#and either she didn't like not coming out too

[tiramissyoucake]

Escape attempt gone wrong (not clickbait)(my husband gets pissed?!?!)

Viltrumite Mark x fem reader, forced marriage, the whole shabang, I know nothing about Viltrum♡ word vomitted, lame fade to black scene because idk how to end this

You see a few ships zip by your windows on some days, you know they don't need ships, so a lot of them were dormant in landing zones.

"What're you thinking about?" Your husband's hands snaked onto your shoulders as his voice reached your ear, a small smile on his face.

"... nothing, I'm just wondering why you have ships since Viltrumites can fly." You noted, Mark hummed. "... honestly? I can't tell you either, maybe it's for longer journeys or cargo." He kissed your cheek gently. "Why? Planning to take one on a joy ride?"

The idea was tempting. "Don't be ridiculous," you scoffed. "I can't fly those."

Later that night, a formal meeting between a few powerful Viltrumites you didn't care about busied Mark and a majority of your guards have turned in for the night, you were left to your own devices in a big bedroom stockpiled with gifts from every corner of the galaxy.

You tossed and turned, sleeping early didn't help. You were restless, you've been restless since you've been demanded to remain in one building and one building only. It infuriated you, your supposed husband most likely saw you as a reward for decimating a planet and not a living being with autonomy.

You sat up, glancing aside to the empty space next to you. He had some nerve, locking you up then leaving to play emperor like this, anywhere else in the galaxy would be better now.

... 'anywhere else' wasn't impossible.

. . .

"You need to mind your manners," Nolan scolded as Mark left the room the 'conference' was held in. "I know you're doing a good job in power, but that doesn't mean you can disrespect your seniors."

"I don't respect those who don't respect me." Mark spoke, his tone grated through gritted teeth. "All I want to do is get this stupid cape off me and see my wife."

Nolan restrained an eye roll, the human pet. "You're too attached to that human, what do you see in her anyway?"

"Everything. She's kind, interesting, she sees me beyond my strength, it's like..." he let out a sigh, holding back a shiver from showing, the sigh almost sounded lovesick. "It's like she sees right through me to my core, sees me for who I am, not what I am."

Gag. His father ignored the romance ramble. "You'll learn to see her as a tool for the good of the empire."

Mark rolled his eyes, parting ways at a hallway. "I'm going to bed, I neglected her enough." He didn't wait for a 'goodnight' or any last comments from his father as he left.

The grand doors to the bedroom creaked open, nothing changed. Your body under the sheets, gifts untouched and floors clean, he let out a sigh of relief as he threw aside the cape, loosening the collar of his clothes. "Are you awake?" His voice was soft compared to the usual commanding tone. "I missed you, dear.."

He came to his side of the bed. "I've been waiting to—"

Pillows. Not your peaceful sleeping figure. A stack of pillows. Confusion flooded his head as he got up.

"... oh, oh! Haha! very funny, love." He looked around. "You can come out now!" He waited for a beat, eyes glancing around for any movement.

None, nothing, not even a shuffle. Panic tingled at his fingertips, as he tugged the sheets off the bed, rapidly looking under the bed his eyes darted around the room. His heart raced, looking in any and every compartment that you could possibly squeeze into.

The room grew into a mess but he couldn't care less, sweat coated his forehead from the frenzy of pure panic. "You're not here." He finally admitted to himself, his heart pounding.

Silently cursing the meeting in his head, he sped off to collect whoever he can from guards or staff to form a search party, you couldn't have gone far. Humans were weak, vulnerable, he'll find you. He'll find you. He'll find you.

. . .

You held the cloak you found in the back of the closet close to your chest, you didn't know if Viltrumites recognised you but you wouldn't risk it, but your feet hurt as you ran through the unfamiliar structures.

The hallways were empty, the doors were loose. It was a miracle. You got a chance to leave this nightmare of a marriage, you had no clear idea on where you'd be headed, but you heard stories of galaxy nomads and travellers making ends meet and surviving! You're a smart person, you've got common sense. How hard could it be..?

The landing zone. You just needed to get to the landing zone.

A gasp escaped you, you heard a few barks of commands. "Spread out! She couldn't have gone far!"

You needed to get to that landing zone.

Keep low, keep hidden. You repeated that in your head as you ran, you thought you'd never get there or that you may have gotten lost, then the landing zone came into view, you saw a few ships and suddenly, hope seemed within your reach.

The search party seemed too focused on the buildings and structures, you thanked whatever architect decided to put that place outside of populated areas, the shouting dwindled, turning more distant as you got closer.

You tossed the hood off seeing a few Viltrumites guarding a gate, spotting you as you closed in, they grew confused. "Your imperial majesty? What happ—"

"Open the gates!!" For the first time, you commanded them. "Open them, now!!"

They had no choice but to listen, the gates opened and your heart almost pounded out of your chest. The ships lined up and their states were clear, maintenence, maintenence, offline, maintenence, offline, reserved, offline, reserved.

Finally, 'Ready'.

You could hear the shouting return, but you didn't care, the ship took you in so easily and you could see a new life for yourself outside of this miserable planet, now you just need to learn how to get the controls to listen to you.

It was quiet inside the ship, save for the rapid button clicking and switch flicking from you, everything was coming to life in the ship's mechanics, you held onto the yoke of the ship as you saw the landscape shift, it would levitate off the ground soon.

. . .

He saw it in the distance, hovering high over the empire he saw a ship start to levitate, he knew about every ship, item and living being that entered and left Viltrum.

"No. No. Nononono." His body moved, launching him to the landing zone area with his fists clenched ready to tear through metal.

Mark mumbled to himself as he closed the distance quickly, angered at your audacity to try to escape him.

. . .

Freedom was on the horizon, you were out of here, out of this nightmare. Your hands readjusted repeatedly on the yolk as the ship moved.

A booming sound caused you to whip your head to the back of the ship, your heart dropped seeing an indent in the metal.

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" You never heard Mark's voice reach that level of volume, the pounding continued. "COME OUT!"

You stood your ground, even as the fear of what he might do if he gets you caused your hands to tremble and your heart to race quickly, you repeatedly tapped a few buttons, didn't this stupid ship have thrusters or whatever?!

An alarm blared, one meant to let a pilot know the ship wouldn't listen, you had a feeling it had to do with more rumbling from below, curse his monstrous strength, you heard a piercing noise, followed by a grating, screeching noise. He was peeling the metal with his bare hands.

"You'd rather DIE in the cold of the galaxy? You despise me to THAT extent?!" He screeched at the top of his lungs, the ship sparking after he destroyed its engine from the outside and it's structure being torn apart.

Your hands rapidly tried to find any button that could reverse or override the damage. "Please," you mumbled as if the ship could hear you. "Please work, please! I can't stay here..!"

"(NAME)!! TURN THIS SHIP OFF!! NOW!!"

His yelling scared you, you gripped a lever and before you knew it, a flury of sparks flew from the control panel, so powerful it almost knocked you out, but the ship being pummeled back to the ground beat the sparks to it, the tilt of the ship causing you to fall out the pilot's chair and hit your head on the way down to the ship's floor.

Your head hurts, your heart hurts, are you going to die on this ship? You didn't want to succumb to the pounding in your head, you were scared you'd wake up chained or worse. A burning sensation collected at the point of impact on your head.

The ship was useless now, Mark made sure of it, the engine being destroyed in an instant, tugging the metal back until there was enough of an opening for him to slip through, he bent his head down to enter the ship. its lights flickering off, he looked up with a piercing glare, a scowl on his lips and eyebrows furrowed, his knuckles were reddened from the sheer force of his strikes against the metal.

It was quiet for a moment as he watched the consciousness slip away from you, his footsteps that approached you quiet compared to the powerful banging of his fists from seconds ago.

"You've got some nerve." He started, a look of anger, sadness, frustration and heartbreak in his eyes. "You think it's that easy, don't you?"

Black spots formed in your vision, your expression was one he couldn't dissect, it pissed him off more, and he knew he'd still take care of that bump on your head after bringing you back home.

It doesn't matter, he'd indulge in his win for now and seethe about the insolence after. And right when he thought you were becoming more obedient too.

"I'm not letting you go." Mark stated to make the situation clear to your fuzzy state of mind, "Not now. Not ever. I'll make sure of it."

[lunarxcity]

Why you? (Part IV to Why me?)

azriel x rhys' sister! reader

angst/eventual comfort (Now Azriel is in his healing era, don't worry he does suffer in this chapter so prepare for the azriel angst. You can't be in a healthy relationship when you are mentally at your worst and lashing out at everyone around you and Azriel is learning this the hard way.)

Summary: When you walk in on Azriel and Elain the mating bond snaps leading you to flee to Autumn with Eris so you can be free of Azriel. Your absence causes Azriel to come to some drastic realisations, but is it already too late and has your time in Autumn led to you moving on?

Parts I, II, and III if you missed them!

-

They say that misery breeds loneliness, or was it misery likes company, either way Azriel couldn't remember how it went but he knew he felt miserable and alone.

You were gone and Rhys had banned him from seeing Elain, even though it didn't matter. He couldn't even look at her without feeling crushing guilt. Guilt for considering killing your friend for the sole reason of him wanting to fight for his mate, which any honorable fae male would have done. Guilt for possibly driving you out from the Night Court. Guilt for dragging Elain into this and then ignoring her.

To say that Azriel has been a mess would be an understatement. After needing to sleep in your bed to calm himself down the night you left, he hasn't had a decent night's sleep. At this point, his dark circles had dark circles, he hadn't shaved, and he has basically been on autopilot for the past 3 months.

Him and Rhys hadn't been on good terms for the first month, but he came around and apologised for the way he spoke to him. They were civil, but Azriel didn't know how he could be close with him again after what he said. If you were there you would have played the peacekeeper, telling him what to say and scolding Rhys for his lack of sensitivity. He thinks about you more than he would care to admit, which is saying something because he's been admitting it a lot lately.

The first 2 weeks were so rough for Azriel that he threw himself into his work, not talking to anyone and even missing his training which he can't recall having ever done. He walked into the training ring and first thing Cassian did when he saw him for the first time since the night you left was laugh and say, "Oh brother, you look a bit rough for wear. You have obviously had better days."

Azriel didn't say anything. His face was set in the same straight-faced look that he had been wearing every day. He just walked up to Cassian and began fighting him. You would think that missing 2 weeks of training out of the hundreds of years wouldn't make a difference, but he had lost every single sparring match between him and Cassian. You would have loved to see it, you probably would have been on the sidelines laughing saying that Azriel needed to be humbled with his snowball fight record. His thoughts strayed to you and he was immediately snapped out of it by Cassian landing a blow on his right jaw sending Azriel to the ground."

"You seem distracted brother. I am always here if you want to talk." He holds his hand out as a truce, but Azriel doesn't take it. He was upset and in pain and feeling a flurry of emotions that he didn't know how to deal with. He picked himself up and told Cassian, "I appreciate it brother, but I don't need you or Nesta or Rhys trying to fix me." Granted he realised he was being a bit dramatic, but his adrenaline was high and didn't know how to deal with what he was feeling, let alone what he was feeling.

Azriel turns his back on Cassian, beginning to storm off from the training ring. "You think she would want you to suffer in Silence? To keep hurting everyone else because you're trying to outrun your problems? " Azriel stilled. "If she cared enough, she wouldn't have left. Why should I care about myself when she is so repulsed by me that she would prefer an enemy of the Night Court's company over mine?" His voice was ice that sending shivers down Cassians spine, this was the feared Spymaster of the Night Court speaking, not his brother.

"For someone who's job it is to collect information, you truly do not know anything." Cassian shook his head and took off into the sky before Azriel could say anything.

Great now that's two of his brother's that he's not on great terms with. Things with Cassian continued to be tense and since he was also on Rocky grounds with Rhys, things had become a bit awkward with Feyre and Nesta. Yes they were polite and would invite him to things and he would still have his weekly coffee with Nesta, but things were a lot more tense since they couldn't even bring up their mates.

No one in the inner circle would bring you up, not to Azriel at least. He knew they talked about you and Azriel, both in friendly hangouts he wasn't invited to and the family dinners that he had been dodging. He knew that they probably had a lot to say when the insomnia had gotten so bad that he needed to take residence in your room. He doesn't know the exact details because the shadows have been withholding information from him too. Just what he needed another person who had an issue with him, this one actually being part of him.

At this point he was on the best terms with Amren which actually started an unlikely friendship. He must have looked so pathetic for Amren to invite him over for tea. It started with talks of the prison, which then led to the inner circle, which then led to inner workings of the Night Court. Tea with Amren became a normal ordeal, she didn't treat him differently and was the same blunt Amren she's always been. It was a good distraction.

He wore the gloves you had gifted him regularly, even if his hands weren't bothering him, he liked the sense of comfort he felt when he wore them. He still felt a mix of emotions when he thinks about your departure, he's angry with you for leaving him here like this, sad because he feels like you have given up on him, and most of all feeling like he's an idiot because all he wants is for you to come home. To come back to him.

