was.

“Uh oh. Someone’s hangry,” came Suna’s voice from the backseat.

Osamu exhaled sharply but didn’t deny it.

“Relax, 'Samu. Look at this view!” Atsumu leaned forward from the passenger seat, gesturing toward the horizon. The mountains stretched endlessly ahead, rolling into the distance beneath an impossibly blue sky. “Quit bein’ a drama queen, yer not gonna starve.”

“I might.”

(Y/n) chuckled as the brothers bickered, then caught Osamu’s not-so-subtle side-eye. She turned her head, curious, only to catch him quickly tear his gaze away from her half-eaten ice pop.

Smirking, she held it out. “Want the rest?”

His response came out almost breathless. “Yer an angel.”

Snorting, she handed it over, and Osamu took it with a newfound glimmer in his eyes.

Behind them, Atsumu made his distaste very clear. “That's disgustin'," he said with a sneer.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. Osamu scoffed, swirling the ice pop around his mouth like it was fine wine. “Don’t act like ya wouldn’t do the same.”

(Y/n) caught the blonde twin roll his eyes in the rear-view mirror and turned her attention back to Osamu. “Think that’ll keep you goin’ for the rest of the drive?”

Osamu hummed airily. “For now.”

Thud.

A series of grunts sounded around the car as the tires bumped over something big—a rock? A log? Osamu winced like it had physically wounded him.

“My car ain’t built for these damn roads,” he lamented with a fake sob. “If I scratch it—"

"Your car’s already scratched," Suna interjected, chin propped against his palm.

Osamu waved a hand. "That ain't the point.”

Then, like a supportive parent, he gave the dashboard a reassuring rub. “Don’t listen to ‘em, girl. Yer perfect.” A firm smack followed as he gave his car one last affectionate slap—earning quiet chuckles from (y/n) and Suna.

“Can you believe this car gets more action than any of ‘Samu’s girlfriends?” joked Suna.

Atsumu let out a wheeze.

Osamu—forever the bigger person—exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “Ya say that like I’ve had many to begin with.”

“Do I detect sadness?” (Y/n) teased.

Osamu shook his head. “Nah. I’m happily single, thanks.”

(Y/n) nodded in approval. “Period.”

Atsumu and Suna exchanged a glance.

Somehow, their faces read: We can’t relate.

After that, the conversation settled its usual rhythm, filling the car as they climbed higher into the mountains.

The winding roads grew steeper, the lush greenery growing denser around them. Every so often, the tires crunched over loose gravel, the car revving in protest as Osamu navigated the uneven terrain.

“How high up are we goin’?” Atsumu asked, peering out the window.

(Y/n) stretched her arms over her head as best she could, rolling her shoulders that had gone stiff from being sat for so long. “Feels like we’re driving straight into the clouds.”

"I miss the city," Suna murmured, eyeing the empty stretch of road ahead. The further they drove, the more deserted it felt. There were no signs, no houses, nothing but trees and the occasional hawk circling overhead.

Then, just as the thought settled in, they saw it:

A break in the trees. And beyond it—civilisation.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened as the small village came into view. They could’ve almost driven past it. Nestled between the rolling hills, tucked away as if it were meant to remain hidden from the rest of the world.

Osamu let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

(Y/n) leaned her head out the window, trying to get a better view. “I thought we were in the middle of nowhere," she said, squinting. "How is there just...a whole village up here?”

Atsumu made a show of rubbing his eyes. “Are we hallucinating? Maybe the heat finally got to us.”

Suna huffed a dry laugh. “Either that, or this is some weird fever dream.”

Osamu pulled the car off to the side of the road, turning off the engine. "Might as well check it out."

With a collective stretch and a few cracking joints, the four of them climbed out of the car, the mountain air crisp and still around them. They stood for a moment, taking in the sight before them.

The place was quiet, exuding a slow-life charm. There were no cars, save for theirs, with the occasional cow lazily meandering through the streets instead. Wooden houses with slanted roofs lined the narrow roads, their paint faded with age. The air carried the scent of fresh bread and burning wood, curling through the open space.

“This looks like something out of a movie,” (y/n) murmured, watching an elderly woman sweep her doorstep. She nodded politely as they passed.

“Where is everyone?" Atsumu muttered, craning his neck. "It’s like a ghost town."

"They’re probably inside,” Suna guessed, scanning the quiet streets. “Unlike us, they’re probably smart enough to stay outta the heat."

Osamu sighed, stretching out his arms. “Well, ghost town or not, they better have a restaurant or somethin’.”

They wandered deeper into the village, taking everything in. It was a stark contrast to the bustling city they’d left behind—peaceful, almost dreamlike. No sound of traffic, no flashing billboards. Just the occasional chatter of locals and the soft clatter of wooden shutters swinging in the breeze. Time felt slower here, like modern life hadn’t quite reached this little pocket of the world.

A quiet grumble broke through the calm.

(Y/n) blinked, placing a hand over her stomach. Huh. She’d been too caught up in their surroundings to realize how hungry she was.

As though the universe were answering her prayers, a scent drifted through the air like a siren call. Something rich and mouth-watering that had her perking up immediately.

“Samu, look!” She grabbed his sleeve, pointing ahead. “There’s a restaurant!”

On cue, Osamu’s eyes lit up, practically sparkling as he spotted the quaint little pizza place down the road.

“Homemade pizza?” His voice was almost reverent. “We’re goin’ there.”

Drawn in by the inviting scent of freshly baked dough and melted cheese, Osamu quickened his pace, dragging (y/n) along with him. Atsumu and Suna exchanged a glance before following.

Inside, they were greeted by a bearded man with flour-dusted hands, his apron tied snugly around his broad frame. His voice was rich and warm, thick with an unmistakable Italian accent.

“Benvenuti! Welcome, my friends!” he boomed, a bright grin stretching across his face. “Table for four?"

"Yes, please," said (y/n).

His large hands gestured toward a table by the window, ushering him to a booth where the air was a little bit cooler, and the gentle hum of the village provided the perfect backdrop.

“Is this okay for you?” he asked, his tone as friendly as his smile.

(Y/n) nodded politely, pulling out her chair. “This is perfect., thank you.”

The man beamed. “Fantastico! Give us a shout when you’re ready to order!”

“Grazie," she replied effortlessly.

His eyes twinkled with delight. “Oh, di niente!” he said, visibly charmed.

From across the table, Suna arched a brow. “Look at you,” he mused, leaning back. “Showin’ off.”

(Y/n) feigned modesty, waving a hand, though the smug look on her face was anything but humble. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”

“Hey, she ain’t the only one who knows Italian,” Atsumu announced suddenly.

God, here we go, (y/n) thought. Trust Atsumu to not want to be outdone.

Everyone waited expectantly as Atsumu cleared his throat, most likely for dramatic effect. (Y/n) all but rolled her eyes. Then rose her brows as he turned to nobody but her, and said:

“Ciao, bella, sei single?”

Suna looked just about ready to wither away.

(Y/n) mirrored the sentiment and pressed her eyes shut, feeling as though she needed a second to compose herself.

"That was shit," Osamu said plainly, speaking on everyone's behalf.

Atsumu obviously disagreed. "Whaaat? What do ya mean? That was good!"

Suna shook his head in mock disappointment. "Trust you to only know a pick-up line."

"S'all ya need," Atsumu countered cockily.

“Why bother to even learn that?” Osamu asked sceptically.

Atsumu, looking far too smug, shrugged a casual shoulder. “My Italian fans love me.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “And has that ever worked on anyone?”

A wink and cocky grin provided her answer. “Wouldn’t you like to know."

“Sleaze.”

“Jealous?”

"Definitely not."

Nobody at the table—including herself—seemed convinced. But she ignored Osamu and Suna's prying eyes, and especially Atsumu's all too confident grin anyway.

Thankfully, the waiter returned before any teasing could commence.

Four pizzas landed on the table, the air instantly thick with the rich scent of fresh basil, tomato, and mozzarella.

After that, teasing flowed into laughter, and hunger turned into satiation. The food was delicious, better than any pizza she had ever tried before. And with her belly now full, she could finally appreciate the true wonders of the village they had somehow stumbled into. The quaint little ginnels, the friendly locals, the lack of that claustrophobic feeling that she sometimes felt while living in the big city.

By the time their plates were empty, the sun had begun to dip, casting a golden glow over the quiet streets.

Their waiter returned with the bill, a younger man this time. “Are you local?” he asked, smiling as he placed the receipt onto the table.

“Nah, just passin’ through,” Osamu replied, rubbing a hand over his stomach. Not only had he eaten a full pizza, he'd finished some of Suna's too.

The waiter grinned. “Well, if you’re looking for something to do, there’s a lagoon not far from here. It’s a bit hidden, but it’s beautiful. Hardly anyone knows about it.”

Four pairs of eyes flicked toward each other.

Atsumu leaned in, a grin already forming. “Are we allowed to swim in it?"

The waiter nodded. “Yeah, of course!" He said, looking excited on their behalf. "I’d recommend going before sunset. It gets a little cold at the of the day.”

Osamu stood first, smiling, but not before slipping the man a generous tip. “Guess we’ve found our next destination.”

And just like that, their next adventure was set.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The group ventured through dense greenery, the sun casting long shadows as they wove their way down an overgrown path. The further they walked, the quieter it became—no roads, no houses, just the rustling of leaves and the occasional sound of birdsong.

Then, they found it.

The lagoon stretched out before them, a hidden oasis in the middle of nowhere. The water was crystal-clear, shimmering beneath the afternoon sunlight that trickled through the leafy canopy. The air smelled fresh, clean, untouched. Cliffs framed the lagoon, their rocky surfaces casting echoes of their voices back at them like their own private amphitheatre.

