#cos he went to dinner with sam every night

[crazykuroneko]

the soulmateism, the codependency?

[awesomerextyphoon]

In From the Cold

Summary: Bucky comes home with little friend he found on a cold winter night. 

Pairing: Bucky x Black Female Reader 

Rating: 16/Teen

Word Count 1.2K

A/N: Some of the words are in Igbo with translation. Thanks to @mrsmischief209​ for the beta!

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“I hope Bucky gets back soon. The food’s getting cold,” your worried eyes spied the clock as thick flurries of snow blanketed the ground. 

“Don’t worry Mommy!” your daughter, Obioma, reassured you from the dinner table, “Daddy will be back soon! We aren’t being chased by bad men anymore!” 

“I know, I know Oma Nwam (dear),” you murmured as you kissed your daughter’s forehead, “It’s just that I worry.” 

And who could blame you? 

Ever since you met James three years ago, people have been after you. 

It started when you wanted to go to Trader Joe’s for movie snacks. You wanted to reward yourself for a grueling week of work and for picking up your co-workers slack again. The bright red of the store sign graced your skin when you heard a blast. 

The vestiges of HYDRA was looking for their Winter Soldier and they were done being tactful. 

Everything was a flurry of reds, oranges, yellows, and black as people ran for shelter. You almost vomited when you saw a man get sliced in half by falling debris. 

You plummeted to the ground after get the wind knocked out of you by the frantic crowd of panicked civilians. Closing your eyes in defeat, you waited for Death’s sweet embrace. But it never came. Instead, strong arms carried you to safety. 

You were saved by an angel who insists on being called otherwise. Though he did accept your offer to bum off your couch for a few days. 

Soon you realized that the Adonis who saved you was the one and only Bucky Barnes. You giggled at his bashful expression when you called him out on it. Here’s a man who battled against Captain America on equal footing, but couldn’t look you in the eye at a small question. 

It didn’t take long for the two of you to become friends in between running from HYDRA, Secret US Government Organizations, and assholes who wanted his vibranium arm. 

–––––

The first kiss came as an accident. 

You were watching Lily & Stitch and Bucky was having a moment connecting to Stitch and you to Lilo. 

Bucky turned to you and wondered,“Do you think…I could change? Become a better person?”

You frowned at the tears welling up in his eyes. Here was a man who was nearly abandoned as POW experiment by his nation in during WW2 before being saved by his friend. A man who then was mind raped for nearly TWENTY YEARS until those fucking dobbers got their ‘fist’. A man who was trapped in his own mind for decades committing unspeakable crimes against humanity and the planet for the powers who wanted to ‘guide the people’. A man who never got to say goodbye to his loved ones robbed of nearly every chance to find peace. 

A man who despite everything he’s been through, he still wants do good and protect others. 

“Bucky, you are so much more than what HYDRA made you. You’re my angel,” you declared as you went in to kiss him on the cheek. 

––––

It took about two months of Sam and Nat ribbing both of you for being idiots to start dating. Barely two dates in and Steve caught you making out in the car like a couple of horny teenagers. 

Sam got a picture of it and sent it to Natasha. 

You gave birth to Obioma eight months later. 

A few months after giving birth to your beautiful baby girl, the US Gov’t finally backed off when Nat threatened to dump info on several redacted projects to the public. 

For the first time in nearly a century, Bucky was at peace. 

Then your daughter started walking at five months and talking at seven. Plus she crushed a hard plastic toy in her chubby little hands which caused your anxiety to spike for a bout two seconds before remembering Nat strong-armed the US Gov’t into getting off your backs.

––––

“Mommy! Mommy!” Obioma exclaimed, running to the front door, “Daddy’s home!” 

“Hello sunshine!”, Bucky picked up his adorable daughter,” How was your day?” 

“I went to Aunty Nat’s place for playtime and to make cookies! Then I went to Uncle Bruce for studying and met his cousin Jennifer!” 

“You met his cousin Jennifer? What was she like?”

“She’s really nice and fun! Plus, she taught me how to get out of taking a quiz!” Obioma jumped out her Nnam’s (dad’s) embrace bouncing up and down with unrestrained glee. 

“What did she say?” 

“She said to get Auntie Nat-“ 

“She said to get Nat to talk to Bruce in a closet.” You interrupted not wanting a repeat of this afternoon. You had a quick sidebar with cousin Jen. 

“Huh.” 

“Hey Daddy, what’s in your jacket?” Obioma stopped jumping long enough to notice the small lump near the top Bucky’s jacket. 