Rhys had assigned him on his first mission, a recon mission in the Dawn Court. Azriel had begged to go to the Autumn Court, to at least check on you and make sure you're okay, but Rhys immediately shut him down every time. It's a two week long mission and he was ready to go. The blade you gave him for Solstice had been left in your desk, since Azriel moved to your room. It was too special to him to risk damaging it, so he left it there but he feels like he wouldn't be doing your gift justice if he didn't wear it on his mission.

At this point it had been about 6 weeks without you. He took the blade from the sheath you had also had made for him and inspected it. The silver metal shone in the sunlight, and the blade was the thinnest and sharpest he had ever seen. Outside the silver edge of the blade there was a clear outlining that went all the way around the edges of the blade. He assumed this was the blood bind, so Azriel took the blade and sliced his left hand. The blood weld and the blade absorbed it, the clear lining turned red with blood and once it had decided that was enough blood spilled to activate the blood bond, the red turned into a shimmering black.

Azriel admired and then sheathed the blade. He turned and looked at himself in the mirror and almost jumped at the sight. He truly did look terrible, the beauty of the blade you had crafted for him a contrast over his current ragged state. Your blade. That you had made for him.

Azriel knew he hadn't been the greatest friend lately. He skipped the things you guys would usually do to try and get to know Elain better, his reasoning being you guys have already spent so much time together and would have so much more. He wishes he could go back in time and deck himself for even thinking that. He misses your coffee runs. He misses pranking Rhys with you. He misses laughing with you at Cassian being well Cassian. He misses your laugh.

He doesn't even need you there, he would take whatever small part of you he can and would happily thank the Mother for even allowing him that small respite. He's coming to realise that in the midst of his cruel and miserable existence, you had been the one ray of light in his life and that when the Mother decides that it's his time and he's nothing more than stardust scattered across the universe or the Mother decides to take her revenge for the sins he's committed in this life that it's the sound of your laugh that would carry him away. If the Mother was good she would allow him the luxury of scattering you with him, but ashes are plentiful and he only needs a single ember.

In the silence of your room, haunted by the ghost of your absence Azriel breaks. Tears stream down his face for the second time in this very spot and realizes that something needs to change, that he needs to change.

When Azriel returns from his mission, he knocks on Cassian's door. Cassian opens the door, his face is straight and devoid of his usual smile. "Are you finally ready to talk or am I going to have to kick your ass again and watch you storm off and brood some more." Azriel begins to feel shy, it is not a feeling that is common to him nor one he likes. This was already very hard for him, but he also forgot that Cassian was Cassian and he wouldn't allow him to walk in like nothing happened. Azriel knods and looks at Cassian with determination in his eyes, "I'm ready." Cassian matches his seriousness and then breaks down in laughter and brings Azriel into a bone-crushing hug. "I'VE MISSED YOU BROTHER." Azriel normally would have tried to get out of it, but he needed this.

Azriel sat down and told Cassian his problems. All of them. They started mid-day and didn't end until passed out after sunrise. He told him about feeling worthless and left out. He told him about you and how he doesn't know what he did or how to fix it but does know he's going insane like this. He talked about Rhys and how that whole situation had really affected him, Cassian had no idea and was so upset that he left for an hour or two and came back bloodied. 15 minutes later Nesta came in and brought him bandages and ice while telling him good job for putting Rhys in his place.

This became regular for Azriel. Him and Cassian would talk out all his problems one by one and he would actually try to do something to fix them. Cassian talked with Madja, and Azriel was now seeing her regularly as she claimed that "illnesses of the mind must be given the same level of attention as illnesses of the body." He started showing up to family dinners again. He apologised to Elain and told her that he couldn't go on with what they were doing because he wasn't in a place for anything right now and could barely deal with himself. She understood and was happy he was finally getting the help he needed. He told her not to wait for him and that it would be better for them to remain friends and she agreed.

Azriel began doing things for himself. He went to your guys' favourite bakery on the regular. He started reading all the books you had left on your shelf. He even started playing piano again, a hobby he had long forgotten, but only remembered because found his old compositions stuffed in a book on your shelf. He had no clue how you got them, he thought they were all thrown away, but nonetheless he was glad to have them.

Things were looking up for Azriel. The only thing bothering him was that he still didn't have you here or know why you left. No one would tell him anything and they would all shut down around him when you were brought up. Conversations would quiet, and topics would be changed. This confirmed the suspicion he had from the beginning, the reason you left was directly concerned with him.

While he was getting better, Azriel did have his ups and downs. His biggest down was the realisation that you had been writing to every single person except for him and Elain. The shadows had finally decided to start talking to him again and the first thing they had told him is that they caught your scent in the house. He flew like a madman from the other side of Velaris, getting there in record time. He searched for your scent, desperate to see you, when he found a handful of envelopes, all with your name and scrawl. The ink was a dark red and the lines were too thin to be from any of your writing tools. You must be using Eris' then.

This bothered Azriel so much he almost forgot the reason why he was holding these letters. He looked at who they were addressed to and saw every single Inner Circle member had received a letter but him and Elain. He put the letters back on the desk and waited to see if anyone would bring them up. Nothing. His shadows began to update him of their arrivals. You had been regularly corresponding with them and not him. Azriel was crushed.

Nevertheless, he continued with his routine. He saw Madja regularly, became close with his family again, and began to actually do things for himself. The process was difficult and so incredibly hard, especially for someone who had been bottling things up for as long as he had.

He's even been visiting his estate lately to see his mother, as she lives on his property. He avoids her when he isn't doing well, she's been exposed to many cruelties over the span of her long life she doesn't need to deal with more. Talking with his mother has really helped. Her warm smile could brighten any day. He's missed her lately. He has a bad habit of putting the ones that he cares the most about on the back burner, but he's working on it.

It's been 3 months since you left and Azriel is finally feeling better. He was at his weekly session with Madja. It was going really well actually, well it was going really well until she causally says, "And how do you feel about a certain princess' return to the Night Court?" She asked almost sounding like a child teasing their friend in front of their crush. Azriel didn't even pick up on it. His shadows stilled and his eyes went wide. You were coming back? Back to the Night Court? Back to him?

Madja looks at him confused. She tilts her head, "You didn't know?" He shakes his head no. He lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding and goes, "No I had no idea. I'm still the only one she hasn't spoken to." His tone bitter, but he caught himself and asked, "When is she getting back?" He hopes she'll just forget about his mini outburst just a second ago.

Madja looks surprised and Azriel is even more surprised at her confusion. She has sat here for the past few weeks hearing about him complain about your lack of communication with him, shouldn't she know that he knows nothing of this?

Madja goes, "You do know you have little shadow spies that listen in to all of your conversations?" Good to see that age hasn't dulled her sense of humour. How did he forget about that? Azriel shakes his head and goes,"Fair enough Madja."

She gives him a pitying look and sighs, "She'll come back. As far as your relationship goes, I would recommend talking it out in person. You both obviously have a lot on your minds, your relationship won't be able to move progress until you address this." Madja leans forward, like she's about to tell him a secret. "Now knowing both of you for so long, I can assure you that you guys will be fine. You're fond of each other and your biggest fear is losing each other, it's going to take a lot more than this to ruin you relationship."

Azriel looks at her agape. While this was fairly common knowledge, no one had actually sat him down and told him this. He assumed that you guys were fond of each other in the way he was fond of each of the inner circle members. Now that the dynamics of the inner circle shifted, they were all pairing up and finding their person. While you had always been close to Rhys, Azriel was the one you had usually ended up pairing up with in the end. Azriel had never come to this realisation, his entire life, he had been yearning for someone to pick him, only to drive away the one person who did.

Madja looks at him and he swears she can read his mind. She shakes her head and starts, "You were ready to die for her Azriel, when she was going to be clipped. You put yourself under the mercy of the old high lord for hundreds of years to ensure her safety and you're going to let your relationship fall apart because of what? A misunderstanding?"

Azriel stills, the conversation had escalated very quickly, leaving him speechless. He can't jump to conclusions before he even knew your side. He would talk to you and everything would be okay. It was just one big misunderstanding. It had to be.

He takes a deep breath and revels in his new found peace and clarity. The Azriel of a weeks ago would have angrily stormed off, lashing out at whatever unfortunate victim would check on him to make sure he's okay, but he's getting better now. He isn't anywhere near perfect, he is the same Azriel, but he hopes that when you get back he will be someone that is deserving to have you in their life without taking you for granted.

He takes a deep breath in and out. "Okay. When is the soonest I can speak with her?"

-

note: Azriel self-help arc time! Yes he did suffer for a bit and yes he will suffer a lot more so don't you worry, but I do think he deserves a little respite. He's coming to his senses... slowly. Thank you all for the support on this series I know we've hit a bit of a slow point in the storyline but there will be the reunion in the next episode which will be explosive one way or another so keep an eye out for that. Until next time loves!

note note: I probably will stop putting out chapters at this speed because I want to actually be able to edit them and the next parts are really important to the story and I do want to get it right :)

taglist: @alimarie1105 @chaosabroad @bbontenswhhore @tele86 @ashblooddragons @circe143 @i-am-infinite @princesssunderworld @thestartitaness @tiffany-xx @cpfantasybooks @lucia-valentinaa @jennigsonl @ivy-34 @firefly-forest @k-homosapien @coeurdeveea @cherryjain17 @bckynatt @becstersworld @rcarbo1 @gojospearlycim @atluky

[alinathinkstoomuch]

COMFORT IN YOU

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader (ex!reader, i suppose) summary: even though the two of you are no longer together, hotch can't help the fact that he still has the need to comfort you. warnings | an: lil hurt & comfort, two exes making soup together but they're still blatantly in love with one another, also pretty sure this is not the correct way to make soup i was really just saying shi to make them busy, yearning i suppose?? word count: 2k

✧ masterlist

You were having what you could only describe as a series of bad days. There were no particular causes or events for them, just the uncomfortable feeling of a heaviness in your chest. There wasn’t anything glaringly wrong, but there wasn’t much that felt right, either.

For the past week, you’d been snoozing your alarm until the last possible second. Mornings turned into rushed scrambles - brushing your teeth and hair the only boxes you’d managed to check before bolting out the door. You hadn’t bothered with makeup or a decent outfit in days, simply because nothing seemed worth the effort.

You knew the feeling would pass eventually, it wasn’t a constant thing. Every now and then, you just felt…off. Like you were watching yourself from the outside, going through the motions but not really present.

You were sure there was a word for it. Something detached and clinical - Spencer had once mentioned it on a flight home from a case. The memory hovered at the edges of your mind, but you couldn’t find the energy to chase it down just to label what you already knew.

You just didn’t feel like yourself.

“You’re not seriously staying here past five on a Friday night, are you?” Penelope asked, using your desk as a dumping ground to sort through her large purse.

You glanced up with a tried smile. “No, Pen. Just finishing up. I’ll be out of here soon.”

“Okay, sugar,” she said in what was supposed to be her warning voice – though, like everything Penelope said, it came wrapped in warmth and sweetness. “Promise me you’ll go home, take a nice hot bath, light some candles –” she fluttered her fingers animatedly, “–and show yourself some love.”

You arched a brow. “Is this your subtle way of telling me I look like shit?”

She gasped, swatting you lightly with her pink glasses case. “I would never use such language. But also…yes. A little bit.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, giving her a full performance of your pretend annoyance.

Penelope just grinned, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Text me when you get home. And take care of that beautiful face, okay?” She reached out, giving your chin a playful squeeze before blowing you an air-kiss. “Self-care, my love. Don’t make me come over there and enforce it.”

“Yes, boss,” you said, standing from your seat. “Have a good night, Penny.”

Once she was gone, you stacked the last forms for your report into a folder, quietly relieved that Hotch wasn't in his office to hand it in to. It had taken you far longer to complete than usual - in fact, you were pretty sure yours was the only report he was waiting on to close out the case.

He wouldn't have given you a hard time about it – he never had – but still, you didn't want him thinking you couldn't handle your workload. Not when you both agreed the job was too important to let anything, especially your relationship, interfere with it.

You made your way into his office, the lights still on despite the fact that he'd stepped out for a meeting hours ago. It should've felt strange being in his space. Working with him. Seeing him every day, even after the two of you had mutually agreed to call it quits. But it didn't feel strange at all.

If anything, your relationship with him had stayed almost exactly the same. The only real difference was that you couldn't crawl into his arms at the end of a long day - and that was okay, or at least you had spent a lot of time trying to convince yourself that it was. You were both adults. Mature. Maybe a little too career-hungry.

You'd given it your best shot for almost a year, and it just didn't work. That was it. There wasn't anything more either of you could've done – or, if you were honest, wanted to do. Maybe if you'd both been accountants, or if one of you had decided to transfer out of the BAU, it might've worked. But neither of you wanted that.

You both loved the job exactly as it was.

So you let go.

And maybe that was love too, in its own way.

You left the report neatly on his desk, then made your way back to your own. After packing up your things, you headed out, the building quiet behind you.