Indeed, the waiter was right. This place truly was like its own hidden paradise.

“Holy shit,” Atsumu breathed, taking in the view. “It’s gorgeous.”

“Who’s jumpin’ in first?” his brother challenged, already tugging his shirt over his head.

“Not me,” (y/n) said quickly, eyeing the water warily.

Osamu bumped her shoulder playfully. “Go on, (y/n). You know ya wanna.”

She took a step back. “I really don’t.”

“Suit yourself,” he sang, tossing his shirt aside.

(Y/n) suddenly blinked. “Wait—are you guys just gonna swim in your boxers?”

Atsumu, grinned, perfectly unbothered. “Yeah," he said, tossing his own shirt aside. "Unless ya want us to take ‘em off, too.”

Her scoff was instant. Her eyes shot to literally anything else—the sky, the trees, the dirt beneath her feet—anywhere but to the almost naked twins standing beside her. Even Suna had started taking off his shoes.

Not long after, Atsumu took off running before launching himself off the cliff’s edge with a loud whoop!

His voice boomed as he fell, cutting through the stillness before his body sliced through the water below.

He resurfaced with a sharp gasp, shaking droplets from his hair as he laughed breathlessly.

“FUCK, it’s freezin’!”

Osamu snorted. “Idiot.” But he was already stepping forward, egged on by his brother. He jumped—and his startled yelp before he hit the water was enough to send (y/n) into a fit of laughter.

He popped up, gasping. Hair clung to his skin, his mouth hung open like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. He took a moment to process, a broad grin plastering his face.

“Holy shit, 'Tsumu's right—it’s freezin’!”

From below, both twins turned their eyes to (y/n).

Expectant. Eager. A little too excited.

“Yer turn!” Atsumu called.

She hesitated at the edge, peering down at the water. "It's so high, though..."

She turned to Suna, who was now also standing in his boxers. She spoke in the sweetest voice she could muster. “Will you jump with me?”

“Sure,” he said easily. She should've known from that alone that something was off.

The second she stripped down (thankfully, she was wearing something decent that day), she braced herself at the edge, steeling her nerves. The drop wasn’t massive, but high enough to twist her stomach.

From below, Atsumu smirked. “C’mon, scaredy-cat.”

“Don’t make me push ya,” Osamu added.

"If you drown, we’ll bring ya back up," Suna said flatly, smirking beside her.

(Y/n) took a deep breath.

I’ve got this.

"One...Two..."

On three—she barely had time to react.

A hand firmly shoved her forward.

Her legs walked on nothing.

SPLASH.

The world went dark. A shock of icy water swallowed her whole. Every nerve in her body lit up. She resurfaced gasping—then laughing, the adrenaline mixing with the cold.

“Rin, you dick! You pushed me!”

Suna was already cackling, hands on his hips as he looked down at her.

"Whoops. Sorry, my hand must’ve slipped."

(Y/n) narrowed her eyes.

She didn’t have to say it. The twins were already looking at her, grinning like foxes. The thought passed between them silently.

Moments later, all three of them were climbing back up the cliff. Suna’s eyes flicked between them, suspicion creeping into his expression. He took a step back.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

The twins grabbed his arms.

(Y/n) pushed his back.

Panic flashed across his face. "Don’t you dare—"

The trio cackled, wicked grins plastered across their faces. Suna fought back, wriggling against their vice-like grips—but he was outnumbered.

“Rinrin’s goin’ swimmin',” Osamu announced.

(Y/n) delivered the final shove.

Suna’s arms flailed wildly as he spiralled off the edge. His yell briefly echoed before another loud splash rippled through the air.

It was, by far, the most satisfying sound of the day.

The trio howled, shoving each other around like teenagers, tears in their eyes as they watched Suna emerge from the water, looking thoroughly betrayed and possibly debating how each one of them would pay.

"You bunch of assholes," he spat, hair plastered over his face like a drowned rat.

It was impossible not to laugh.

Atsumu clutched his stomach, wheezing for air. Osamu wiped tears from his eyes. (Y/n) doubled over, face buried in her hands.

Suna sighed, rubbing his hands over his face like he was reconsidering all his life choices.

Still catching his breath, Atsumu looked down at him and grinned.

"One more time?"

Suna flipped him the bird from where he floated, his flowery words climbing all the way up the cliff.

"Go fuck yourself."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

They stayed at the hidden lagoon for most of the evening, lounging around like it was their own private paradise.

Osamu was floating around on his back, while Suna lay perched on a rock, soaking up what was left of the sun.

Meanwhile, Atsumu took it upon himself to teach (y/n) how to dive.

“Like this—watch.” He climbed onto a rock and launched himself into the water in a perfectly executed dive.

"An athlete in many fields," (y/n) said dully. Clearly, he overestimated her abilities. How was she supposed to learn how to dive simply by watching?

Atsumu was already grinning by the time he resurfaced. “Yer turn. Show me watch'a got," he taunted.

(Y/n) pulled a face, feeling uncertain. But fearing she'd be called a chicken, she climbed onto their 'diving rock' anyway.

She tried mirroring his stance, feeling awkward already. Her feet felt too far apart, her arms probably placed either too high or too low. But she gave it her best shot. She pushed off the rock, and if she had little faith to begin with, the way her belly slapped against the water was sure to deter her from ever attempting a dive ever again.

The splash sent ripples across the lagoon.

Even underwater, she could hear Atsumu's laughter. As she resurfaced, she tried shooting him a glare, but she could hardly open her eyes from the water clinging to her lashes, not to mention her hair that was plastered to her face like the girl from Rings.

Atsumu swam over and brushed a few stringy pieces of hair from her face. “Y’alright, beautiful? That was quite the belly flop.”

She smacked his hand away, fighting the heat creeping up her neck. “It’s harder than it looks, okay?”

He just grinned, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

The afternoon drifted on. At some point, their diving competitions had faded into quiet floating, the four of them lulled by the water’s gentle sway and the heavy lull of late summer. (Y/n) let herself drift along, limbs loose, face turned up to the sun. The day had worn them all down in the best possible way.

When the sun finally dipped low, painting hues of orange and lilac across the sky, she felt the first chill of evening settle over her. A breeze rolled in, feather-light and cool against her damp skin. Goosebumps rose along her arms.

Reluctantly, they all pulled themselves from the water—barefoot, shivering, and moving with the kind of sleepy clumsiness that only came after hours in the sun. (Y/n) put on her sundress, some of the fabric clinging to her skin where she had not fully dried off, wet hair sticking to her cheeks.

Osamu’s car was a welcome refuge. The seats were still warm from the day’s heat, and the air still carried lingering traces of ice pops and sunscreen from earlier today.

(Y/n) slumped into the backseat, pleasantly drowsy. The hum of music filled the space, blending with the steady purr of the engine.

She barely noticed when Suna fell asleep beside her, head tilted against the window, breathing slow and deep.

Five minutes later, sleep tugged at her too. She tried to fight it, but the weight behind her eyelids was too much. Her head dipped, landing against something solid. Atsumu, she realised.

She debated pulling away. Perhaps mumble something and sit up straight, blaming her fatigue. But Atsumu didn't tease, possibly too exhausted himself.

Instead, she felt him lean into her, his cheek resting gently against her head. His shoulder was warm, and the quiet rhythm of his breathing was oddly soothing.

(Y/n)’s lashes fluttered shut.

From the front seat, she faintly registered Osamu chuckling under his breath—maybe at them, maybe at the day, maybe at nothing in particular. But she didn't open her eyes. Just let herself sink into the moment, the sound of the tires spinning the road, the scent of the sun still clinging to her skin, the leather seats, her clothes, Atsumu's clothes.

The road ahead stretched on in winding curves through the mountains, the stars beginning to blink awake in the deepening sky.

And in that quiet, hazy moment, with her head on Atsumu’s shoulder and sleep pulling her under, she thought:

Today was a good day.

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gigglesandfreckles-hp · 6 months ago

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okay so full transparency: i've never really read much fic. i don't have a ton of free time set aside for creative/recreational purposes and the time i do have, i use to write because that just fills me up a lot more. however, i made a commitment to consume more fan-created work in 2024 and i succeeded in that!!! there were still periods where i wasn't able to read much, which has lead to an ever-growing tbr, but i wanted to take a moment at the beginning of this new year to share a hodge-podge of some (completed) fics that wow'ed me this year. a great deal of these are several years old and likely 'old news,' but i got to experience their magic for the first time in 2024 and want to spend some time showing them some love!!! in no particular order:

in losing grip by @keep--driving - 2024 was the year of me learning to love a good second chances au. this fic has all the trope-y goodness you could ever want, along with toe-curling kiss scenes, the perfect kind of humour that makes you squeal into your pillow or porridge or wherever you find yourself, and characters that you just love and root for so easily. i especially loved her take on james and lily's mums and the ways they navigate the world with and beside their children. i read a large chunk of this fic on my kindle as i pushed a stroller this autumn and i will forever associate it with peace and calmness. i'll be re-reading it soon!!!

i love you (ain't that the worst thing you ever heard) by lizardcookie - enter: the other trope i fell in love with in 2024—failed friends with benefits. the way this fic deals with grief in such a poignant, devastating, incredible way had my jaw on the floor. yes there is sexy jily, but there is also giggly jily and insecure jily and scared jily and earnest jily and oh mannnn this is the good ish. the small detail of lily coming around to sirius and james both through her help with the flying motorbike. i love the minute breakdown of lily's thick walls until they come tumbling down and james is right there, waiting, as he always is, patient and Good.

i would drink a case of you, darling by treacherous_talks - one of the tags on this fic is "a good old fashioned 'lily and james get together fic' because there aren't enough of them" so obviously i was in from the jump. this magical fic does such an excellent job at highlighting exactly what it means to be a teenager with a crush on another teenager who you think has a crush on you but you're not completely sure and so you can't ruin it because what if you're wrong. that is such a jily sweet spot i don't often see done as well as it is in this fic!!!

poison of trust by soopsiedaisies - not a jily fic! gasp! in fact, it's remus and sirius (not wolfstar) who are actually not usually as compelling a relationship as some of the other marauder era possibilities. but this fic made me eat my words because it is delicious. the part that i literally included in my ao3 bookmark and that i think about all the time is when remus tries to accuse sirius of equating harry and james and sirius says, oooooh i have chills thinking about it, "i dare you to finish that sentence." YES guarddog sirius black! his position as sole protector of the potter family will never not be important to me and this fic highlights that in such a unique and compelling way.

bad day wall by @apalapucian - there's nothing i could say about this incredible fic that hasn't been said, and recently, but truly—jayne is such a phenomenal wordsmith. this has a dash of 'texting fic,' but make it canon compliant and so beautiful it makes you wanna diiiiiie. the blackevans is unmatched, of course. but james's head-over-heels-ness for lily also has to be mentioned. i love every single one of his batty contributions to the bad day wall as he mopes and wades through all the chaos of trying (and failing) to get over lily evans.