On the way home, you stopped by the grocery store near your place, telling yourself you'd pick up something for a proper dinner. But somewhere between the fluorescent lights and the half-empty shelves, you settled on a frozen meal instead. Very high-nutrient of you, truly.

By the time you got home, you didn't even bother unpacking your haul. You just dropped the bags on the countertop and left them there, your keys landing beside them with a dull clink. You headed straight for the bathroom, aiming for a quick shower and could practically hear Penelope rolling her eyes at your refusal to take a proper bath.

It couldn’t have been later than eight when a knock echoed through your home. Your slippers dragged softly across the wooden floor as you made your way to the door, unsure of who you were about to find on the other side. Perhaps it was Penelope, coming over to check whether the bath salts she had given you for your birthday had finally been put to use.

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t Penelope standing there.

It was Hotch. Still in his work clothes, with a brown bag tucked under his arm.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” you greeted, opening the door wider to let him in.

He stepped inside without a word, moving through the space like he’d never left it. Like it still belonged to him, at least in some small way. And maybe it did. For a while, this had been his second home.

You watched him cross to the kitchen, settling the bag down beside your still-unpacked groceries.

“No Thai?”

“Not tonight,” he replied, slipping off his jacket. “I thought I’d make soup.” His sleeves were rolled up before you could even respond and he was at your sink, using your soap to wash his hands to make you dinner.  

You really couldn’t make this up.

You took a seat on the bench, folding your legs beneath you as you watched him unpack the contents of the bag. “Did you read my report?”

He didn’t look up as he pulled out a bundle of parsley, a container of chicken stock and various vegetables. “I did.”

“Am I going to have to redo it?”

He glanced at you then, the faintest trace of amusement crossing his face. “No,” he said. “It was good. A little rushed, maybe – but not wrong.”

You gave dry laugh. “You can tell me to redo it, I promise I won’t get mad.”

“I know you won’t, but I also know when you’re not at your best. And I’m not going to punish you for having an off week.”

You nodded slowly, watching as he moved to grab a cutting board.

After a moment, you spoke again – softer this time. “You won’t be able to do this forever, you know.”

His eyes met yours again, but he stayed silent.

“I’m serious,” you went on, offering a small smile. “What happens when you start dating again? You’re just going to keep showing up at your ex-girlfriend’s house with soup ingredients?”

“I don’t think dating is in the cards right now.”

You tilted your head, teasing gently. “Why not? Did I leave you that emotionally wrecked?”

He shook his head with a quiet laugh. “No, you didn’t. It’s just…not where my focus is.”

You clicked your tongue, reaching for an orange from the fruit bowl. “Well, that’s a shame. Because dating is in my cards,” you revealed, digging your thumb into the skin and starting to peel.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Thinking of going for a broker this time,” you mused, not looking at him as you pulled off a strip of peel. “You know, mix it up. Maybe someone who doesn’t alphabetize their spices.”

“And you’d be happy with a broker?”

You shrugged, glancing up at him as you popped a piece of mandarin into your mouth. “Who knows.” You chewed slowly, then added with a smirk, “I can easily picture you with a nurse. Or maybe a doctor. Wouldn’t that be fun? We could do double dates, your nurse-doctor, my broker. Very grown-up of us.”

“I don’t think I’m built for double dating.”

“No,” you agreed. “You’d probably scare my broker away.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

You paused, taking the time to eat your second piece of mandarin. “Depends.”

“On?”

“How much I like the broker."

He didn’t respond right away, turning back toward the stove. “Where’s your big pot?”

“Exactly where you left it,” you replied, watching as he moved toward the lower cabinet, like he still remembered this kitchen better than his own.

And the truth was, this – whatever this was – probably wasn’t the healthiest of situations, and it wasn’t making moving on any easier for either of you.

But it was what you knew. What you remembered.

And if this was the version of him you were allowed to keep, you’d take it. You weren’t ready to go back to a life without him, not yet. Not when he still offered pieces of himself and not when you still kept saying yes.

“Do you need any help?” you asked, rising to your feet, your knees clicking in protest.  

“Always need your help,” he responded – just a little too casually. You knew he hadn’t meant for it to land as heavily as it did.

You gathered the orange peel and turned to toss it in the bin, just as Hotch stepped back from the stove. And suddenly, he was right there – in front of you. His eyes found yours and held them, like he was reading something you hadn’t yet decided to say. He’d always been good at that, seeing things before you did. Predicting thoughts you hadn’t even fully formed.

“Have you been sleeping?”

You nodded, brushing past him to rinse your hands. “Like a baby.”

He turned just slightly, enough to catch your expression. “That’s a no, then.”

“It’s hard to get comfortable on a bed that’s broken,” you said, equal parts explanation and blame. And while you wished it was a great sex story you were referring to…it wasn’t. You’d asked him to hang a frame above your bed. The next thing you heard from the living room was a loud thud – one of the bed legs snapping clean off.

“Hey, I fixed what I broke,” he offered.

Ha.

“Not very well,” you muttered, drying your hands. “Where do you want me?”

Hotch paused mid-motion as he added vegetables to the pot, eyes flicking up to meet yours.  

“In terms of helping,” you added, arching a brow like it was his mind that had wandered.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Right.” He nodded toward the cutting board. “You can shred the chicken.”

You did as you were told, moving to stand next to him. Your elbow brushed his now and then, neither of you bothering to move away.

“You still do this thing,” you said after a moment, not looking up. “Organising everything before you start. Like you’re in a restaurant kitchen.”

“It saves time,” he reasoned, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“It’s kind of endearing.”

“You used to call it controlling.”

You shrugged again. “I don’t recall.”

“Just like you don’t recall watering the basil?” His eyes moved to a pot on the windowsill, it’s leaves wilted, dropping sadly.

“You’re welcome to take it home with you.”

He raised a brow. “And let it die under my care instead?”

“Seems fair. Full-circle moment.”

Your elbow brushed his again and the two of you fell silent.

“...You okay?”

You didn’t look at him. “Yeah.”

“You sure?” he pressed, gentler now.  

You nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “Yeah. I mean… not great, but – functioning.”

“Is there anything that I can do?”

You glanced up, offering a tired but genuine smile. “Just make sure the soup’s good.”

“It will be,” he assured you. “I know how you like it.”

And he did – because he still remembered all of it. Everything you liked, everything you didn’t. What you tolerated with a tight-lipped smile and what you outright hated. He hadn’t forgotten a thing.

And as you stood there, watching him move through your kitchen like he still belonged in your home, in your heart, you couldn’t help but wonder how many more times the two of you would let yourselves end up in moments like this.

tags - @fandomscombine @dohmeti @pastelpinkflowerlife @hazzyking @bernelflo @risenqueen1521 @jazzimac1967 @camihotchner @abschaffer2 @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @pacmillo-blog-blog @stilestotherescue

(please lmk if you want to be removed from the general tag list & just be kept on the fake finance tag list)

[starguardianniom]

Unfortunately Marinette also had front seats to adults not be mature or responsible enough to be trusted with anything as Bob Roth can attest to. But the moment Chloé's name came in the picture who most likely paid him for that well money is money and there are people who clearly don't care who they hurt even if they're complete strangers who never did anything to them before as long as they get what they want. Yeah, she wants trust, but given she doesn't give it the first time around by lying she's not really making things easier for herself, especially since people would be well within their rights to be angry at the very questionnable choices she makes and then her being upset but it's not about Marinette's feelings, it's her making choices that aren't the best and are just waiting to blow up in her face. The truth would have been better received if she had been upfront from the start instead of lying to the whole world about it. She could have chosen to not follow Gabriel's wish and out him as Monarch, he was dead so he wasn't there to twist her arm into doing it, and she decided to do it anyway, even with Nathalie and Kagami not being sure about her plan. But she makes choices that will backfires on her, she can't keep Adrien ignorant forever, and well she was not the best person to make that choice either as she was also biased because it was about her boyfriend's dad and she always try to shelter and protect said boyfriend instead of letting him choose, she prefers deciding for others thinking she always knows best when time and time again she was proven wrong. And she doesn't learn, she doesn't want to upset anyone so she keeps lying because if they learn the truth they will be upset but like, it's a lesson she needs to learn, that lying is not the best solution for that. I feel in this episode that Alya trusted Marinette too much in the end, Marinette took 5 seasons to confess to Adrien and in the end she didn't, he confessed to her first, so Lila will most likely spill the beans before Marinette gets the courage to come clean, if she even gets it.

But here what I got is Marinette had more faith in a complete stranger who destroyed her reputation just because he could and was paid to do over her best friend who had every right to be angry at how she made choices for someone else when it wasn't her place to do so and now is even more wary of her just because she didn't like said bestie being mad at her for a very serious and understandable thing.

Alya is fighting for her life with these two 😭

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP fanfic Idea: Pin-Man and the Merry Metal-makers.

The Fenton children all have the misfortune of going home for the holidays and getting tangled up in their father's latest invention, where he, once again, forgot to carry the two. The invention was meant to teleport ghosts into the Ghost Portal as soon as they were captured.

It was supposed to be a long-overdue upgrade to the Fenton Thermos, which Jack had been eager to reveal. His children had all moved out, including the two clones of his son, who had morphed into their own person, and he had taken in as his kids, so it was a real treat to have them home.

Jazz and Dan were both in college four hours away. Jazz was studying psychology, and Dan was studying Law. The two had rented out a house together while working full-time jobs. Dan was one of the older students, but seeing as he hadn't been able to continue his education in his timeline, the Fentons felt like it was not "too late" when it meant learning.

Danny had chosen not to go to college but entered the trades. He had gotten into metal design and jewelry making and was currently learning to wield. Dani shared her brother's love of trade, but she focused more on metal and graphic design. They also lived alone in different apartments despite living in neighboring cities.

With everyone's conflicting schedules, they rarely, if ever, saw each other in person. Texts and phone calls were commonplace but it was nothing like waking up to the chatter of the children (Jack didn't care. They were all well into their twenties and early thirties. They would always be his children)

The holidays were the one time Jack and Maddie fought a year, so she didn't double-check his calculations before Jack fired off the thermos on Christmas morning. It, of course, malfunctioned, sucking in the Halfas twins first, then Dan, and finally, Jazz, who ran over to help, unaware it could pick up humans.

Jack had meant to create a ghost trapper with a self-emptying trash bag. Instead, he made a pocket teleporter. Only he had not designed a way to get what he teleported straight into the Ghost Zone back. Instead, he focused on making sure the ghost was flung as far away from the portal as it could teleport it to, in order to deter the ghost from coming back.

Even though Danny was no longer Phantom Two's protector, Jack and Maddie took up the job of keeping the town safe against ghosts that were actually harmful. It was a hassle having them come back after every fight.

It's safe to say that both Jack and Maddie put aside their yearly argument about Santa Claus to try to track down the children.

_____________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, the Fentons found themselves in the ghost zone, in an area none recognized, before realizing that Jazz could not fly. She plummeted towards the bottomless void, screaming at the top of her lungs, falling straight into a swirling portal of darkness.

Thanks to their ghost powers, the other three were able to get balanced in the air before shooting after her. They didn't care that the portal was colored differently; all that mattered was that one of them caught Jazz as she continued to fall, this time over the landscape of a rather grass field.

In the end, Dani was able to catch up to her, wrapping her arms around her sister and slowing them down into a gentle hover above the ground. The women sighed in relief until their thirty-two-year-old brother and the twenty-two-year-old brother landed on them because their powers fizzed out, shifting them back into humans.

Groans and swears were heard as they quickly unpiled. Dani was also now a human, sporting a large bruise on her back for her troubles.

"Where are we?" She asked, looking around. The large grass field was smacked in the middle of a large desert forest and an even larger city far away.

"Don't know," Dan mutters, clenching and unclenching his fist. "But wherever we are, it's not letting me go ghost."

"Me either," Danny reveals, jumping on the balls of his feet. "Can't even produce ice."

"If your powers aren't working, something happened to your ectoplasm filter." Jazz concludes grimly, rubbing at her ankle with one hand. It had twisted when Danny landed on her. She was staring at her wristwatch, to which their mom had attached an ectoplasm reader. "The ectoplasm levels in the air are so low they're practically non-existent. This isn't our Earth."

"Communication is down too," Dani sighs, staring at the glowing blue screen of her phone, which her parents modified to work in the Ghost Zone, singing on her face. "Can't even get a signal"

"Typically of Dad getting us stranded in a different dimension." Jazz grumbles, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "At least mid-terms ended."

"Amen to that," Dan says before straightening his back and clapping his hands. "Alright. We need to make a plan. Let's go into the city, find out if the currency they use is similar to ours, and get food and shelter if it is. How much money do you all have?"

"I'm literally in pajamas covered in Christmas trees," Dani deadpans. "I have no cash on me at all."

"You're worthless. Next?"

"I also have no money," Jazz winces, gesturing to her plain blue silk pajama set (a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pants). "I left it in my purse."