The Guide to Becoming a Better Man for Lily Evans by bronzeagepizzeria - the shirtless james potter agenda is quite special to me, which needs to be stated right out the gate, really. the shirtless james potter who is shirtless on purpose just to get under his dream girl's skin agenda is an ascension i have yet to come back down from.

Of Chrysalism by @maraudersftw - i shall give you this, line, dangling on a stick as a perfectly buttered and garlic'ed (??) carrot, enticing you to cast your cares aside and come read this fic: "He’s spoilt, and persistent, and endearing, and she’s hopeless." like??????? yeah. okay. sure. i'll pretend that i'm capable of returning from that in this lifetime. but actually: james "my feelings matter, too" potter is so important and i love the agency this fic gives him!!!

Scenes from a Hogsmeade Pub by @bcdaily - i think i read this years ago. perhaps. idk i was basically a baby when it was published in 2012. but i recently stumbled upon it (again? maybe?) and just absolutely devoured it. this is quintessential jily to me, in each iteration, as they grow and learn each other and finally, finally, finally choose each other. each of these scenes is so carefully crafted to showcase really important moments in their relationship, but does it using really unimportant moments, which is genius. it's the grand fromage of showing, not telling, and this would absolutely be the first week assigned reading on my syllabus if i got to live out my dream as a professor on jily.

say goodbye to my heart tonight by spinawren - my bookmark for this was literally just "SQUEEEEEEE" and i don't exactly know what i meant by that, but i think it's more eloquent than anything i could come up with here. the premise of this fic is genius: james and lily repeatedly having 'one-night stands' with each other until they realise they've accidentally started dating. but james potter's devotion to being in lily evans' presence is what makes this fic belong on the top shelf!

Bluebird by ocean_away - whewwww, this fic knocked me back in a way i didn't expect. it's a second chances fic of a different calibre all around, but what stands out to me the most in this particular fic is the way james and lily are both shown to so seamlessly grow. they begin as two broken, purposefully hurtful individuals (read: teenagers) and become young adults who choose goodness and each other over and over, even though it's not easy. i feel proud of them, when i read this fic. what a labour of love for our favourite couple.

The Way the Light Looks by @stonecoldhedwig - i have nothing more to say about this fic than this: BEST KISS SCENE I HAVE EVER AND WILL EVER READ!!!!!!!!!!!

Whispers in the Dark by @yallthemwitches - okayyyy so it's difficult to choose just one of tay's fics, but this is such a stand-out to me. friends to lovers!!!! james "but i've never lied to you" potter, i want to kiss you on the MOUTH! he's so earnest, so pure, so "no actually i just wanted to see you" when he has no business being such a sweetheart. honourable mention: the beyond-precious proposal scene at the end.

Love is Complicated by @theesteemedladydebourgh - this fic feels like sitting in the most beautiful library in the world watching rain trail down the ornate, darkened windows—and then the hottest professor on earth walks up to you and snogs you without preamble. except it's made better by the fact that he is somehow both james potter and an indiana jones variant? listen. just read it. then squeal and kick your feet with me, okay?

Sunshine in my Eyes by monroeslittle - another fic i devoured on my kindle this year (but definitely not during standardised testing at school when i was supposed to be actively monitoring teenagers for academic integrity and technically signed an oath that i locked all my electronics in the closet). ahem. this is some of the most rewarding angst i have ever read, which is genuinely some of the highest praise i could ever bestow on someone. lily going to james for lessons on how to kiss and the entire scene that follows will follow me forever. they're so endearing and sweet and did not deserve all they went through. but. angst with a happy ending xx

#fic rec #jily #i could have kept going and going and going #but alas it is almost midnight and i had a baby exactly 24 hours ago so i'm going to sleep lol #ps if you know the tumblr usernames of any of the authors i didn't already link pls let me know so i can edit and add them :-)#good night world

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bettystonewell · 1 month ago

Text

TO YOU I BELONG: CHAPTER 14

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Summary: Dean isn't looking for a mate, and the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain't real. He still has free will, and saving you is just another part of the job. Except, monsters aren't the only things you need saving from... 18+ only MDNI

Chapter Word Count: 6.7k words

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy woes, anxiety, fluff, angst, poor Dean's out of his element again, nesting (I love the concept so damn much), nerf guns, pup gender reveal

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

“Oh.” Dean looked back at you, finding your eyes lit up and hopeful. He couldn’t help but smirk at the heightened interest in your scent.

“Oh?”

And your demeanour.

He gripped harder on the cushioned handle and pushed down again, feeling the layers of steel, rubber and plush padding sway beneath his fingers. “The suspension on this thing is awesome.”

“And?”

He shrugged. You were way too eager, hanging off his every word, and he needed to be tight-lipped.

“And…it might be handy.” Yeah. That would placate you while he thought this through.

Sure, this stroller had more going for it other than just being fire engine red in a sea of white, beige and black. Didn’t mean it was a good thing. The colour had drawn him to it, which meant others would be drawn, too.

Yes, he could pack a lot down the bottom of that basket. Even hide an angel blade somewhere in the handle there if he got his welder out. Engrave a devil’s trap into the chassis, but…no. No, no. You’d said you’d be able to take the pup out for walks when he wasn’t there, and he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to consider that.

Being there in that nursery store wasn’t something he’d considered either. When he’d said he wanted to take Baby out for a spin to break in the new tires and test his handy work after her incident with old Alice, he never intended you’d end up as far away from the bunker as you had.

Stupid him. He’d had plans for a simple drive. Get some groceries. Take you out to eat.

But then you’d seen that family in the diner while you were chowing down on his fries. He caught a whiff of jealousy in your scent as you saw that mom playing with her pup. The googly eyes at their fancy stroller, and Dean realised so far you’d bought nothing for your son, aside from the stuffy he’d chosen months ago.

So, what did he do?

Well, his dumbass suggested it was time you went to a store and looked at stuff for him. He was an awesome mate, after all, and he was excited - at first.

You’d buy a crib, a stroller. Maybe some essentials like wipes. A book or two. Blankets and pillows to build your nest with, which were all fine. Perfert. Wonderful. Until he stepped foot inside this joint and he was reminded why he’d tried sourcing as many of Baby’s needed parts online as he could.

Where to start? The music with its whiny drone and high-pitched piano? The mish-mash of colour, dominated by rainbows and construction truck yellow? The smell of snotty noses, diapers and Cheez Doodles? Had every kid pooped in here or was there something wrong with the plumbing?

Alright, a salvage yard would’ve had none of these things (might’ve stank a little), but the pup store had the upper hand for worst, simply on the fact you were there, amongst people he didn’t know.

He’d slung his arm over your shoulders and directed you around the other shoppers with the widest of gaps possible between you and them, following the signs to the wall of strollers on the left. You passed the conveniently located nesting section right by the cash registers on the way, of course. Full of all things fluff, including stuffed animals.

Dean may have glared at another alpha who got too close when you stopped. He may have sympathised with another who also found himself stuck while you and his omega eyed one fugly looking cushion, but he said nothing. Neither did the other guy. Though there was an eye roll when your scent peaked in full delight as you ran your fingers through the fur that could’ve passed for a muppet.

Oh god. His world was going to be full of Elmo and Cookie Monster, wasn’t it? Or that blue thing with the Australian accent he kept seeing as you walked by older pups sitting in the main part of their parents’ carts with eyes glued to their screens.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t for his little man. Nope. He’d watch Scooby and the gang. Maybe the Jetsons or the Flintstones, but there’d be none of this modern crap. Cartoons, not equipment. He could see the benefit of Wi-Fi connections and GPS.

He huffed. Tilted his head on the idea. That would definitely be handy, and his eyes travelled the length of the red stroller before him, up and down, side to side. Was there space? If he could make an EMF reader out of a Walkman, he could add a tracking device to the frame of this thing. It was big enough.

He rocked it. Pushed it back and forth under the large metal racking that housed it and then out into the otherwise empty aisle.

The wheels turned well. The front smaller ones spun around a full three-sixty and into some crumbs on the floor… Those at the back were big and thick. He touched the sole of his boot to the top of the right one and pressed hard against the rubber. Good pressure. Great shock absorption. The brake was a little flimsy, though.

“This one’s kind of expensive,” you said, taking the little swinging tag hanging off the bright red hood in your fingers and flipping it over for him to see.

Dean gawked with you at the numbers. How much? For something the kid was gonna grow out of in a year or two, this thing should’ve been made of gold and angel feathers. He stretched over the handle and pushed the padding of the seat down, and his chin into his neck.

He wouldn’t find it comfortable. Then again, his full-blown adult ass would crush the frame.

He turned back to the swell of your stomach, though. His little mango wouldn’t. Sammy never had either. He didn’t have one, being carried everywhere until he could walk from what Dean remembered.

Motel cribs and scratchy blankets that smelled like smoke - and not the good kind. A different room every other week in a shitty town, off the beaten track where they likely never returned to. That was their life. And he couldn’t even remember his mom’s nest because of it.

He’d once said he’d freak out over manicured lawns and an omega who greeted him with a “how was your day?” after some crappy office job. But this stroller with the little stitching and embossed cursive logo under his fingertips. You. The bunker, in its own way. It all represented a stability he could only ever dream of, and now, with the strong chance of it staring him in the face and in his grasp, he wanted it for his pup.

“Is this something you like?” he asked through another shrug and a slight dig of his toes into the cookie crumbs beneath him. Not sure which answer he was hoping for until it left your mouth.

“I mean. Maybe not so expensive,” you said, still holding the tag. Your face frowned as you read over the numbers again, and though you tried to hide it, he couldn’t miss the twinge of disappointment in your tone. “I’d rather get something…simpler. Especially if you’re not on board with us walking without you.”

Dean studied you a moment longer. It wasn’t safe, but he couldn’t deny you normalcy. He couldn’t deny you anything if your history was anything to go by, and the apple pie lifestyle was something you and the pup deserved.

“Maybe the red is a bit too conspicuous.” He pushed the stroller back under the rack, as if it were the real problem, and took a step over to the next one down the line.

The handle was just as soft. The suspension, sensitive, easy to move and lighter. “This is nice.”

At least, he thought. If someone had told him a year ago that he’d be standing here in this store with you, shopping for this stuff, he would’ve laughed in their face. Yet, here he was, and it was nice. And brand spanking new.

He brought it over to you and pulled you to stand in front of him, pushing his chest flush against the warmth of your back. He then leant over you, encompassed you and your bump between him and the display. His head, coming neck and neck with your own, nuzzling your mark, breathing it all in. The apple, the citrus. The odd sweetness of new plastic.

When your hands ran over the leather, he covered them with his own. Soft on soft. Soft under rough.

“You think you can imagine our little guy, all comfy in here?” he said into your ear.

When you hummed, he knew before you even spoke that you weren’t going to let him get away with it this time, but someone else said something first.

Dean had been so busy focusing on you, the stroller and trying to ignore the stench surrounding yours, he hadn’t noticed the approach.

Okay. He was overzealous on the safety front, too. He clearly had good reason to be, and his fingers gripped yours tight, squeezing your bones under the skin. Yeah, you were in a store. That didn’t mean his inner alpha wasn’t gauging anyone else as a threat, even if they worked there.

‘Too close,’ it snarled.

‘She’s a beta. Same as Donna,’ he said, and when he turned around, she was.

Yay high. A healthy dose of extra meat to her bones. If her red and white candy striped shirt was blue and donned a silver sheriff’s badge instead.

“Oh. Didn’t realise I snuck up on ya there,” she said in a voice way too cheery to be in a place like this, exactly as Sheriff Hanscum would have. “Can I help you folks choose a stroller?”

Before he could even decline, you jumped in, your thumbs gaining his attention with a squeeze of their own to loosen his grip. “We’re just trying to decide if we need one,” you said, and Dean lost a few feet off the top.

“Well, that comes down to preference.” Fake Donna nodded and approached with a casual step. Her open palms pointed to the handle, her eyes at him.

He could take a hint, and before anyone could lower his stature further, he pulled you with him to the side, keeping a hand on your waist at the ready.

“Some pups prefer to be worn, so you can get away with a carrier, especially when they’re younger, but if it’s a stroller you want, you can’t go wrong with this one.” Her foot pushed down on the brake.

“She’s sturdy.” She shook the frame.

‘Already done that.’ His tongue swept over his teeth.

“Great price too.” She patted the hood near the tag.

Well, he hadn’t looked at that, and he stretched out and grabbed it, flipping it over in his hands as you had done with the other. It was better, but he couldn’t help the deep inhale and the straightening of his spine.

“And as I said, comes with a travel system. Great for more cantankerous pups.”

Travel? Can…travelling? Dean handn’t wanted you walking without him. Screw travelling. There was no way the two of you were coming on cases with him, either. Of course, she didn’t know his ‘job,’ and thankfully, you were just as dumbfounded as he was judging by your scent.

You exchanged glances, his eyes wide, yours flitting between him and her; but when you opened your mouth to reply, she cut you off before you’d even formed a sound.

“Oh. Bless your cotton socks.” She clapped, making Dean flinch at the enthusiasm. He may have gripped you tighter. “Don’t worry. All first timers are clueless. Comes with the territory.” She chuckled, but Dean wasn’t laughing.

It was uncanny. Along with the missing badge, if you just swapped the stroller for a donut and a cup of coffee, that snort was Donna to a T.

Did she have a twin? A cousin? Was there a mirror around to check her eyes?

‘C’mon man, you’re getting paranoid.’

‘She snuck up on us,’ said his inner alpha as she got mighty close to you.

Dean soon realised he wasn’t leaving this place with just you and a stroller. Nope. With the way she was buttering you up like a sacrificial lamb with retail-speak and mentions of how you were glowing like you were old friends, you were walking out with the whole damn travel system. Maybe more.

“They’ll only stay in this for about six months, or until they can sit up, so you’d need to get both, not just the capsule,” she said. How convenient.

“Or you can get the bassinet attachment. It’s much more comfortable for their tiny tushies.” She was taking lines outta his book.

“But the capsule is probably the best choice. Don’t have to wake them if they fall asleep in the car.” Of course, it was the most expensive of the attachments, too.

“How far along are ya, hun?”

More like, how the hell did she do that? She’d pulled said capsule out and away from the frame in one fluid motion. The click, the only obvious sign something had gone down.

But then you answered. “Ah, nineteen weeks,” you said, and your smile filled your cheeks and eyes with a warmth he’d never forget.

Suddenly, he didn’t care how much the thing cost. He didn’t care if his pup was can…tan…whatever. You standing next to it, one hand tracing the cursive lettering on the handle, the other smoothing over your dress and highlighting the slight bump below it, had Dean captivated.

You made that stroller look good, and he could just picture you pushing your pup in there, all round with another one in your belly. Chuck. He couldn’t help but smirk. The apple pie life was looking mighty fine from where he was, and he closed in on the conversation, now eager to join.

“Do you know what you’re having?” Her eyes flicked to him with a sparkle, welcoming and friendly. She was actually enjoying talking to you.

“A boy.” He beat you to the punch. He took the capsule she’d picked up out of her hands, hovering it over the empty slot in the frame.

“Dean thinks it’s a boy.” Your gaze narrowed at him, and his tongue receded through a grin in retort, which she chuckled at.

“You’ll find out I’m right on Monday.”

And you would.

Just not before.

You were shown more of the store by fake Donna though, and soon that leather cushioned handle turned into the plastic rounded one of a shopping cart. A box with the stroller and its matching capsule inside that would transfer in and out of Baby once he got the right parts for her. Again.

But her candy stripe uniform had to leave you mid crib talk, having had a ‘clean up on aisle two’ kind of situation happen - right on her foot.

“Maybe for the first six weeks, he should stay with us,” Dean said. “Til you’re healed up.”

Okay, some might call researching how soon your mate could have sex after giving birth was a bit of a dick move. Yeah, no, that fit. It was exactly something Dick would do, and Dean felt guilty, even when most parts of him were curious about your healing. Whether he needed to call in a favour with heaven and get you on the mend faster. He couldn’t help if the condition of your vagina came up.

“I could set up my nest in whichever room we decide.” You were half statement, half question on that line. Your hand once again brushing over a store display.

The white wooden finish would get dusty in a place like the bunker. There had to be a reason the old geezers had chosen all dark furniture, and Dean wondered if he could also pull some strings and actually track down Mrs Butters.

“You don’t want your nest in our bed?” he said, unknowing he’d just set himself up.

“I wanna keep it free of monster guts and whiskey.” You narrowed your eyes at him and he pulled a grin from somewhere.

“I can’t help it if I miss ya when I’m gone.”

A brow raised, and he couldn’t help the husk that spiked his voice when he then said, “It was one time.” But though you smiled at his antics, the air surrounding you remained serious.

You were on the other side of the crib to him. Too far for his liking. It was harder to hear. You were closer to the front, seeming oblivious to the potential threat of the many other alphas, just as cautious as he was nearby.

Who knew if one of them would turn? He would if someone so much as looked at you the wrong way.

So he watched, helpless to appear collected from his distance as your fingers moved over the pattern of little ducks on the display mattress with an upturned lip. Your palm pressed into the springy foam, much like he’d done with the stroller. “Still have to decide about a nest birth or a hospital one.”

Hence the angels.

Dean clenched his jaw. You seemed wistful, and he wasn’t sure why.

The appointment was in four days, but the doc hadn’t given you a cut off date on anything. He’d just mentioned it last time, so you’d start thinking about it.

And he had.

It’d been on the back of his mind even before Doctor Cameron had brought it up. They couldn’t bring a doctor to the bunker if things went wrong, and your mom was out of the question even before he’d convinced you not to contact her.

He’d also convinced himself that the decision was yours, though he was hoping you’d choose the Pack Planning clinic. Cameron could be a smartass, but he trusted him to take care of you, especially when he knew he’d be useless.

Beating up Dick for hurting you was one thing. Dean, knowing he was indirectly responsible for causing you pain, was another.

“What do you think?” you asked, looking up when you realised he’d said nothing.

“You, ah, you’ve still got months to decide,” he tried. Hands darting from the cart to the pockets of his jeans. His bow legs pushed against the slats of the cribs side. The thing was sturdy.