Dan rubs his face. He's also clad in pajamas, but he has a checker red and black bottom that didn't match the green shirt with the printed words Comrade of the Grinch. "I have ten dollars because I was going to run down the street and buy eggnog with cookies from that little neighbor girl. Mom handed me the money and told me to go after breakfast."

"I have nine hundred and fifty," Danny announces, ruffling in his jeans pocket until he finds the wad of cash. Everyone stares at him in utter bafflement until he shrugs. "I was going to meet up with Sam and Tucker after breakfast. We were going to gamble a little."

"You call nine-hundred and fifty a little!?"

"Oh no, I owe Tucker seven hundred dollars for that laptop he fixed up for me a few weeks ago. I tried to send it through the virtual payment apps, but his account got locked, so it had to be in cash." Danny waves away their concerns. "I'm sure he won't mind if I ask him to wait until the banks open again."

"Alright. We have a plan and funds- hopefully- let's go." Dan says, moving towards the city. He walks by a sign that reads Welcome to Gotham.

"How bad can this place be?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\

Bruce eyed the screen with wary eyes. The still image of the four siblings didn't change, nor did their bright smiles and strange offits.

It's been six months since the strangers blew into town. Bruce hadn't been able to find evidence of them beforehand, nor did he have a clear picture of their timeline.

What he did know was that sometime in December, the four siblings, going by the last name Fenton, had wandered into a second-hand store, bought a change of outfits, and vanished into the city.

They popped up again three weeks later at a local artist festival. Danny, one of the twins, had rented a booth to sell enamel pins of strangely designed ghosts. He claimed to have created them, and his sister had helped design them.

The following week, his siblings were reported for selling metal wear on the side of the road. It's illegal in Old Gotham to sell things without a license, and it had been run out by the police. They returned soon after with a permit that, despite looking as accurate as can be, was not filed in the city's databases until five days later.

Of course, he would not know any of these until he started building an investigation. What caused this investigation? The Fentons had been inside Scarecrow's latest lair as his most recent test subjects.

The only thing was that, despite the various experiments done on them, none of the Fentons showed any sign of being affected by the needle injections. If anything, they seemed more inconvenienced than frightened by their capture.

Scarecrow had concluded the same thing as Bruce. None of the four Fentons were humans, but for some reason, they were hiding among the human race as metal artists selling enamel pins and metal artwork.

Bruce wasn't sure where they were staying, what they were planning, or what they were after. He would have been okay with leaving them alone, except Damian had reported that the Pin-Man, aka Danny Fenton, had not only spotted him when Robin was doing a stake out of a possible high-ranking member of a mob but had gotten close enough to try and sell him some pins of Damian's favorite anime.

How did he know what show his son liked to watch, and how did he get close enough to a highly trained assassin who didn't notice him until it was too late?

Also, why did Damian buy nine? All questions Bruce needed to have answered.

Bruce Wayne should try to find out what other kinds of pins his son would like if Damian hasn't already bought the whole series. He'll have to stop at the rumored areas where the metal workers were said to be operating.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"SHE SO WEIRD BUT IN A CUTE WAY"

(Haven't wrote enough about conner and neglected wb!reader in a while so back on my grind)

WB reader is genuinely horrible at the whole relationship thing; like she's bad at it, real bad at it. The only relationships she's probably ever had will be the ones from dating sims or when she's talking to an AI boyfriend. Other than that, my girl has no game or just doesn't know it. You literally have a crush on a guy in your school, and you're dead oblivious. "Oh, me and him were just good friends." Well, the guy is begging you to notice him, or you're either boy repellent. Either way, WB has zero connection with boys at all, and with the neglect of the Bat family, the idea of anyone showing romantic interest in you is like the most insane thing to ever cross your mind. You didn't even know if Conner liked you when the boy literally kissed you in front of millions of people on national TV, and you still have the audacity to come back to school and say, "Oh, we're just friends?" You are so close to getting choked out by Dezzi, but it's not your fault; this just never happened to you before.

Taking your sweater, holding your hand, and flying you around like he's your personal chauffeur. When he hugs you, he grabs you by the waist, leaves his hand there, and never lets go. You see his eyes turn red every time you mention someone of the opposite gender. Oh, and you pay more attention to your Ace figurine than him. It's just simple boy stuff. Too deep? It is deep, deeper than you think. But that's what a lack of dating experience does to a girl. She doesn't know her right from her left, up from down, or right from wrong. So when he confesses his feelings, you're over the moon; you're also plummeting to Earth at maximum speed because he likes you—like, *likes* you—not in a friendly way, but he wants to be with you. Nonchalant, but the second you get into your room, you're having the biggest freakout known to man. I mean, Superboy likes you! He's not just any boy; he's Super, and he has a thing for you. This might be a gift from the heavens or a curse from below. Maybe all those fan fictions you wrote about him really did pay off, because right now you're winning, but also losing. Did I forget to remind you that you have zero dating experience? All right, it's going to take all your time playing romance games on itch.io to save you from this—all your time chatting with AI boyfriends to prepare you for a dry conversation because he's so super and you're so you. He really needs to get his eyes checked. What is wrong with that boy? Or maybe you need to get your life checked out. It's not crazy if someone shows romantic interest in you, is it?

[22ayla21]

That request with Krateros trying to interfere with Mydei’s relationship with reader and how Mydei reacted to THAT was beautiful.

I was wondering if we could get a more in-depth look into Reader doing everything she can to avoid Mydei because she believes Krateros’ words about how her presence would destroy the Prince and by extension the Kremnoans? And how Mydei pursues her refusing to accept any other answer but the truth after she distances herself and tries to avoid him until she eventually breaks down and admits that it was his teacher who told her that she would ruin him? And Mydei gets mad at her for believing that before assuring her that a future without Reader is one that he will not accept

I Won't Let You Go

Evil words assured her that she was unworthy of him. However, she was his whole world and he had no intention of letting her go.

She knew it was inevitable.

From the very beginning, from the moment she found herself among his people, their cold, disapproving glances spoke for themselves. She didn't belong in this world. Their culture, their beliefs, their traditions.

She heard whispers behind her back. Crude, sharp words, full of contempt.

"She will never be one of us."

"He's blinded, but sooner or later, he'll realize his mistake."

"She's dragging him down."

"She will cause discord. We must not allow it."

These words, like poison, seeped into her mind, poisoning the confidence she tried to maintain. She didn't want him to be torn between her and his people. She didn't want to become a crack leading to division.

And so, when night enveloped the camp in quiet, gloomy peace, she made her decision.

She packed her things, trying to be as silent as possible. Her trembling fingers gripped the fabric, and a dull ache settled in her chest, which she tried to suppress. This had to be right. This was right. But everything changed when heavy footsteps sounded behind her.

Mydei.

She didn't hear him come in, but she felt his presence with her whole being. It was always like that—weighty, warm, searing.

He didn't say anything immediately. He just stood there, watching her prepare to leave. And then something in him broke.

A sharp sound echoed in the room—he knocked the bag out of her hands, and it fell to the ground. His breathing was heavy, as if he had just run several miles.

She couldn't look him in the eyes. But he wasn't going to let her avoid it.

His hands—strong, hot—landed on her shoulders, turning her to face him. And then she saw it. His gaze. It was full of anger. Not coldness, not indifference, but rage mixed with despair.

"How could you think I'd let you go?"

He didn't say it aloud, but she didn't need to hear his voice to understand. Her heart beat in her chest too fast, too loud.

"You know what your people say," her voice trembled. "I can't be the cause of discord between you and them. They won't accept me, Mydei. They will never accept me."

He clenched his teeth, the muscles in his neck tensed.

And then he stepped forward, forcing her to retreat. Another step—her back touched the wall. His hands were on either side of her, cutting off her escape.

"I won't accept that."

His voice was low, firm.

"I won't accept that as a reason for breaking up. I won't accept their words as truth. And especially, I won't accept your leaving."

His fingers clenched into fists and then relaxed. He raised his hand and ran his fingers along her cheek—a desperate, almost pleading gesture.

"You think you can just leave?"

She felt her resolve cracking.

"I..."

"No."

His voice cut off her words.

"No. You will stay. With me. You have no right to decide for both of us. I won't let you go."

His palm rested on the back of her head, forcing her forehead to press against his chest. She could hear his heart beating fast.

And then she broke.

Her hands gripped his clothing tightly, her shoulders trembled. She felt him hug her, as if afraid she would crumble in his arms. And at that moment, she understood: he would never let her go. Never.

It didn't matter what his people said. It didn't matter what obstacles stood before them. Because for him, only one thing mattered.

Her.

[radioactiveheadache]

anon idk if you'll ever read this, i just want you to know that i totally understand how you feel with regard to the feeling of unfairness, and i totally understand that you're NOT blaming the transmasc guy here.

many peoples' first inclination with something like this is always to say "don't blame them, it's not their fault". and it's absolutely true, and even understandable that it's the knee-jerk reaction! it's very hard for most people, i think, to hear someone say "why do THEY get what I want/need/deserve to have" and not think "oh, this person is mad at this other individual for having a thing that they want/need/deserve to have". but i know what you meant.

i know that what you were saying was "i don't understand how two peoples' experiences can be so incredibly parallel, and yet similar situations for them can turn out so differently". i know that you didn't intend to discount anything about his experience. i know you were just lamenting the unfairness of it all on the whole, that you were prompted to think of it because you saw someone else's success with something you'd tried so hard at. that you in no way wish that he had NOT been accepted openly, you just can't easily process why your experience with this seems to have been so different. i know that you just wish that you had also been met with kindness and love and acceptance.

we're social creatures. we relate to each other, and connect with each other, and feel each others' pains and joys and fears and frustrations, and it informs how we feel about our own pains and joys and fears and frustrations whether we like it or not. just as we can't help crying in joy at weddings, we can't help the way that we feel when we see others getting what we desperately, desperately need, even when we know they deserve to have it too—and i know how important it is to be able to get that off of your chest without being judged for feeling it.

i think the answer to why it happened is just that people are assholes sometimes. unfortunately, as op mentioned, transfems bear an incredible burden of fearmongering and violence and general societal rage. in an effort to understand where those assholes were coming from, just as i am trying to understand you, i think at least some part of it must have been defensive. they met with a person who was using a label she felt made sense to her, but the circumstances of her existence just weren't understandable to them. so instead of trying to understand, they chalked her up to an interloper, perhaps for their perceived "safety", and just couldn't (or wouldn't) comprehend that they were hurting a fellow -femme in the process. it's not right, it's not kind, i don't think they should have done that to you. but that's all i can imagine, outside of pure cruelty.

and, like op, i am obligated to mention that we have no idea what the transmasc anon has met with before this. context clues give us the sense that this is his first time mentioning his intersex status to fellow transmascs, and therefore he hasn't been bullied out of spaces he should be welcomed into, but who is to say except for him? it might be that he has found some similar assholes to yours out there. but that does nothing to lessen your pain, and i don't believe it shoudl invalidate your pain, either.

i'm genuinely sorry that spaces which should have been safe were hostile instead. i'm sorry that you've been disrespected and made to feel like something you're not. and—perhaps going out on a limb, but i have a hunch—i understand that being told "but you CAN be trans!" isn't helpful to you right now, and may never be helpful again. i hear you, anon. i know what you meant. i love you very much.

I saw the anon you got from an amab intersex man who wants to identify as transmasc, and the notes on that post made me really genuinely upset.

I am intersex (5-ARD) as well, I am a girl, I'm afab, but I have internal testicles. I am over 6' tall. My voice dropped at 13 and i have been called he by every new person i meet. I have even had trans people misgender me when they find out i am "actually just cis" and not transfemme.. or at least what they think a transfemme should be. I lurk in transfemme spaces online and have for a long time, especially regarding voice training when I was younger. I called myself transfem with a note that I am afab intersex briefly on discord after seeing intersex activists on here advocate for people like me doing so, it felt right, it felt like me, but I was harassed and banned from servers for it. I even had a document made about me for it. I was told that what I was doing was violating and a betrayal to the real transfemmes, and that I was a terf psyop.

For that reason I just can't identify with the term transfemme anymore. There's too much pain there. So I am just an intersex femme. And, I'm just so upset that the opposite of my situation, an amab transmasc intersex person, was accepted into that space with open arms and I was spat on. It feels like transmisogyny and intersexism had a horrible demon baby that only I can see and it lives in the community I thought I might have actually allowed to be part of. I wish I could be trans but I am just too wrong, i must be a terf plot. I can't be a cis girl either. I am a male with a dsd that made it be assigned the wrong sex. Not a woman. Never a woman. Only ever a mockery of a woman. And I hear this from all sorts of women. Cis and trans. Even by other intersex women with CAH or PCOS. I'm too intersex. Even my own mother thinks I was assigned the wrong sex and I don't think she ever saw me as a girl.