“You mean we have.”

No. He really didn’t. Not an out loud one, at least. Opinions on taking the pup for a walk? Yeah, he had one on that. You’d just changed it with your doe eyes, and the help of fake Donna and her sales skills, but this? With his ‘I want you to be safe and in a hospital’ mindset? What if you misconstrued him to mean something else?

You were the strongest omega he knew. Granted, you could get emotional at the drop of a hat these days, which was exactly his point.

“I dunno, sweetheart. You’re the one who’s gotta do all the work. I just put him in ya.”

Your nose creased more in the middle as you circled around back to him. Your head, down and deep in thought, until you stood before him. Slid your hands in between the gap his arms formed next to his waist and gripped his hips. Played with the loops holding his belt as you brought yourself back up to search his gaze.

“You must have some input,” you said. “You get a choice, too.”

If he had a choice, he wouldn’t be in this predicament, but what to say? You were pushing it, and like the mention of hurting the pup in his argument for taking suppressants, he spoke a half truth and focused on his concerns. “I just want you both safe.”

“So do I,” you said. Bit your lip. “It’s why I’m kind of leaning towards the hospital.”

Halle-freaking-lujah. Though why you couldn’t have said that without giving him the third degree, he’d never know.

“Doctor Cameron did say I could bring some of my own nesting supplies closer to my due date. It won’t be a full nest, but there will be other omegas close by, and—”

“Hey.” Dean’s hands were up and out of his pockets, both palms caressing your cheeks. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m on board with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said, and pulled you in closer, inhaling your sweet scent. The chocolate and citrus swirling through it had him smirking.

He kissed your head first. Right on the crown. Fingers tracing little circles over your lower back, hips almost swaying, dancing, blocking out the noises and everyone else around you.

If it wasn’t for the gush of air that mimicked a cracker startling him from behind, he would’ve forgotten where he was. Lost in his own world.

His arms pulled tighter ‘round you and his head turned over his shoulder like a deer in headlights, finding a small boy holding a bright blue plastic gun, still pointed at him. A grin bigger than any of Dean’s plastered over his face.

“James!” a fellow customer screeched. “I’m so sorry,” she hissed in your direction before grabbing his hand and scooping something off the floor. “I told you not to shoot that thing inside.”

That thing was a Nerf Gun. Something Dean had never seen before, and damn straight, he went looking for it in the toy aisle the second he’d wrangled you and your shopping cart away from the cribs.

You’d purchase one another time when he could fit more in Baby’s trunk. The crib. Not the Eaglepoint RD-8 Blaster.

He bought four of them (and extra ammunition).

So what if they were for eight years and up? He’d just passed forty. He didn’t want to risk them not being around anymore when his pup came of age.

So what if he opened it to check it out and then waited up for Sam two nights later in the armchair on the landing? In. The. Dark. It was late, and the bunker had switched down into nighttime mode. The lights and buzz from the old machines below gave off just enough glow for him to see his target and keep him company.

It wasn’t his fault he got Eileen in the nose instead. Her and Sammy’s figures blended together as one, thanks to Sam’s giant Sasquatch physique.

“Hey. Woah. I’m sorry! Sammy didn’t say he was bringing anyone home?” He grit through his teeth and a head tilt, forgetting in the heat of the moment that the omega couldn’t hear him.

“Was I supposed to?” Sam scoffed. “How did you not scent her?” He’d raced to the light switch on the wall and turned it on for Eileen to see them, thus illuminating Dean’s bright red skin amongst the freckles. “I’m sorry,” he signed, before scowling at him. “You remember my brother?”

“Hey.” Dean waved his hand, Eaglepoint still in it, like the fool he felt, switching positions with them and scooting to the edge of the staircase. “I’m just gonna leave you two, to ah…see you in the morning.” He thumbed behind him. He’d find the foam bullet then, too.

“Goodnight,” Eileen said.

Sam was still giving him his best bitchface.

“Night.” He half bowed, spinning around to descend into the war room and further to room 11. He may have sniffed the air as he did, but it would appear neither Sam nor Eileen’s scents had changed.

When Dean had last left you, you’d bid him goodnight. A tender kiss. An ass grab. A gaze deep into those brilliant green eyes of his. You were tired, and even though you hadn’t had as big a day as others, you still found yourself ready for bed earlier than usual thanks to your changing body, among other things, keeping you up at night.

No, it wasn’t morning sickness. What little you’d experienced had subsided. Somehow lucky on that front. But things like leg cramps, not being able to get comfortable because of frequent bathroom visits and a bump that stuck out just enough to be in the road of lying on your stomach were causing you grief.

Now you didn’t want to sleep on your side or back. No. Tummy sleeping is what you craved, and the only craving so far.

You held that pee in as long as possible, disturbing Dean in the process when you caved and shuffled around the bed so as not to trip. Damn balance was already off centre, and as much as you insisted he stay, he still got up to walk with you down the hall or soothe the muscles cramped in your calf from the slightest movement.

And then you were excited. Anxious. All week. The nerves about deciding where and how you wanted to deliver frequenting your mind the most.

So even though you’d told Dean you were going to sleep, you hadn’t laid down at first.

No. You’d sat on the floor, legs crossed in front of you, a no longer neat pile of nesting supplies in front of them. They still lay scattered on the floor, and though it should’ve bothered you, they were a drop in the ocean compared to this feeling.

Trying to work out which items you’d take to the clinic seemed important two hours ago, even if they wouldn’t be joining you on the drive tomorrow.

What if Doctor Cameron showed you the birthing suites? Knowing what was here at home would surely help you plan.

Like Dean needed to be in control of all aspects in his life, you, at the very least, needed to be in control of this. You were an omega after all. Giving birth and nests and pup rearing were something you were meant to be good at, and being good at it required practice and planning.

There was a matter of scents and getting the balance just right on the pieces you’d chosen. As much as Dean hated the cushion with the blue fur, his reluctance when you’d added it to the cart at the store meant your omega wanted his musk all over it.

You’d picked it up, ran your fingers through each whispy strand. The little hairs tangled ‘round each of them, though bringing it up under your nose had been a mistake. It smelt wonderful, like talcum powder. But it tickled your nostrils and made your eyes water, too.

It’d be perfect under a nursing arm, though. Or resting behind your head, presuming Dean wasn’t there already.

Just another thing you needed to discuss at the appointment.

You’d leant back, arms stretching out behind you, your palms flat on the cool cement of the floor. But as you’d strained your neck to chase a glance at the clock, you could’ve sworn your stomach did something weird.

A flip? The kind you got after a small dip in the road or that one time you went on Space Mountain.

Nah.

Yeah?

Maybe.

You were twenty and two now, and you’d been waiting since week sixteen to feel them. You’d been waiting since your first.

But was that it? Would you feel it again? Because you hadn’t.

You’d sat on that floor longer than you cared to admit, waiting more, still and…patient. But when nothing seemed to come of it, you’d heaved a heavy sigh and butt-shuffled back to the bed, leaving that pile scattered. Disappointed, as you used the baseboard to prop yourself up into your non-nest.

It had to be your imagination. You were too eager because of tomorrow and the possibility of finding out. Yeah, that was it.

You’d switched off the closest light, screwing the rest. Snuggled under the blankets, lay on your back, then your side, then the other. The crisp sheets, no longer crisp, pulled and remained loose at the sides, twisted half off you in your feeble attempt to relax.

Only you’d moved back to your back. Wiggled your rear against the mattress. Felt a niggle in your middle. Like a single pop from a piece of popping candy or a throb from blood passing through your veins or Dean’s knot.

From then on out, you were still again, waiting under the low light of the usual lamp for more.

Five minutes. Ten minutes. Twelve.

You sighed. Nope. It wasn’t happening. Must’ve been your imagination, and you rolled over. Rubbed your head into the fluffy pillow. Pulled your top knee up and leant in on it. A compromise between side and tummy that’d worked the night before.

But there it was again. A pop, a flip, a throb. Like a little gas bubble deep within your womb…and… Holy shit. You couldn’t put it down to anything else. That was your pup. It had to be. Right there below Dean’s shirt, your skin. Your pup. Alive and healthy, heartbeat, and all.

You sat up, shoved the covers off. Your fingers moved from it to grip the faded black cotton and pull it up over your stomach to see it protruding over your mound and heels, tucked in and not quite under your rear. Your bump wasn’t large enough to cover your toes when you stood, but it stuck out further than your boobs, sitting or no. Soft and pudgy, though, depending on the angle, it was firmer like then.

“Hey there.” You smiled. A well of wet forming under your eyes. “You gonna do it again? ‘Cause I need to be sure before I tell your dad,” you whispered.

Was it wrong to poke them? Probably, but it was a little too late to question it.

Your index finger picked up and pushed the pad down close to your navel. Gentle, of course, but hard enough to make a nail shaped dent when you twisted it just right. You, ignoring all the information you’d read that said they couldn’t feel or hear you yet.

The experts knew nothing when your pup had the stock of an alpha as perceptive as Dean. It was the door in front of you that clicked with his head poking out from behind it soon after. His gaze alight in mischief turned to confusion when he saw you, your exposed stomach, and the mess of nesting supplies.

“You know, saying you’re tired is an excuse for sex, right?” He shut the door and ditched his new toy on the table in the corner. “Not setting up the floor is lava for your unsuspecting mate.”

“I was going through stuff for tomorrow,” you said in a huff as he toed off his boots. “Don’t you want to know why all this is hanging out?”

Even though your face was beaming. Dean still scanned the situation with a lick on the edge of his lip. He’d started undoing his belt and fly, but the process stalled as his brain geared up to fight or flight.

“Is this the real trap?” he asked.

“No. I can feel them.”

“Yeah?” His grin returned, and your head jiggled with excitement.

“He kicked?” And when you nodded again, it only grew wider.

“He-they’re moving,” you said, but Dean ignored the correction.

His bow legs darted around the unravelled blanket and the other, still folded with a bow. He then hopped over that cushion you’d decided he’d be sleeping on tonight and flopped onto the mattress next to you, spreading out like a partner in one of those fake family portraits would.

“My man. Something else to tell the doc, huh?” His arm cradled your swell, fitting snug as he leaned over and kissed your exposed skin first. “Hitting all them milestones. Making his momma crazy already?” His brows wagged as he stretched up to kiss you too before you could retort.

He’d had a whiskey. The smoky remnants on his tongue, just another reminder of something you couldn’t have, making you savour it, and him, all the more with a greedy foray of extra nips.

“So.” He indulged you again, keeping the tip of his nose on yours when he pulled back. “What’s it feel like?”

You had to think about that. The flip? The candy popping? The throb? He’d appreciate that.

Your palm slid over his thigh, close enough to his pelvis to bring the point home. “You know when your knot pops and there’s that pulse?”

“When I shoot my load?”

“Yeah. It’s like that, only stronger.”

He huffed. Part snicker. Eyes, half lidded and lecherous, joined the smirk and twitch of his head. “You mean you’re getting an orgasm in your stomach?”

“It’s not pleasurable.” Wait. That wasn’t right, either. Of course, it felt good.

This was your pup.

“I mean, when you feel your blood passing through your veins. I thought you’d get a kick out of the analogy.”

“Oh. I did.” He looked down at your hand still in his lap only to lift again, expression changing the scene as an actor would on stage. “Next question.”

You repeated the phrase.

His chin pointed towards the mess. “What’s with the nest? No offence, sweetheart, but even I could do a better job than that.”

Obviously, it wasn’t one. Half of it wasn’t even out of its packaging and the shape was all wrong. “I told you I was preparing for tomorrow.”

Tags still hung off the corners of the cushions you’d chosen. They’d be scratchy on your skin, let alone the delicate fuzz-lined completion of a newborn, and none of it washed yet. Nothing from a store was going anywhere near your precious pup unless you’d sanitised, then scented it.

“We’re taking all that?”

“No.” It was three blankets and a few more cushions. Didn’t even fill up half of Baby’s usable trunk. There’d been room with the stroller, its attachments, the Nerf guns and the multiple bags of extra foam ammo. “Not even half.”

How much leeway would you have delivering in a hospital? Rooms you’d seen visiting friends and family were probably about the same size as yours here in the bunker. But as much as the Pack Planning clinic tried to make their space warm and inviting for its patients, a clinic was still a clinic, and nothing like home.

The walls that could use a lick of fresh paint. Outdated furniture lining them collected dust you dusted every other day.

Dean’s scent.

Yours.

It was all a charm surrounding you that calmed and soothed like no other. It didn’t take an idiot to know that’s what you’d be needing most when the time came.

“I just want to go in knowing what I have so I can plan for the space,” you said, and Dean swallowed. Nodded.

“Alright.”

He sat up, whipped his phone out of his back pocket and dropped to the floor with a groan and a definite crack from overused bones.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, because him picking up and pointing the camera point blank at the unravelled blanket while obvious, hadn’t computed with your brain. Why hadn’t you thought of that?

“Getting rid of the trip hazard. There’s gonna be enough bumps in the night with Eileen here. Don’t need you makin’ more.”

Wait. “She’s here?” You picked yourself up and knee-walked to the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve gone and—”

“Played host? I’m sure she’ll understand why you were sleeping. You can make up for it in the morning.”

Only you couldn’t, because both she and Sam were MIA when you left for Salina. Lost to the depths of his room. Thank god for Dean. With your mind occupied by your nest and your birthing plan, you weren’t too concerned about your territory.

You talked non stop to avoid all of it. Everything and nothing at the same time on the way. The weather. Potential names, Bobby, John and Henry. Dean even humoured you with girls’ ones like Mary and Charlie, while you avoided your moms on purpose. Thankful he had too when he listed every other female who’d been prominent in your lives. Grateful he didn’t bring up the night before or your need to pee.

Of course you couldn’t. Doctor Cameron needed a full bladder for the anatomy scan, and it was hell.

Well, not the actual one, but you doubted, very much, that he or Dean could hold on for as long as you had. All that pressure in your pelvis, aching like the throes of a heat. If Dean had cracked a joke, you’d have no hope.

Each press of the cool gel into your exposed stomach from the transducer, another jab closer to leakage. No wonder multiple pregnancies drove people with vaginas into incontinence. Your bladder, a punching bag for the doctor and your offspring, could only hold so much — oh shit.

The doc pushed the damn thing into your stomach for the umpteenth time on your left side, where you figured one of your ovaries to be. The blunt head dug into your flesh, firmer on account of the recline of the exam table. Your sensitive skin, wetter where you didn’t want wet to be...

“Have you taken the time to think about your options?” he asked, like he’d done nothing wrong. If it weren’t for his hands occupied by the ultrasound equipment and his keyboard, you’d have considered him bored. It was okay when you were the prodder.

“We’re leaning towards here,” you said. “Presuming there’s time?” Just another thing you wanted to discuss.

How long did it normally take? Movies made most births seem like your water broke and that was it. Pushing, grunting, groaning in your nest with loved ones, or on the way to the hospital, finding yourself stuck in the back of a car in a snowstorm on Christmas Eve.

No in between and never an estimate. No, ‘three hours later,’ or ten or twenty or thirty, and you had no one to ask how it felt or what to expect. Besides Cameron, a beta, presumably with the wrong bits.

Dean gave you a reaffirming nod. He was at full attention, in awe, and on edge. You could sense it in his scent.

He’d squeezed your hand in his. Brought your knuckles up to his lips when he’d heard the sharp exhale on yours with the last poke. “No problem with my Baby, sweetheart,” he said, clearly concerned by the drive itself.

Doctor Cameron nodded too as he typed in another measurement. “So long as things stay low risk and you’re happy to travel the distance.”

“Ah.” Dean cleared his throat. “Low risk?”

The doc lowered his head and looked at him and then at you, “All medical procedures come with risks.”

“Right, but, ah, what’s the risk the risk could be higher?” Dean’s feet shuffled beneath him, and this time it was the doc clearing his throat in response.

The pause didn’t help your nerves. That look in Doctor Cameron’s eye, typical. He chose his words carefully. So either there was a risk or it was unknown because you had little history to go on, and your guess was on the latter.

It had to be. The world just worked that way. It was Murphy’s law or some other guy you’d never heard of and theirs.

You didn’t know how long your mom had laboured with you. You didn’t know if she’d needed stitches or lost any blood. When you were asked to fill out that form at your first antenatal appointment with the doc, you couldn’t list any next of kin besides Dean, which was fine. He was your true mate, and you trusted him with every and all decisions if you were ever… incapacitated.

But it was nothing the doc could go off of now, and he didn’t say it. Not directly, at least. What he did, though, was far more valuable, albeit accidental, leaving you surprised, and Dean insufferable. His grin the widest you’d ever seen it, rosy cheeks of pride contrasting his brilliant green.

“Your mate is in fine health, Dean,” Cameron said. “And so is your son.”

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

And there we are! I was honestly really torn on what to give them, me being a boy mum wanted to live vicariously, but I know little boys too damn well, and it will be easier for me to do some timestamps in the future with the nerf guns this way.

I have a name in mind, but if you have an idea, I'd love to hear it! Just know I plan on avoiding Bobby and John.

Chapter 15 - Disappointment 30/05

“Why’re we getting this stuff again? They’re the ones cooking,” he grumbled as he leant over the cart, pushing it forward to let an elderly beta past.

This position was becoming more and more frequent, and he’d become rather skilled at navigating the metal cages. Gold medal material with the way he turned the damn thing. Whether that was good was still up for debate.

“It’s the least we can do,” you said, examining the mound of onions, a piece of vegetable at a time. Turning them over. Inspecting the flaky skin and differences in the colour underneath it. Weighing each piece with your hands.

“No. The least we can do is eat what they cook. You should be taking a load off.”

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artsy-hobbitses · 15 days ago

Note

Prowl had quite the update in backstory and personality a while ago, mind sharing his evolution proccess?

Honestly the biggest thing was that he never had a solid personality in my early draft of him! He started out as a mirror of IDW Prowl but in all frankness, while I find 2005 IDW Prowl EXTREMELY intriguing, I don't care for him as a person, and I especially do not like how the later writers treated him as the communal hate sink, and how this has ALSO caused some fans to justify the awful things done to him by others in narrative (this part of the reason TTB is a also No-Chromedome territory--people get fucking weird about him versus Prowl).