It feels like I can't be a woman, I'm not allowed in any way shape or form. It feels like my choice is between this and just giving up on living completely. Why was that other anon allowed to be trans but I am not? Why are only the evil afab transfems the ones being targeted in posts that get thousands of notes, but that guy gets nothing but love. It isn't fair. It's just not fair. I wish him well but I am just so frustrated.

i mean. listen. you are also allowed to be trans. that anon also did not have a good time. im sorry you’re suffering it really sucks but that’s 1. not his fault and also 2. you could get the same exact love and affirmation here but like. listen to me. why is that this one guy’s fault.

you can always come here for love and affirmation. you will always be welcome. i do think it sucks that afab transfem intersex folks receive the brunt of violence within the community. but you cant come here mad that other people were affirmed because you feel more misaligned.

(also i have a long ass fucking block list, deleted shitty replies, and generally my posts hit healthy circles. do you think if some other blog got that ask the replies woukd be the same?🎤?)

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

slow kisses - Joel Miller

900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts

bio : This story is part of the 900 Followers Milestone Celebration - kissing prompts.

person ordering: anon

warnings : fluff, married life, desire to have sex, Sarah is still small, a few curses

[my masterlist]

You were sure you had reached your maximum level of exhaustion. Such a level had to exist, right? After a whole week at work, where no one spared you, when you had to combine household duties with raising a four-year-old daughter - you had every right to feel tired.

And there was your husband, Joel. The owner of a construction company, who worked just as hard as you and had just returned home.

You heard him take off his shoes and slowly walk up the stairs. Soon, in the bathroom doorway, you saw the face of your beloved man. Hair tousled, eyes tired, but still with a smile just for you.

"Sarah, is he sleeping? It's so quiet..." he murmured, brushing his lips against your cheek.

You sighed. "Yeah, I promised her we'd go for ice cream tomorrow and she went to bed early."

"So we'll go." he rested his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and looked at your shared reflection in the mirror "I'm so fucking tired... This renovation is killing me."

"I know, honey. You snore so loudly that..."

"I don't snore at all." Joel was outraged, frowning and quickly pinching your butt "You also collapse on the bed at the end of the day. Ughh... We both work too much."

He snuggled against your back and inhaled the sweet scent of shower gel. “Would you like a little you-know-what today?”

You chuckled. "Sarah's sleeping, you don't have to speak in code."

"God! I want to fuck you, baby. I miss you so much."

You both wanted to give your daughter the best, and now you were in the thick of it and a lot of things just piled on top of each other. You couldn't even remember the last time you had time to yourself or when you had real sex, not a quickie ten minutes before your alarm.

"Take a shower and we'll meet in bed, okay?" you said, turning in his arms and kissing him on the lips.

"Give me ten minutes."

But when Joel came out of the bathroom after twelve minutes, you were lying on the bed, dozing off slightly. You woke up to the feeling that someone was slowly kissing your legs and going higher and higher.

"Joel..." you moaned when you felt his still damp hair on your skin.

"I want you." he mumbled in your ear, and then... yawned.

"Oh, yes. We're so tired, nothing will come of it."

"Baby..."

Lazy, slow kisses were placed on your neck, shoulders and cleavage. Your husband's heated body would really tempt you if you didn't know what state you both were in.

"Maybe you'll just jump on me, baby, huh?" he looked at you pleadingly with his sweet eyes "You like being on top."

"Yeah, but today I'd rather be on the bottom and do the bare minimum."

"Jesus..." he groaned, burying his face in your breasts and inhaling your scent deeply "I'd like to fuck, but I'm not even sure if I'll get hard."

"Poor thing..."

You took his face in your hands and kissed his soft lips. You couldn't even kiss harder. After the warm bath, your bodies had become so lazy that they refused to do anything. Joel was so pleasantly warm, the mattress so comfortable. He didn't seem too keen on any activity either.

"Maybe I should set the watch a little earlier?" you suggested "We'll do it in the morning, before Sarah wakes up."

"My wife is a fucking genius." he sighed and slid off you, lying down next to you "I'll fuck you tomorrow. Be sure of that."

"I am, baby."

You quickly set the alarm on your phone and immediately felt a strong arm pull you to Joel's solid body. A few more slow kisses went to your exposed neck and shoulders.

"I love you. You know that?" he murmured quietly.

"I love you too, Joel." you replied, feeling the bed slowly swallow you.

"Tomorrow we'll fuck..."

"You're damn right."

You fell asleep almost at the same time. But it wasn't the alarm clock that woke you up, but a sweet promise. Something hit you hard and suddenly tore you from your sleep.

"Daddy!"

Your daughter jumped again and threw herself between you and Joel. You heard a muffled groan.

"Jesus, Sarah..."

"Get up, daddy! We're going for ice cream! For ice cream!" she babbled. You rolled onto your back and looked at the girl sitting on Joel's chest. Her small hands ruffled his hair even more.

"Give me a few more minutes, please."

But Sarah took no prisoners, and soon you both had to get out of bed. The strange feeling that you had forgotten something plagued your mind. It wasn't until the alarm on your phone went off that you and Joel looked at each other. He shrugged.

"Maybe next time." he said, winking at you. "Ice cream is much more important, babe."

[onsraas]

𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

┊rafe cameron x reader

summary: rafe and his best friend who are now entangled in a friends-with-benefits situation after a careless bet, and realizing that dealing with feeling is not as easy they thought.

warning(s): explicit content ahead!! though there’s no outright smut but there is heavy language and connotations. kind of humorous in the beginning but angty-ish in the end. smoking. nakedness. 3rd person narrative.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: been over a year since I last posted here, but I’ve been working on this one for months, yet I couldn’t find the perfect way to end it. If you want a pt. 2 just lemme know.

ps. reblogging helps a lot.

photo credits | navigation

"You do know that anyone could see you, right?" She remarks, though he makes no signs that he's actually heard her as his back is given her.

Rafe is butt naked, facing the now lonely beach, out in the deck where anyone could see him if it were not to be 2 a.m.

She soon realizes though, that he's not alone, but accompanied by his cigars, and the intoxicating scent makes her body tingle under the borrowed clothes. "What ya doing?" She said once beside him.

He barely looks at her as he says, "I'm having a party back here, can't you see?" A smirk plastered across his face, while he inhaled deep into the cigarette he held between his index and middle finger.

"Jerk." She mutters, already used to his irony but bugged either way. She reaches for the pack of cigarettes, looking for one of her own, but was met with the disappointing view of its emptiness. "You fucking addict," she jokes. "you didn't even leave me one."

Rafe's smirk is still there when he looks at her scowling face. "Take this one," he hands the cylinder for her to grab, expecting her to grab it eagerly, and is nothing but correct. "I've already had two, either way."

"How long have you been here, anyway?" She says, sounding like a kid speaking with their mouth full, but instead it's an adult with a dangling cigarette between her lips. And if it were up to Rafe, he'd choose to stop staring at those.

"You were in the bathroom a while." Waking himself from the distracting sight of her, he responded. He knew that if he kept looking he'd only get a boner, and second rounds were not part of the deal. Besides, it's not like he could hide it with his still completely naked form.

"Well, I was washing away your bodily fluids, thank you very much." She was so oblivious on Rafe's attempt to warn her away from anything that reminded him of them having sex. "By the way, these clothes were what I could find. I'll give them back before I leave."

"That's alright." It was anything but alright. By this clothes, she was referring to one of his shirts and a pair of shorts that looked huge on her, and yet he had to find it hot.

She started to realize it too. How so not alright it was. It showed a level of intimacy neither of them wanted to get to. Or at least Rafe didn't, and his flushed face was no longer hard to recognize.

Their deal started when both of them, tipsy, decided to give each other some confessions, "only to set the friendship better into place." They'd said, as if years of friendship weren't enough.

When she confessed that no man had ever made her come, Rafe couldn't help but take that as seriously as one could a confession from a tipsy woman. Very seriously. He was sure of his abilities, and so he bet fifty bucks on it.

She wanted those fifty. More so that she could laugh in his face when she won against him making her come. Yet, in the span of seven minutes, Rafe had gotten those fifty back in his wallet.

They'd sworn they would never do it again.

But then a movie night at Rafe's got in the way, and soon enough they were fucking with the sound of the movie making them background.

After that they decided they enjoyed it too much for it to just stop, but, there had to be severe rules, since, in her words "the friendship went way back to throw it away." And in his words "he didn't want to commit."

Though both of them had been lying that day, neither of them knew it.

He regretted it now. Giving her his cigarette, that is. He was struggling to keep himself distracted from his own thoughts, since they all involved her. And not in a family friendly kind of way.

He could imagine grabbing her right now, how her mouth would feel, full of the intoxicating taste of tabaco as his tongue went into it. How he would use both his hands to pull her against him, and how she would moan when his thumbs caressed her covered nipples.

He felt something shoved against his chest and he could hear the sound of the ocean again, so his daydream was over. "You've got a boner." When he looks down, he realizes it is the shorts she'd had on.

She could feel Rafe staring, but she was trying very hard not to look at him. She knew a look back would only make this more complicated, and she would not hesitate to fix his 'problem'. Whether she was the reason of said problem or not.

Soon enough, she finally felt Rafe taking the shorts from her, and she could hear the sound of the fabric as he puts them on.

"I think this has to come to an end, Rafe." She says, already giving up on the cigarette and putting it in the ashtray.

Rafe looks at her, incredulous at her words, "Because of this?" He asks while motioning to his erection. "Don't be stupid, it's not you who caused it." Using the same tone a fifth grader would use to say he doesn't like the girl he's been staring at all day.

"I don't give a fuck about your erection. It's cold and dicks are weak, Rafe. I met someone."

He only looked at her through his peripheral vision, looking into her as if her wandering eyes would give him the reason of such a sudden statement.

He felt the need to ask who, why, when, where. Yet, he asked neither. Instead he completely turned to her, looking at her right in the eyes, making her whole demeanour change, and she felt small again.

"We knew this would happen, Rafe." But her words only sounded like a made-up excuse. "You know, we're friends. You're my pal." She pitied herself, and she pitied herself even more when she decided to gently punch him in the shoulder, making Rafe glare at her fist.

"Did you actually just call me your pal?" An intense scowl adorning his face. "You were sitting on my face less than an hour ago. You don't get to call me pal."

His voice was rough, as well as his face expression, but the hand grabbing her waist was nothing but a gentle touch with a longing undertone.

She could say absolutely nothing. Nothing when he pulled her closer; nothing when his eyes met hers; and nothing when their faces were mere inches apart.

“Why?” He finally dared to ask.

“Rafe, this is not up for debate. It was never supposed to come this far.” She thought her next words throughly, as if they would change anything. Or maybe hoping they would change anything. “You just don’t care about me that much for me to keep putting my heart in jeopardy.”

“I don’t think you know how much I actually care about you.” His words were stained with hurt, because how could she not realize?

Her face started to heat up from exasperation, “tell me how much you actually care, then. Because all you’ve been doing throughout our whole friendship is hid—”

She couldn’t finish her monologue before Rafe’s lips were on hers. Breaking every rule they’d ever set.

Though they’d kissed plenty of times, this time was different. She could feel everything. And not lust, or desire. But rather something more like longing and desperation.

She felt him rounding her arm around her waist, hugging her closer to him, as if he thought she was going to disappear on him. And when her hand touched his face, she retreated from the kiss, looking for his eyes, and found was she was looking for.

"Will you keep seeing him?" He asked, breathless from the kiss and breathless from  hope.

Instead of answering his question she just said, “I don’t think that’s going to be enough for how much I care.”

[froginmygarden]

It started with an ad: long day of work

"Hello, Surfer Smile Studio here, how can I help you? ... Yes, she does, let me check her scedual. ... No, Dr. Brown doesn't have any free time this week, but I can sign you up for next friday 13:45, would that work? ... Eccellent, we'll see you then!"

And that was the last call of the day, phone line now officialy off and with three hours remaining 'till cosing. Danny let out a painfull whine as he stretched his legs. Was he imagining it or was this day esspecially long? What he wouldn't do just for a short flight home, like right about now. But no all he got ware needles in his-

"Can you wait for Mrs. Jenkins to come by in 10? I got a go out for a bit."

"Sure," honestly he didn't want to, that old lady seemed to have it out for him since day one, he just wasn't a good enough anything in her eyes. Hell were he a dung pile she'd say he wasn't brown or smelly enough.

"Thanks," And off she went, already pulling out her light. Whatever mints Ann was using must be crafted by monks or come from heaven itself, because if that girl was to breath in your face you wouldn't be able to tell she'd had half a pack of thins a day. Or maybe the equipment was for show, and she only pulled them out when someone difficult was to show up, neither seemed more likeley.

With that he was alone at the reception. Again. There wasn't much to do but sit and wait for the next apointment, whitch was Jenkins. If only god all mighty would take her already.

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

The light seems dimmer then before, Danny thaught as he stepped up to the kiosk, maybe the string inside will snap soon.

"Do you need something?"

"No, just looking."

It was awfully empty tonight, no cars or pedestrians, no critters either, you could write a childrens rhym book about this.

Coming home was quiet, no lights on, no talking, just some dirty dishes and scattered toys. Dani was sound asleep in her bed. Yeah leaving her home alone wasn't the best or a long term plan, but they didn't have many options. Besides, while she had started behaving more her current age (whitch was a bit over a year old, based on size he'd guessed 13 months), Dani seemes to remember her old self, so she's not really a toddler, but this arrangment only lasts as long as everyone thinks he has a sitter for her, other times she gets a fun little trip to the dentist.

"Hi, honey, how was your day? I had the worst day today, you know. Can you immagine, some of these people-", Danny whispered on and on as he wiped the drool off of Dani's face. Honestly, she looked like a sweet little angel right now, so calm, so peacefule. It made him think that all that he does will be worth it at the end. But maybe it was just his "daddy brain" talking.

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

"And as you can see, this months activity has gone down by 15% since our last encounter, The Arctic seems to be retreating and recovering their losses whitch has sown displeasure amongst their current allys."

The stars were pretty today, or night, who knows. Look how they were all sparkling, and there went a satelite, and anoter one, and another, and another, and another but this time blue. Barry was bouncing his leg so hard it was kinda vibrating his chair, he didn't like that. Green Arrow seemed more interested it stringnig and unstringing his bow, whitch, sure, he'd like to have something a bit distracting too right about now. The rest seemed to more or less be paying attention, speaking of people, Supes was pretty figetty as well. Now what was that about?

"If nobody has anthing to add, this meeting is over. Green Latern, you are still expected at the med bay for scanning," and it was almost over, Hal could feel the sweet taste of ever aproaching freedom.

There wasn't anything wrong with him. What did he tell you? He can handle anything you throw his way, literally. He was just that good, so he was quickly sent on his way.

The night, as it turns out it was, was pretty nice. Not much traffic down on the roads and no sudden attacka, and it better stay that way, all he was currently interested in was crashing into bed and not getting up for a few days.

No one seemed to be awake and, while he wouldn't usually do this, he decided to just get in through the balcony, not feeling like flothing down, trasforming and then having to get all the way up again by stairs.

His head soon hit the pillow and let me tell you the feeling was euphoric, his body ached from his long patrol and getting dragged into a JL meeting right after didn't make it any better. But this? This made it all worth it in the end.

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

EVICTION NOTICE

Date: XX/XX/20XX

This notice is sent to Harold Jordan ("Tenant") and further directed to all residents, occupants, subtenants, and any others in posession of the Premises.

Property Adress: Apt. nr. XX, XX of XX str, Coast City ("Premises")

Lease Start Date: XX/XX/20XX ("Lease")

In accordance with your Lease and the laws located in this State, after service of this notice you are herbally given...

He takes it back, he didn't need anything disracting or interesting at all, he'd like to have this not happen, thank you very much. He'd rather listen to Bats go on about attack probabilities and tactics.

"ssssssssssss, fuck."

What the hell was he going to do now?

__________________________________

A/N: Heeeeeeeeeyyy. Sorry for the short chapter. I know the pacing is kind of slow, but please bear with me. I want to make a little build up to their first meating, so it's not basically "So they are room mates now", I do have a plot in mind, but again this is my first fic, so if anyone has pacing or conversation sugestions I'm all ears. Thanks to anyone who read this. <3

P.S. I'm posting on the computer, not sure how to put the "Show less" on, so I'm sorry if this takes a lot of screen space on mobile. :(

If I spot too major an error I'll edit it later.

[zepskies]

👀👀 Oh Dean is that how you always say thank you? lol

ahahaha probably not. 😝

Is that a little Friends reference there?

Ooh girl you know it is! 😘 There are a LOT of them in this part especially lol.

Oh Lisa, I imagine a get together to celebrate is the last thing anyone is going to want to do right after giving birth. I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt here and assume she's trying to be nice and wants to feel included.

Right?? lol Poor mom just wants to rest, and Dean sees that in that scene. But my HC was that yes, Lisa's just trying to be "a part of it," but she's going about it the wrong way. 😅

5 YEARS??!! I just wanted to shout at them here, they've gone 5 years and still haven't worked out they should be together! I can kind of understand it though, there has been a lot of misunderstandings and miscommunication happen from the beginning with these two.

Suuuuper fucking frustrating, right? lol But yes, the central theme here is misunderstanding/miscommunication, and that follows them until the end unfortunately. 😅

Oh she's with Benny. I can understand that he's a good guy. I have a feeling he may end up getting hurt though.

Once again, your instincts are spot on (unfortunately for Benny). 🥲🥲

Ah Lisa has picked up on it, although I don't think Robbie's birthday party was the best time to start bringing that up.

Like, her point is totally valid, but maybe not at a 5 year old's birthday party? 😅

Lisa really hit a nerve didn't she and the bike is where his frustration is really coming out.

Oh yeah you nailed it. Dean's pissy-ness here is in large part stemming from him not liking the idea of reader and Benny potentially getting married. 🥲

Hmm... interesting 🤔 That whole scene between Dean and Lisa after they left the restaurant was so sad. I did feel sorry for Lisa there it must be so difficult having to face up to the realisation that the person you are in a relationship with is in love with someone else.

Right? The emergency contact thing was super telling imo.

I'm glad you felt for Lisa - that scene was really the biggest thing to try and redeem her from Part 1. She doesn't deserve all the push and pull Dean has put her through either, and the way she finally lets him go and tells him to fight for his family is a true credit to her strength and character growth at this point. 💜

Although poor Benny! I was afraid he was going to get hurt...

I knowwww, poor Benny really gets the worst of it. 🥺 He doesn't deserve what happens, and that he feels he has to transfer out of Firehouse 83 because he just can't be friends/work with Dean anymore. It's too painful. It just shows how we can unintentionally hurt those closest to us by keeping things inside/not being honest -- which now that I think about it, was a theme SPN touched on a lot between Sam and Dean.

Perfect ending to this lovely story. I thoroughly enjoyed this lovely 💖

Aw thank you so very much, lovely!! I'm so glad you enjoyed If I Stay, despite the angsty ride. 😅 Stay tuned for an epilogue in hopefully the near future! 💕💕

IF I STAY - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

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

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

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

Word Count: 13.1K

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

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Now or Never

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…Or something like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Benny! It’s good to see you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why does it smell like a bakery in here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aw, come on. It’s a badass name!”

“What about Aiden?” you suggest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How about Benjamin,” comes a Louisiana drawl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FIVE YEARS LATER... 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Need an iron lung?” Lisa teases.

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

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

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

Dean’s good mood diminishes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? What’re you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean expels a heavy sigh. “Lis—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your brows raise high. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just that what? he wonders.

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

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

“Dean!” Benny shouts in alarm.

Luckily, the truck itself breaks Dean's fall.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Benny nods.

“You got it, brother.”

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

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

Her tone is cutting, and it takes you aback.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two Months Ago...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I caught a minnow!”

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

“A marlin?” Robbie questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you tell him?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” you ask.

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

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

“Before Lisa,” Dean says.

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

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

Your eyes widen. Finally, that jogs your memory.

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

You have to laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

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

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

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

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

But Dean surprises you with another question.

“Do you think if…”

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

Just as you open your mouth to reply—

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

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” you nod.

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

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

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

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

Now...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nice and safe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean,” you gasp.

Benny’s expression slackens. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She just gives him a long look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean takes off his blazer and begins to undo the buttons on his cuffs. He watches her all the while, knowing that a storm is brewing. She shucks off her heels and slowly paces the living room on bare feet, like her whirling thoughts are fueling every step.

“All right, I give. What’s going on?” Dean asks. “What’d I do this time?”

She pauses, with her back turned to him.

Shit, he thinks. He shouldn’t have said it like that.

He prepares for the inevitable blow up, but it never comes. Lisa just heaves a sigh. Slowly she turns, and Dean’s shocked and dismayed to see the tears welling up in her deep brown eyes. He makes quick strides toward her, but she raises a hand to keep him at bay.

“Dean, when you picture yourself happy, truly happy,” she says. “Is it with me? Can you imagine yourself marrying me? Buying the house, having kids, growing old together?”

If Dean was thrown for a loop before, he’s even more stunned by her question. “Lis…”

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads. Her tears begin to brim over, but she blinks, somehow keeping them at bay.

It’s a bit too long before Dean realizes that he can’t give her an answer. At least, not the one he knows she wants to hear.

When he thinks of that picture in his mind, of course he sees his son. But the only other person Dean can imagine there beside him is…

“I…” He wills his mouth to work, but nothing else comes out.

The only face he can conjure is yours. Your eyes are warm and welcoming, your smile as bright and contagious as your laugh.

The only voice he can hear is yours, gentle and strong at the same time.

The only one he can see is you.

He knows the shampoo you use and the perfume you like to wear, how the sweet and floral scents mix together and linger in your hair and on your skin.

Even now he remembers the contours of your body, and how it could fit so well against his. He knows that you used to try and hide your shape under loose, baggy shirts and cargo pants that did nothing for you. He knows how much courage it took you to wear that red dress to his brother’s party, because you told him once, at one of those Sunday dinners at your parents’ house.

Come to think of it, there’s not a whole lot that Dean doesn’t know about you, except maybe what you see when you look at him.

“You love her,” Lisa finishes for him. “I think you always have.”

Dean’s throat tightens. Somehow he swallows anyway, and he shakes his head. 

“Lisa, I loved you.”

“Maybe you did, in your own way,” she says, laughing a little through her tears as she wipes them away. “But you already have a family, Dean. Go fight for it.” 

Dean doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he can do.

He goes to her and kisses her cheek. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says. 

Lisa merely nods, wiping her face dry. She watches Dean Winchester walk out of her apartment, and out of her life for good this time. 

Dean calls your cell, but it goes to voicemail. He drives all the way back to the restaurant and doesn’t find you or Benny there. 

Dean realizes that what he’s doing, what he plans to do, is not fucking cool. He wouldn’t blame you or even Benny for being severely pissed when Dean shows up. He also knows that he can’t let another day pass where he keeps lying to you, and himself. 

He eventually finds you at home. What’s weird is that Benny’s truck isn’t in the driveway—just your car. He knocks on your door, and he waits.

He unconsciously holds his breath while he waits in that terrible existence of limbo. However, his heart thrums back to life when he hears your footsteps drawing closer to the door. Anticipation, excitement, dread, it all roils together inside him like a bad cocktail as the door swings open.

And he’s once again rendered a bit breathless at the sight of you in that dress. The color alone appeals to him, let alone the way it accentuates your every curve, from full breasts to the swell of your hips, the softer slope of your thighs, and bare toes painted. You’re fucking delectable, every curve, and a temptation without you even meaning to be. 

You’re just…you’re still so goddamn beautiful, like the night he first saw you. Even now, he can almost feel the give of your thighs under his hands, his fingers pressed to supple flesh. 

But then he’s drawn to your face, and your wide eyes full of surprise. Your mascara is a bit smudged though. Your eyes are red too, like you’ve been crying. His brows furrow in concern.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” you ask.

“I need to talk to you, but uh…did something happen?” he asks. “You okay?”

You’re reluctant to tell him. Did Benny say something to upset you? Or was it something he did?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say.

Instinctively, Dean knows it’s a lie.

“This isn’t a good time though,” you say, after clearing your throat. “Can we do this tomorrow, maybe?”

Dean leans a hand on the doorframe.

“Please, it’s important,” he says. His eyes implore you harder than his words. Please.

That does it. A sigh passes through your lips, but you let him in. He knows Robbie is with your parents for the night, which actually makes this easier.

Once he steps inside the apartment, Dean does notice that your bedroom door is open. Half the drawers to your dresser are open too, and empty. Certain frames that used to be on your coffee table are no longer there, like the one of you, Benny, and Robbie on a camping trip. 

“You want some coffee, or soda?” you ask. 

Dean declines and grasps your arm before you can busy yourself into “hostess” mode. He leads you to the couch, where you both sit down together.

“What happened tonight?” he asks. “Where’s Benny?”

Your lower lip wobbles, the beginning of your telltale cry face. Dean knows his son gets it from you, and it always breaks his heart. He squeezes your arm gently, trying to ground you.

“Benny proposed to me tonight,” you confess, taking in a sharp breath. “He proposed, and I couldn’t give him an answer.” 

You shake your head as the tears sting hot in your eyes. 

“He got so upset, he just—he left!” You throw your hands up. “But honestly, I don’t blame him.”

Dean tries to comfort you as you try and fail to wipe at your face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, cupping your cheek to brush the tears away himself. 

“Why couldn’t you answer him?” he asks. 

You look up at Dean, and you finally notice the shine of hope in his eyes. Dean touches your cheek more tenderly. 

“Does it mean I have a chance here?” he asks.

Despite what your eyes tell you, you still gape at him in shock. “What? But…what about Lisa?”

“It’s over. For good this time,” Dean shakes his head. “I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…”

And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

You begin to crumble all over again. You pull away from him and his touch, because you can’t believe it. You cover your face with your hands, sniffling as you try to make sense of his words, his touch, and the warm flutter threatening to brim happiness in your heart.

“God, Dean. You can't just..."

"I mean it," he insists.

You're still reluctant to take him seriously...no matter how much you want to. It's a conflicting realization that hurts, and makes you feel stupid for taking so long to figure it out, and makes you hate yourself for hoping his words are true.