The thing is however that I LOVE Prowl's IDW background, coming from a place like Petrex where rules were so draconian that questioning your lot in life was grounds to throw you in prison (outside of IDW, I love that the terrible things done there in name of assimilation and order was also delved into in the War for Cybertron series, where unlike IDW Prowl, this Prowl was remorseful and genuinely disturbed by it). Prowl is also ofc a Cold Construct, and how that impacts humans as opposed to Cybertronians is something that is heavily explored in Ties That Bind. To note here, Megatron, Blaster and Starscream are Cold Constructs who were either loved and managed to retain a sense of personhood (Megs), had their true background hidden from them until adulthood (Blaster) or were successful in fighting for some semblance of rights over their own destiny (Starscream). In Prowl, given his history in Petrex, I wanted to explore the logical extreme of a Cold Construct who NEVER had that chance, who had everything taken from him and had almost all semblance of rebellion he can't even remember wrung out of him. Almost everything that makes him a person is functionally destroyed by his government in service of turning him into an asset (Not even the DNA that makes him who he is is sacred, as it was used by Mesothulas to create Springer--he doesn't even have rights to what makes him him), almost everything (he would have been killed for his last act of rebellion if Jazz hadn't saved him in time), but an inch, as mentioned in V for Vendetta: "Every inch of me shall perish. Every inch, but one. An inch. It is small and it is fragile and it is the only thing in the world worth having." And I wanted, despite everything done to him, to make him care. Really care. Even if it's clumsy and stilted, and he himself doesn't understand it but goddamn if he ain't trying. To hold on to that inch. Because is his compassion worth any less than his companions if he has to learn it? Is his concern for his companions any less earnest if he ties it to the good of the unit (because that's what he understands best) before the individual? Is his desire for justice less powerful than his friends' if he ties it to how it's 'wrong' in the order of things as he understands it as opposed to 'I empathise with this person being wronged' (because he doesn't KNOW HOW TO DO THAT)? Is who he is, broken and shattered on the inside in places where he isn't outright empty, worth saving? Jazz certainly thought he was! And I suppose that's also tied to parts of my simultaneous dislike and intrigue of his IDW version: What is someone got him? (because he HAS A POINT. A LOT OF THE TIME. 'Good' IDW Autobots mostly run on 'Maverick' mode even if it's stupid or makes no sense) What if someone tried to understand where he was coming from (he is STILL trying to do good albeit in terrible ways because that's what he's taught) instead of seeing him as an aberration (MORE SO than the Cons sometimes which is insane) for something he cannot help as a living state asset, and a constant lost cause for a personality and an outlook molded by one of the worst regimes on Cybertron (because Functionism was awful as it was, but it seemed PARTICULARLY awful in Petrex)? Because I see him as deserving of a satisfying narrative of figuring out who he is away from everything he was molded to become, and a redemption arc way more than say, WarCrimes McGee Megatron, and I happen to LIKE IDW Megatron. So in TTB he gets that! All the AWFUL things that comes with being a flesh tool with barcode imprinted on him, and the messy things that comes with breaking away from that and trying to figure out how to fucking person, and all the love that comes from a community that see the work he's putting in, and see that inch he's holding on to, and are helping him hold on to it when his grip on it loosens.

I just think it's the kind of evolution and story that he deserves!

#inbox #prowl #long post #I'm sorry not sorry it's gush on blorbo hours #This hot mess is brought to you by Gunslinger Girls and The Promised Neverland #ties that bind #ttb #save for later

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wchswift · 3 months ago

Note

꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ 18-C

꒰ 18 ꒱ “it’s just one night- surely sharing a bed for that long won’t kill us.” ꒰ C ꒱ ecstasy ꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ a skeevy motel just off the highway

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: you and dean are hit by a curse during a hunt and now you're in a motel with only one bed and pining for each other thanks to a witch.

word count: 1k

notes: hii, tysm for sending it :) Since you didn't specify which character and didn't send me another ask saying which one, I wrote this with dean. hope you and everyone else likes it <3

build a fic

"Alright, sweetheart," Dean mutters, glancing your way. "You see anything that screams witchy?"

You roll your eyes but scan the area. The graveyard is overgrown, vines snaking around tombstones, crickets humming in the silence. But there's something off. The air feels charged, humming just beneath the surface.

Then you spot it—a circle of blackened candles, wax dripping into the dirt. A set of bones, arranged carefully. A hex bag lying in the center.

Bingo.

"Dean," you call, motioning toward it. He strides up beside you, his jaw clenching.

"Well, that ain't good."

"No kidding," you murmur. "Looks like the witch was in the middle of something before we interrupted."

Dean wastes no time. He kicks over the candles, grabs the hex bag, and tosses it onto the flames of his lighter. The second the fire catches, the air shifts.

A cold gust rushes through the cemetery, howling between the trees. The sensation is instant—something sinks into you, wrapping around your chest, curling through your veins. Your breath hitches. Your knees nearly buckle.

Dean staggers beside you, his hand flying out to grip your arm. "You feel that?" His voice is rough, strained.

You nod, swallowing hard. Your skin is buzzing, burning with something you can’t explain. An ecstasy, an excitement just from being close to him. The fire crackles as the hex bag turns to ash, but the feeling doesn’t leave. If anything, it intensifies.

Dean curses under his breath, shaking his head like he’s trying to clear it. "Damn witch must’ve hit us with something before she went down."

You don’t answer. Because suddenly, you’re too aware of him. Of the warmth of his hand still on your arm, of the way his chest rises and falls a little too fast. Of the scent of leather and gunpowder clinging to his jacket.

You take a shaky step back, and it feels wrong. Like stepping away is a mistake.

Dean notices it too. His jaw tightens. "We need to get the hell outta here."

The ride to the skeevy motel isn't that long. But it feels like an eternity.

The neon sign flickers overhead, buzzing like a dying wasp. It's a cheap, run-down motel, but the only place within twenty miles that isn’t the backseat of the Impala.

Dean slaps cash onto the counter without even waiting for pleasantries. The old man behind the desk barely looks up as he hands over a key.

Room 12.

You make it inside before the weight of the night crashes over you. The walls are yellowed with time, the carpet worn down to its last thread. The air smells like stale beer and cigarette smoke, with a hint of something moldy underneath.

But none of that matters.

Because the second the door clicks shut, the heat returns. Stronger.

Dean is standing too close. Or maybe you’re the one leaning toward him. It’s hard to tell.

He rubs a hand down his face. "Damn heat's broken in here too?"

You shake your head, pressing a palm to your chest, feeling the way your heart slams against your ribs. "It's not the heat, Dean."

The realization dawns in his eyes. A slow, dawning horror mixed with something else—something darker, something unspoken.

"Son of a bitch," he mutters. "It’s the fucking curse."

Your breath is coming too fast. Your skin needs something, but you don’t know what. When you take a step back, it feels like a mistake—like moving away from him is stripping away something vital.

And the worst part?

Dean feels it too.

You can see it in the clench of his jaw, the way his hands twitch at his sides. Like he’s fighting it. Like he’s holding himself back from doing something reckless.

"We just need to ride it out," he says, voice rough. "Figure out how to break it in the morning."

He moves toward the bed, and your stomach sinks. One bed. Of course.

Dean notices it at the same time you do. His mouth tugs into something that might be a smirk if it weren’t so damn tense.

"It’s just one night," he says, but there’s something strained in the way he says it. "Surely sharing a bed for that long won’t kill us."

Won’t kill us, you think. But it might damn well ruin you.

Still, you force yourself forward, kicking off your boots, pulling back the covers like it’s nothing. Like you don’t feel like your whole body is going to shake apart.

Dean does the same. Lying on his back, arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling.

Neither of you speaks.

The air is thick with something heavy, electric. You can hear his breathing, slightly uneven. Feel the heat radiating off his skin.

Minutes pass. Maybe hours. Your body refuses to settle. Every nerve feels like it's on fire.

You turn your head to look at him, and he's already looking at you.

"Dean," you whisper.

And then the ecstasy feeling is back again, and Dean doesn't wait another moment before he acts.

He's moving before you can think, rolling onto his side, his mouth crashing against yours in a kiss that steals the air from your lungs.

It's desperate. Starved. Like he's been waiting for this, like he needs it as much as you do. His hands slide over your hips, tugging you closer, and you melt into him, fingers tangling in his shirt, anchoring yourself against the heat of his body.

The curse burns through your veins, but this—this—feels real.

Dean breaks away, forehead pressed against yours, breathing heavy. "Shit," he murmurs. His voice is wrecked, raw.

You swallow hard. "I—"

"Don't," he cuts in, shaking his head. His thumb brushes over your jaw, something aching in his gaze. "We'll figure this out tomorrow."

His lips graze yours again, slower this time. Like he’s memorizing it.

Tomorrow.

But tonight, neither of you move away.

(I didn't really like my writing on this one but I hope it's good enough lol)

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

taglist (some special moots tagged too): @lyarr24 @blossomingorchids @bettystonewell @rositaslabyrinth @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @freeluigihesbae @soldiersgirl @maddie0101 (if you want to be removed or added let me know <3)

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#dean winchester #dean supernatural #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester x fem reader #jensen ackles #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean winchester drabble #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester 🪽#dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

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talaok · 2 years ago

Text

The mission

Pairing: Joel miller x reader

Summary: Joel is the boss of a group of criminals in the QZ, and you're his little bunny everyone knows better than to look at, and this time, you wanna help him on a mission.

warnings: smut| the tiniest smudge of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, exhibitionism (yes again. dont look at me) and of course daddy kink

this is the fourth part to this but it can be read alone

"you want to what!?"

"I wanna help" you repeated, leaning back on his desk so you were right in front of where he was sitting.

"no"

"but-"

"absolutely not" he shook his head, not even listening to what you had to say.

You raised an eyebrow, getting ready to stand your ground.

"You need me" you said, making him look up at you, a mix of anxiety and frustration fogging his eyes.

"How would you even know?"

"David told me what you're planning to do"

You watched his fingers grip the edge of his chair to try and relieve some anger.

Fucking David. He was gonna have to teach him a lesson later.

"Still. We don't need you"

You huffed, crossing your arms,

"You need someone to distract the guard"

His eyes shut for a moment as he shrugged

"I've got plenty of men who can do that"

A smug smirk tugged at your lips at his words "And that's exactly the problem"

You watched his brow arch in puzzlement

"You've got men" you explained "But what you need is a woman"

A chuckle fled his lips at your feeble attempt at convincing him "A man can distract a guard just fine, sweetheart"

"Yes" you agreed "But I could do it much better"

He leaned back in his chair, watching you closely.

"you could" he conceded "but not only would you distract the guard, but all my men. Me included"

You had to roll your eyes at that.

That must have been the worst excuse you'd ever heard

"You know I would be good at it" you continued

"I know you would, baby, but you know I can't let you do that" he said, gentler now as his hand reached for your waist to draw slow patterns on it "You're too important, I can't let anything happen to you"

"but nothing has to happen to me, I just gotta distract a guard"

"it's still dangerous" he shook his head, "You've gotta understand baby, I-"

"please" you pouted, looking down at him with the best doe eyes you could muster

"bunny, I can't-"

That hadn't worked, so you had to retort to the only method you knew was fool-proof.

"please" you murmured again, placing your hands on his shoulder as you straddled his lap.

"please Daddy, just this once" you whispered, gently kissing his cheek before making your way to his neck.

"bunny..." he groaned, as his hands betrayed him and reached for your waist "I know what you're doing"

"'m not doing anything" you lied, going as far as grinding your core against his crotch while you kissed him right below his ear "I promise I'll be good"

"fuck- baby this ain't fair" he groaned again, his cock hardening in his jeans

"please daddy" you whimpered, passing a hand through his hair in that way you knew he loved "I'll do whatever you tell me to do" you promised "I'll follow all your instructions" The way your hot breath tickled his skin made him want to forget about everything and just take you right there and them "I'll be real good for you daddy"

And that was it.

He was 100% aware of having just been manipulated, but fuck- if you asked him with that sweet voice of yours, he would have agreed to jump off a cliff without a second thought.

"fuck me- fine" he sighed, inhaling your heavenly scent, as his fingers started already infiltrating underneath your top "But you're gonna do everythin' I tell you to do, ok? I don't wanna hear a single complaint"

Your grin resembled one of a child in a candy store

"yes daddy"

"and I know you don't like 'em but I'm givin' you a gun" he spoke, his attention not on your eyes but on your tits as he groped them underneath the fabric "we'll go over the basics again later" he spoke, before his gaze found yours, suddenly serious.

"and bunny, if anything goes wrong... if even one thing isn't how it's supposed to be, you run." he said "You get the fuck out of there, I don't care if it gets me and all my men killed. You save yourself first, we clear?"

You had to bite down the huge grin spreading on your face to try and at least look like you weren't jumping out of your skin in the excitement.

"Yes daddy" you nodded

"good" he murmured "Now c'mere you fuckin' smartass"

__ __ __

Joel had prepared you for the mission like you were about to go to war, you don't think he'd ever gone that long talking to you without touching some part of your body, and yet he'd spent a whole hour explaining to you what was gonna happen, and how everything was gonna proceed and most importantly, how no matter what, you had to "save yourself first"

But it was dumb really, your job was to do what you'd learned to do since you hit puberty: flirting with men to get what you want.

There's not a lot of ways a girl can survive on her own in a post-apocalyptic world, so the moment you understood the power you and your body held, you started using it to your advantage.

Which is why your task was a walk in the park.

The guard had forgotten all about what he was paid to do, which was paying attention to the security footage, from the moment you walked in, and all you needed to do was to put on a small little skirt and smile at everything he said.

There's only one thing men like more than a woman: a woman in distress.

Which is why you had made up this whole story about being new to the QZ and having gotten lost.

But hey thankfully, you'd stumbled upon this Fedra building and found "such a handsome, smart-looking man" that was more than eager to help you.

Joel and his crew had all the time in the world to steal whatever it was they were stealing, all the while you had fun.

You hadn't felt this ecstatic in years

You were basically skipping as you walked out of the building.

"there you are" you watched Joel breathe a sigh of relief as you walked over to where he was leaning on a black car "you got me scared for a moment bunny"

You frowned, peeking at the watch he'd insisted you wore.

"I was only one minute late"

He shook his head, grabbing your waist with both his hands to force you flush against him "and it was enough" he murmured, ignoring the fact that his whole crew was standing right beside you, and leaning in to kiss you as if he hadn't seen you for days.

You melted right into him, softly whimpering in his mouth when one of his hands traveled lower to grab one of your asscheeks.

You grinned widely as he leaned away, and he couldn't help but smile too watching that look on your face.

"get inside the car" he murmured, leaving another quick kiss on your lips before getting out of the way to open the door for you.

Surprisingly, he wasn't driving this time.

Just as you bent down to get inside, you heard him bark behind you at someone to his right "The fuck are you looking at?"

"N-nothing boss, I'm sorry"

Joel didn't answer, he only removed his hand from where he held his gun and got inside the car with you, shutting the door behind him.

You watched through the windshield, as the poor guy put a hand on his chest, probably checking if it was still beating.

"you scared him" you half scolded, half cooed as you wasted no time scooting closer to him

A soft smirk pulled at his lips as his thumb reached for your cheek to stroke it

"what a shame" he murmured, kissing you.

As the kiss heated, his tongue infiltrating into your mouth as you moaned into his, you felt his hands take hold of your waist to guide you on top of him, and you gladly complied.

"hey there" you smiled

"hey b-"

An awkward cough made its way to both his ears

"Should I... give you some space?" the guy at the wheel asked.

Funny, you hadn't even noticed he was there.

"who's gonna drive the car if you do that?" Joel huffed a laugh

"I just though-"

"start driving" Joel interrupted, already focused on you again "and keep your eyes on the road"

"yes boss"

And just like that, the car was moving.

"You don't mind Pike being here do you bunny? he's very discreet"

"I don't mind daddy" you murmured, not resisting anymore as you latched your mouth to that irresistible neck of his.

Just like every time you were in his arms, his scent and warmth wrapped around you like magic.

"good" he smiled, losing himself in your touch for a moment before he remembered something.

"What was the guy's name bunny?"

"mh?" you frowned, looking up at him confused.

"the guard, darlin', what was his name?"

You arched a brow as your left hand went to his hair as you inspected his face.

"why?" you asked suspiciously

"I'll need to take care of him"

"Daddy he didn't do anything wrong" you whispered, trying to reason with him.

"he looked at you didn't he?"

you couldn't help but roll your eyes "he needed to look at me to be able to talk to me"

"yeah but I'm sure he was doing a lot more than talking in that brain of his"

"daddy" you murmured, as your index finger traced his jaw "you can't kill every guy I come across on every mission "

"every mission? who said this is happening again?" he tilted his head, a soft amusement shining in his eyes

"I did"

"oh bunny," he smiled as he shook his head" this was a one-time thing"

But you both knew it really wasn't up to him.

Yes, he was his crew's boss, but you were the boss's boss.

"we'll see" You shut him up, crashing your mouth with his in a frenzy of clashing teeth and tongues.

The mission had gotten you so worked up you'd been wet since he first kissed you.

You couldn't help but grind on him to relieve some of the tension that had created between your thighs, before losing your patience and just deciding to get to the real thing.

He was groping your ass with one hand while the other busied itself with your tits when your left hand sneaked down his torso to find that hard tent straining from his jeans.

"Actually..." he breathed, as you undid his belt as quickly as you could "If this is what you going on missions gets me, I think I might have to take back what I said "

You let out a small giggle at that, "I thought you might say that"

He smiled too, but his mouth was back on yours as quickly as it had parted, tasting all that you would give him.

You made quick work of his zipper, and eagerly freed his cock from his boxers, making him groan loudly.

"fuck bunny" he breathed, glancing down to where you were stroking his cock with those heavenly soft hands of yours.

The fact that Pike was not even two meters away from you wasn't remotely crossing your minds.

You mimicked him and looked down at his manhood, and god it looked so delicious, but as much as you wanted a taste there wasn't really that much space for maneuver in the back of this car, and to be completely honest there was also the fact that your pussy had been screaming for any type of attention for some time now so-

"spit"

You hadn't even realized his hand was in front of your mouth, but the moment you did, you complied.

You watched as that same now spit-filled hand made its way underneath your skirt and panties in no time.

He slathered the liquid all around your folds, making you squirm uncontrollably, before, without any type of warning, plunging two of his thick fingers deep inside your heat.

"daddy!"

"she's ready" he decided, continuing to watch you as you slowly raised yourself to sink down on his cock.

"o-oh my god" you whimpered as your head fell to the crook of his neck.

He was stretching you so good... and god, but he was so deep

"fuck baby" he groaned, both his hands now on your ass to squeeze it however he pleased, "feel fucking perfect"

You softly smiled at that, kissing up his neck as you started moving with the help of his hands, which guided your movements a bit.

"I was good wasn't I?" you whispered onto his pulse point, before gently sucking on it

"the best" he promised, groaning a bit as you fastened your pace "my precious little bunny" he praised into your ear "always such a good girl"

The sound that was spreading around the car was filthy, but all either of you could think about was the other.

Your fingers were grabbing at the hair at the nape of his neck, while your other hand was grasping his shoulder for dear life as you bounced up and down on his cock.

"jesus you're so tight sugar" he groaned as you bit down on a spot on his neck "So perfect" he continued, watching you pleasure yourself on his dick "So beautiful"

Your clit was grinding against his crotch and it was only making you reach your climax faster

"and so fucking smart" he murmured "You're amazing bunny, you really are"

what before were soft breathy moans whispered in his ear, had now quickly evolved to higher and louder cries that were making poor Pike want to die.

"f-fuck daddy" you whimpered, leaning your forehead onto his to look at him in the eyes

"you coming bunny?"

"mh-mh" was all you could muster

"yeah? then come for me baby" he ordered "Come around my cock"

And just like that, You did, you came, screaming his name at the top of your lungs as your movements got more and more sloppy

"Thank you daddy" was the only coherent sentence that came out of your mouth as your orgasm took over your body

"Whatever you want bunny" he promised, watching mesmerized as you came apart before him "fuck-whatever you want, you know that"

And you did know that, because as he'd proven times and times again, for you, there wasn't one thing he wouldn't do.

if you wanna read more of Bunny and Joel → here

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