"Come the morning, you’re going to change your mind,” you reason, without looking at him. “Like you’ve done with Lisa a thousand times.”

“No,” Dean says firmly. He shifts closer and prompts you to look at him, really look at him.

“Not about this, and you know it,” he says, catching and holding your gaze. “That’s why you couldn’t say yes to Benny. Because you know what we’ve got. It’s the real deal.”

You still look uncertain, even though you can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Dean has always had this way of looking into the very depths of you, like he can actually see every thought as it passes through your mind.  

“I should’ve said yes,” you say. “I can rely on Benny. I know he would stay by my side, and…and I know he won’t hurt me.”

Not like I’ve just hurt him, you think. Guilt still pricks at your heart. The last thing you ever wanted to do was lead him on, and yet, that’s what you’d done, wasn’t it? You thought you had loved him. You’re sure that you did, but maybe it just wasn’t the kind of love that could reach down deep and grab you, set your blood on fire, and make you ache when the burn was gone.

That spark licks across your skin when Dean takes your hands.  

“What if I want to be that guy for you,” he says.

You allow yourself to look at him. Really look at him.

You know Dean. When he gets an idea in his head, it inhabits every bone and shred of muscle in his body. There’s no mistaking his resolve, or the steady grip of his hands over yours.

“If you let me, I’ll stay. I won’t leave you,” he says. In his eyes, there’s a firm promise. “I can be the guy you rely on. The man you can trust. The man who’s gonna love you, come whatever. Because now I know what it means. I know how it feels.”

You bite your lower lip against the smile that wants to surface.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Dean smiles for you. “If you wanna know the truth, I’m pretty sure I’ve been loving you since the day I heard Robbie’s heartbeat for the first time.” 

Your tears flow harder at that. A shaky breath escapes you, though it does nothing to steady you. Dean strokes your cheek gently with his thumb. 

“Please, just give me this one chance,” he asks. Begs, really. 

He doesn’t have to though. You nod, just a little. 

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s try.”

Dean's smile spreads slow, but warm across his face. It’s your favorite kind, the kind that crinkles his eyes. 

He leans in and claims your lips with his own. The passion of it is familiar, but you don't think it’s the same as five years ago. Now, there’s an underlying note of tenderness in his touch and each new way he tastes you deeper. He holds nothing back this time, and neither do you. 

Your fingers tangle in his shirt, and then in his hair as you moan into his mouth. “Dean.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he answers against your lips, though he doesn’t give you much room to keep talking.

You haven’t heard him call you sweetheart in a long time. You feel your heart knitting back together, stitch by stitch. Tears sting in your eyes anew, but you squeeze your eyes shut against them.

“I…”

You can’t even continue the breathless thought. You hold his face desperately between your hands, pressing your forehead to his for a moment as you both catch your breath. But this man is like the sweetest, most seductive vice. Now that you’ve gotten another hit, you can’t resist. You no longer want to.

His arms wrap around you more securely, and he leans in to lure you back into his kiss. His tongue breaches past your lips to curl along yours with tantalizing strokes. His hands slowly move down your back and along your waist.

“Mmm, missed the hell outta this,” he groans into your mouth. Your heart flutters again at the way he holds you, the way his big hands squeeze you and feel you.

You let him guide you down onto the sofa cushions. He slots himself between your bare thighs and runs his hand up familiar smooth skin, bunching the skirt of your dress higher as he goes. He aims to get himself reacquainted with every soft part of you that welcomes him back.

For once, the gates around your hearts swing free. 

Dean never imagined that his own son would hand him the ring he gives to his wife, but today, it just feels like symmetry. He grins and winks at Robbie.

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean says.

His son’s beaming grin is wide and toothy, but the boy takes his job very seriously and delivers the other ring to you. You smile brightly and caress his cheek after you take the shining, white gold band from him. It matches the thinner band that Dean has for you; it'll soon join the engagement ring that once belonged to his mother.

Robbie had liked Benny a lot, but he loves his dad. He’s probably the happiest person in the room to see his parents take each other’s hands in front of the minister. 

Benny is understandably absent in the chapel today. You had met with him after that night of your botched anniversary to apologize to him, and so had Dean. Benny understood. He’d admitted that in the back of his mind, he feared this might happen.

“I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me,” you said to him. “You can even hate me if you want.” Benny gave you a wry, melancholy sort of smile. “Part of me’s still mad at you, I won’t lie…but there’s no use in it. Not even hating you.”

Even though Benny bowed out, carrying his hurt and his grief on those broad shoulders, letting you go meant letting go of a friend too. He put in his paperwork to transfer out of Firehouse 83.

As he’d told Dean himself that day, and in fact, the last words Benny said to him…

“There you go, Lieutenant. A spot’s just opened up.”

Dean didn’t want to get promoted this way. He felt guilty enough as it was, and not just for Benny leaving the firehouse. Benny recommended Dean to the Chief himself though, saying that if they were going to give someone a Lieutenant’s badge, it may as well be the guy who got a perfect score on his test, and had the natural leadership skills to boot.

To the end, Benny was a gentleman.

Now, Sam beckons his nephew over. Robbie quickly goes to his uncle’s side and puffs his little chest out as he stands proud behind his dad. 

Dean is able to take you in, your beautiful white dress, and everything about you that makes him smile…including the way you smile back at him.

Man and wife is all he hears. It’s all he needs to hear, before he’s pulling you closer by your newly anointed hand. He dips you for a thorough kiss in front of all your family and friends. 

You squeal in surprise, making Dean smile hard enough for his cheeks to hurt. Giggling hard enough to make you tremble, you raise a hand to caress his cheek. But you give him another real kiss after he guides you back up to your feet.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. The words are just for him to hear. Dean pulls back enough to see the truth shining in your eyes. Beautiful.

“Can’t help it, right?” he teases. 

You smile in amusement, but you grab his chin and shake it. 

“You got me,” you reply. “I really, really can’t.”

Your beaming smile softens. Even though the entire room is clapping and hooting and hollering in celebration, in that moment, all you really see is Dean. 

Here in his arms, you know that this is where you were meant to end up. From now on, it’s where you’re meant to be.

AN: From Lisa and Benny to Robbie and everything in between. Dean and the reader certainly aren't perfect in this, but what do you think about how their story unfolded? I truly hope you guys enjoy this one, because I've had so much fun with it. 🥰❤️❤️‍🔥

**As a reminder, One More Day (Dean x Latina Plus-Sized!Reader) comes out on 4/04 - the day after my birthday!~

Until then, please let me know what you thought of If I Stay! 😘 I might write more for these two in the future...

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?"

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

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Dean Winchester Tag List (Part 1):

@luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @winchestergirl2 @deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl @kaleldobrev

@globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdeanwrites @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @my-stories-vault @0ccvltism

@rizlowwritessortof @k-slla @jackles010378 @alwaystiredandconfused @nancymcl

@this-is-me19 @spnwoman @illicithallways @pieandmonsters @deansbbyx

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @cheynovak @jollyhunter

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @aylacavebear @jessjad

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @spnbabe67

@deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused @supernotnatural2005 @redhoodieone

[nakylvr]

hello! can i get thoughts on G!P kats? soo nobody expects that this little first date turns into the first sex and and!

how would the kats react when they find out that it’s their girlfriend first time doing it? (mybe they spot a little bit of blood or mybe you told them that it hurts so bad mid-way) 😊

thanks! also i loveeeee your works 🩵 new fans here!

ooou i gotchu 🙂‍↕️

sophia

she's the one who has a feeling it's your first time before you even say it is, and will ask if it is when she sees your face scrunch up in pain when she pushes into you, halting all her movements. when you admit it and say yes, she immediately becomes more gentle and is asking if you're sure about it (as if she isn't already inside you), and when you say yes she just nods and keeps her movements slow to not hurt you. she's constantly asking if you're doing okay and if you need her to stop, genuinely wanting to make sure you're feeling good. she's telling you how good you're doing and how pretty you look like this, brushing your hair from your face. she makes sure you've came before stopping, even if that means she wasn't able to cum. her main focus is you.

manon

she doesn't really think of it to be honest. she gets a little feeling when she sees your eyebrows scrunch together, but you say you're fine, so she thinks you are. this being said, she's pretty soft in general during the act, so she's already going slow enough so you can adjust to it without even telling her still. it isn't until she looks down and sees a bit of blood that she freezes and looks at you, asking if this was your first time. you just meekly nod with a whimper, and she starts going even slower, too slow almost that eventually you're begging her to go faster and she barely speeds up, not wanting to hurt you at all. she's so praising during aftercare once she's cleaned you up and makes sure you're okay, holding you close and running her hand through your hair.

daniela

genuinely she just thinks you've done it before. you're so good at hiding it in the beginning when she first pushes inside you that she kinda panics when you say it's hurting too much and she stops immediately, asking if you're okay and if she's too big or if she was doing too much. when you confess and tell her it's your first time, she feels so bad, and it's evident on her face that you have to tell her it's okay and that you were just embarrassed and didn't want her to know. she understands but still feels bad for not realizing, asking if you want to stop completely. when you tell her you want to continue she does but is a lot more slow and gentle with you. it's hard for her, but she does her best to keep from pounding into you, trying to make sure you enjoy it while asking you if you're doing okay. she's apologizing afterwards though when she's cleaning you up, mumbling how stupid she feels but feels reassured when you tell her she did good and that it was very enjoyable for you.

lara

she's the other one who has a feeling when she can see you visibly get nervous and shakily undressing yourself. and she straight up asks if this is your first time. you're a little shocked she caught on so fast, but it's not that surprising at the same time given how much she's shown she cares about you. when you tell her yes she just gives a small smile and says for you not to worry and that she'll go slow. she goes so slow when she's pushing in you and her eyes scan your face to make sure you're okay, stopping if she sees even the slightest bit of discomfort come from you. she's so loving the whole time saying how good you're doing, holding onto one of your hands while she goes slow, only speeding up when you ask her to. she's calling you "my angel" "my baby" "my princess" every other minute, always including my in front of it to let you know you're hers with a sweet smile on her face.

megan

she will freak the fuck out because despite it not being her first she just automatically thinks it isn't yours either. you don't say anything and never have, so she never thinks anything of it. but with her size, it hurts for you. even if she's going slow cause she's trying not to bust immediately, it hurts. she's been told that she's big, so when she sees your face contort, she thinks it's like her times with other girls. you still don't say anything, and when she slowly pulls out to thrust back into you she sees blood and literally freaks out. she's pulling out of you immediately, stammering out a mix of apologies and asking if this is your first and freaking out cause she's pulling didn't want to hurt you. you have to reassure her so much that 1, you're okay 2, yes it's your first and 3, that she doesn't need to panic (she still panics). once she's calm she's fine though.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Movie Week [review]

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Yandere Scale: 8/10

Overall Rating: 7/10

Fear does exactly what it's supposed to. Not perfectly by any means, but well enough that I don't mind spending an hour and a half in its world.

A very fun world too - cute fashion, a great score, pleasing cinematography and a male lead who slowly becomes more despicable the longer the film goes on. Alyssa Milano, Mark Wahlberg and Reese Witherspoon look incredible the entire movie. And I guess their acting isn't bad either.

We start off with a man out on a jog. And we know it's going to be a thriller because a) shaky cam and b) very dramatic music just two minutes in. Great start. After that, we're introduced to Nicole (Reese Witherspoon), a high schooler with a slightly strained relationship with her dad and teenage angst lite.

She's cute. The girl next door with a daddy's girl bracelet and a kid brother who loves her. If she didn't have the bad luck of running into a bad man, I'd say things would have worked out just dandy.

But no such luck. Not for you kid.

Enter David.

He walks on screen to audible screams from the audience (me). He's hot. And the way he's introduced is hot. Shady bar, music in the background, leather jacket delinquents playing pool. From the get go, he screams bad boy. Rubbing (read: jerking off) his pool cue - at hip height - while looking at our female lead? C'mon, that's too easy.

I won't go into detail, but they obviously end up in a relationship. And it's hot stuff. At one point, he has his hand up her her skirt while they're on a rollercoaster. Yeah, we all see the symbolism. Coming (down) must be pretty fun on a ride like that, huh Nic?

It's not great the entire movie - their first conversation is stilted and awkward, filled with clichés. But the build up in tension is what does it for me.

There are plenty of little things that tip you off from the get go. David isn't as nice as he seems, not by a long shot.

It starts with a few tense looks between him and Nicole's dad. Just a father being a bit picky, right? Nope. He turns back the office clock so he can have a little more time with Nicole before curfew. He flirts with her best friend. He tells Nicole to, "Get me a coke." Bossy. Commanding.

I'll be honest, if I didn't know the synopsis of the film, I'd say dear old dad was being overly protective. Nope. Those red flags are about as red as they can get.

When things start going off the rails, the movie handles it pretty well. The scenes are decently tense, even though they're missing that little bit of careful handling that would make them terrifying.

As a yandere, David does everything you'd expect. He's manipulative. He's violent. He doesn't know where to draw the line in anything. Oh, and he's hot. Did I mention that already?

He's a Levi's and t-shirt kind of guy, with a great car, a nice voice, and biceps you want to sink your teeth into. When it comes to deranged stalkers, you can do a LOT worse.

The third act is a ball of a time. There's room for it to have been a bit more tense - it suffers from being a little too short, the twists not having enough time to breathe. The pace doesn't feel quick in the so much happening, I'm at the edge of my seat sort of way, but in the oh no, we only have the budget for thirty more minutes of run time sort of way.

Still, it's very enjoyable. David says and does plenty of very yandere things. I'm absolutely stealing some of his lines.

In terms of style, the movie is a knockout. I think it's a big part of what carries my recommendation. The cinematography is really pleasing, with lots of reds and dark greens. Very 'Seattle on a rainy day.' The sound track is totally 90's, with a nice mix of rock, pop and indie. It gives the movie a sense of place and time that exponentially improves the story.

How does it hold up as a piece of yandere media? It doesn't do anything radical or new, but the classics it sticks to are done well enough that it's worth the watch.

Oh, and David is very hot. I don't know if I mentioned that. 

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Day 2 - Secret Obsession (2019)

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Day 4 - The Perfect Guy (2015)

Day 5 - The Boy Next Door (2015)

Day 6 - The Invisible Man (2020)

Day 7 - Til Death Do Us Part (2017)

[eden-writes-stuff]

A/N: This is the ONLY TIME I'm going to write x reader content. I just wanted to see it done right once! Thank you and good bye.

tags: 18+, smut, threesome (m/m/f), dom Remus, wolfstar x reader (except wolfstar actually fuck in this), cum kink, loads of praising, edging, oral, anal, p in v, unprotected sex, double penetration. I also won't be held responsible for any anatomical mistakes in this one.

"He loves giving head so much," Remus groaned, happily grabbing onto Sirus' hair.

"Good for us, because he's fucking amazing at it," you grinned back, wraping your legs around Sirius' waist, pulling him deeper into you. Your mutual boyfriend whined around Remus' dick, grinding harder into you.

A moan escaped your lips before you could stop it. Sirius always got desperate. Every time. And every time you and Remus loved it. It was the perfect addition to his soft but dominant nature, and your submissive but cocky ways.

"Moon- Moony," you breathed, looking up to him. "Fuck him into me?" you sugested. Sirius moaned at the thought, letting his eyes fall shut.

"You like that, huh?" Remus smiled teasingly. "Do you want that?" Sirius nodded as much as he could in his position and halted his movements. Remus' own impatience was revealed as he pulled out of your boyfriend's mouth and quickly made his way behind him. 

Sirius kissed you greedily as Remus opened him up with his fingers. Eventually, he broke off to beg Remus for more. "Please, Moons, I'm ready. Please. Or I'll come right fucking now."

"You wouldn't dare," Remus grinned, softly kissing along his neck. "You're too much of a good boy."

"Such a good boy," you agreed, letting your fingers trail through his raven black hair while Remus pushed himself inside, shoving Sirius only deeper into you at the same time. All of you moaned in unison.

Remus didn't leave much time bevore he wrapped his arms around Sirius, grabbing onto yor hips and started fucking into the beautiful man between you. Sirius burried his face between your breasts, moaning and drawling over your skin, while sloppily moving between Remus' dick and your pussy.

You could feel all the focus it took Sirius not to come into you. "Please, Moony. Please, feels so-o good. She- she's so tight. And you're so b-big! Please let me come," he begged quietly before softly biting into your breast to silence a moan. Groaning, you let your fingers slide into his hair, trying to hold onto something.

Remus was the first to come that evening. His voice deepened into something animalistic while his hands dug deeper into your hips. He buried his teeth into Sirius' neck while spilling into him.

You loved them both and you knew they loved you as well but something inside you always grew just a little jealous when either of them got to take the other's cum while you stayed empty.

"Make her come for me," Remus ordered, pulling out of him and taking his place on the armchair next to your bed.

Sirius looked up hopefully "Do I get to-"

"Not yet. You know what you did, and you need to learn your lesson. Now make our beloved come. She deserves it." He gave you a fond look while lazily stroking along his cock.

Sirius whined, but obeyed. He had stolen some of Remus' chocolate a week before the full moon, and so the two of you had tortured him a little.

Sirius knew he wouldn't be able to obey the command if he kept going like this. He would inevitably come inside you. Your warmth always drove him crazy. Eventually, he flipped you both around, gently pulling out and guiding you toward his face.

You loved the feeling of his tongue. Always eager to draw those lovely moans from your throat. Your hips ground against his mouth, your hands gripped his silky black hair desperately. As always, you were careful to leave some air for him, but Sirius pulled you closer and closer onto him until you were sure he was only breathing you in.

Groaning, you let your head fall back, forcing your eyes to stay open and fixed on Remus, who was watching the two of you in utter bliss, hand moving steadily around his own cock.

He loved watching you two, and you loved being watched by him. The way his eyes trailed over every part of your body made you feel like the most desirable person in the entire world.

Remus watched closely as your moans got louder and your legs started shaking at the feeling of Sirius' cunning tongue inside of you. "'m gonna... fuck, gonna come," you muttered, eyes still on Remus, whose gentle strokes had turned into greedy thrusts into his own fist.

"Come for us. I want you to come all over his face," he ordered.

And who were you to disobey? You made a mess, coming into Sirius' mouth, who very gladly took it all.

Breathless, you relaxed, falling back onto Sirius' stomach. You only had to turn your head to see his painfully hard cock. Gently, you kissed along the whole length, making Sirius groan quietly.

"Can we let him come now? He's been such a good boy," you asked, looking up at Remus. Your boyfriend eyed Sirius suspiciously.

"Did you learn your lesson?" he asked calmly. Sirius nodded quickly.

"Promise. I promise I won't do it again," he insisted. Remus hesitated for a second before nodding and turning to you.

"You didn't get filled up yet, did you?"

"No, I didn't," you agreed, trying to look as innocently as possible.

"I'm sorry, baby. We'll make it up to you right now." He gently traced over your bottom lip before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. A shiver ran down your back at the words. "Think you can take both of us?" he asked softly.

You hesitated but eventually nodded. The thought of it was way better than the fear of the pain. "I can take it," you whispered.

"Our perfect, good girl," Remus answered, pride swelling in his voice. The three of you had trained each other, watched the others grow more confident in their desires, becoming more and more comfortable around each other. Now, you had reached the point where you trusted each other with anything.

Gently, Remus guided you forward into Sirius' arms "We're gonna fill you up now. We're gonna fill you to the brim."

"Thank you, Moony. Thank you-" You were interrupted as Sirius pushed himself inside of you once again, pulling you closer.

Remus only gave you a few seconds to adjust before he fit himself between your legs. All three of you let out loud moans as Remus squeezed himself into you, stretching you almost completely.

Never before had you felt so completely full. It was heavenly.

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good. I love being inside," Remus whispered into your ear, kissing along your neck.

"Please, Moony, just start," Sirius whined beneath you, earning a chuckle from Remus. You were way too overwhelmed to speak.

"I love it when he gets so pathetic," Remus grinned before thrusting into you once, making you scream, tears leaking from your eyes. "Both of you," he added, stroking your back once before taking one of Sirius' hands and kissing it softly. "Keep up with me," he ordered, before starting to move.

It only took a few seconds until you were moaning from the top of your lungs, Remus' rough groans in your ear. Your hands gripped Sirius' shoulders, leaving scratch marks on the soft, light skin. You could feel both of them move in unsteady rhythms inside of you, doing their best not to hurt you while also pleasing you.

It was too much. Both of them at once... It was too much of everything, and you loved every single second of it.

Remus grabbed your hips to keep you steady while him and Sirius shoved their hips against yours; cursing and moaning while you squeezed their dicks some more with every little movement.

At some point, you completely blocked their noises out, only focusing on the feeling and the building orgasm.

Remus praised you soflty, working you through your second high, while Sirius was cursing, thrusts getting more and more sloppy with each of Remus' movements until he was just lying under you, holding you tight while your boyfriend fucked both your brains out.

You didn't need long before your legs started shaking violently from the overstimulation, and you were nothing more than a whimpering mess of tears.

Remus leaned past you to kiss Sirius. "We come together. Gonna fill her up so beautifully, gonna fuck our cum into her," he ordered softly. "She's gonna look so pretty with our cum." Only the thought made Remus moan a little louder and fuck into you a little harder.

You were a moaning, sweating mess when the boys both finally spilled their hot cum into you, making you lose it for the third time today.

Greedily, you took every last drop, sinking your head back against Remus' shoulder. He held you tight as his hips stuttered against you a few times before finally halting.

"You were so good, baby. Taking our cocks like that. You're perfect," he praised you quietly.

Sirius softly stroked over your leg, looking up at you with wonder in his eyes.

[madewithsilk]

lazy sex w/ quanxi

cw: ass tribbing, fingering, messy make out, pussy slapping, some somno

Quanxi always came home from work exhausted. Her eyes were half-lidded, hair a bit disheveled, and just too fucking horny. Two of those were a byproduct of, well, her job. But the way she soaked through her panties was completely your fault. The pictures you sent her with lingerie, audios of the noises your pussy made when stuffed, videos of you sucking your own fingers. She had it all.

Yet when she came home, ready to use your cunt for some relief, you were dead asleep. You were still in the lace-clad lingerie, but your head was dug into a pillow and you laid on your tummy. The blanket hardly draped over your perched ass, making Quanxi groan out of pure desire. It wasn't any new tale that Quanxi enjoyed an active sex life, but a con of it all was constantly needing to get off.

Her hand ran through her own hair, eyes rolling to the back of her head in distress. She was cursing you in her mind right now, for going to sleep knowing how worked up you got her. Quanxi starts unbuckling her belt, not having enough energy to remove her top.

When she's in bed, knees on either side of your thighs, she presses her covered cunt against the curve of your ass. Quanxi moaned, coming to rest her palms on the small of your back. She used that as leverage, beginning to rut against your ass. You didn't wake up for a while till her movements became more erratic, one hand traveling to fist your hair.

She wasn't necessarily rough, rather desperate if anything. You stirred, grunting at every thrust of her hips. "Wha— 'Xi!" You whined, feeling like a flashlight to be used right now. "M'tiiredd–" She cut your complaining off with a loud grunt, pussy gathering more slick by the moment. "Weren't tired when you sent me that nasty shit," She emphasized each word with a plap plap plap.

"Think I need to wear you out more." She spoke matter-of-factly. You wanted to refuse, fight back, sass off, but you craved to be mindless and subservient. All you did was cluelessly nod against the pillow below your head, babbling soft nothings. She loved when you turned your brain off for her.

"Shit, sweetheart, think I'm-" You whined, tongue practically lolling out as you tried to get some friction beneath you. Her pussy spasmed against your ass, hips stuttering while tugging at the makeshift ponytail. She lifted herself after riding her high, a string of slick connecting both of you for a moment. Her arms manhandled you onto your back, prying your legs open without a question asked.

"Greedy cunt, couldn't help but show it off while I was at work." You whimper, hands clawing at her, clinging to her. Your fingertip traced the eyepatch as her gaze was focused on tearing the panties from your figure. "Shouldn't even give you what you want." She says softly with a scoff, eyebrow cocking st your childish giggle. "You always give in, 'Xi." She couldn't tear her eyes away from your gaping hole, begging to be used, stuffed.

Her palm came down on your clit, slapping it with fervor. "Think I can't be a little mean, sweetheart?" She whispers, kissing your neck and smacking your pussy again. Each time, it elicited a yelp. Eyes squeezed shut, lips parted into an O shape. You needed her to fuck you, not whatever this was.

The hot, moist kisses down your collarbone were driving you crazy, body squirming and back arching each time she left a stinging smack on your bundle of nerves. "Say sorry, baby." She encouraged, kissing the corner of your lips. You couldn't even fully get the apology out when she pressed her lips against yours.

The open mouthed kiss, tongue in tongue, along with two of her fingers gathering slick and diving in you, it was all too much. Her pace was relentless, fingers curling into that gummy spot. You moaned into the kiss, forgetting how to kiss back when her th nasty squelching noise played in the background.

She was so useful like this, hoisting one of your legs up slightly to go deeper. She loved the little moans that spilled into her mouth, the kiss borderline lazy. Drool and spit went down your chin, tongues clashing and eyes fluttering. You hardly got a moment to breathe till she felt your walls clenching down on her fingers.

She broke the kiss, desperate to make you cum. She solely focused on that, eyes not moving away from the way your needy cunt sucked her in. "C'mon, sweetheart, give it to me." You wondered if she was talking to you or your pussy.

You gushed on her digits, head thrown back. "I-I'm, fuck, 'Xi ple-pleaseeee," She nodded, reassuring you, validating you as you came down from the orgasm. Her lips kissed your forehead gently, "Wanna show me what you were doing while I was gone, sweetheart?".