“Well sunshine,” Bucky knelt in front of the toddler,”This little one,” He slowly unzipped his jacket,”was lost and decided to give our family a chance.” 

Bucky unfurled his large hands to reveal,”Is that a snowball, Daddy?” 

“No Oma,” you giggled,”It’s a kitten.” 

You didn’t know what to make of the next few minutes. Your little Oma backed away from Bucky, afraid of hurting the kitten. 

No doubt she’s heard some of the slander peddled by sad, pathetic mothers with way too much time on their hands. 

She took on step out to your husband and the pure white ball of fur terrified of hurting the little ball of fur. 

“It’s okay, Sunshine,”Bucky coaxed with an outstretched hand,”Come and say Hello.” 

Obioma carefully stretched out her chubby little hand to pet the tiny kitty. 

Her eyes widened with joy when the tiny feline crept into her hands. You were able to sneak in a pic for Nat.

“Where did you find her James?”

Bucky pulled the kitten and his Sunshine into his arms,“I was walking home when a heard a ruckus a few blocks away. Turns out some punks ganged up on this little one.” 

“Oh no! Poor Kitty!” Obioma exclaimed with tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 

“I know, sunshine,”Bucky mumbled into her forehead wiping away her tears, “But this little one was so brave! She refused to back down, but she needed a little help. So I walked up to them and they ran off. Then she ran up to my shoulder like a tree, or a mountain.”

“A mountain?” 

“Yes, Sunshine. Poor little kitty was scared. Probably the first time anyone’s helped her.”

“Can she stay with us, Daddy?” 

Bucky flashed you his ‘playful DILF smile’, “I dunno. It’s gonna be a lot of responsibility taking care of her.”

“Pwlease!” Your daughter flashed the Puppy Dog Eyes and Pout guaranteeing her victory. Both of you have a hard time saying no to her as it is. 

“Alright, Oma,” Bucky passed your daughter to you awaiting arms,”What do you want to call our travel little kitty?” 

“Um, Auntie Nat talked about the Awlps at story time. Mommy, what was the word she used?” 

“Alpine, Nwam.” 

“Alpine!” 

“Alpine it is!” Bucky declared before rubbing his nose against Obioma’s.

“Well, now that we have welcomed our newest member to the family, let’s go eat. The food’s getting cold.” 

“Yay!” Obioma ran to the dining room. 

–––

“My kind angel saved a kitty this evening. That deserves a reward,”You whispered leaning to kiss Bucky only for you to jerk your head , “But, you didn’t call and we were so worried.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

“I know, I know. I wonder how I’ll reward you?” 

Bucky chuckled and kissed your neck,”I’ll think of something.” 

[davidkarofskyindie]

addictiontolust (Sam/Harry)

@addictiontolust

Harry was beaming as he took the last mouthful of the fancy dinner, looking over to his date as the final morsel went down his throat. Their third date had been just as magical as the first two, there was something about Sam that Harry just couldn't get enough of and every one of their dates had been pretty much perfect. They'd had one little deal though, they'd hold back their lustful urges until the third date which had been hard for Harry because he'd wanted to drop to his knees for Sam halfway through the first date but they'd made it. He beckoned for the waitress and handed over his card so they could pay for the meal and then reached over to gently hold Sam's hand "So... your place or mine?" he asked with a little smile, rubbing his thumb over the back of Sam's hand "Cos I swear all night, all I've been thinking about is getting you back home and finally getting to worship you like the god you are and I don't know how much longer I can behave" he admitted with a little blush showing in his cheeks, unable to look away from Sam even after his card was returned and they were finally able to leave.

[canonicallysoulmates]

J2 Gold Panel Vegascon 2023

Going to jump right into questions, with regards to Radio Company what gets written first melody or lyrics? Jared jokingly answers that he just starts humming in the shower and right when he's washing under his left armpit he knows it's gonna be good 😆

Actual answer, Jensen and Steve usually come up with a melody and then start humming where the words might go and from there they try to come up with the lyrics that fit the melody. Jared says he was actually listening to a podcast that morning where they were talking about Paul McCartney creating Get Back and they said he was walking around humming the melody he had in his head and that's how he went figuring out the lyrics.

Jensen says that's probably the most common way of doing it, that writing a poem and then trying to put music to those words would be more difficult. x

Without mentioning the cast and crew, what do they miss most about being Sam and Dean? And what was the hardest part of them to drop for their next character? Jared needs a minute to think about his answer so Jensen says he'll answer first; the first thing he did after SPN was The Boys and the thing he was most fearful of was using Dean's voice, that luckily he had Kripke and Phil Sgriccia watching his back and he remembers there might have been a couple of takes where Sgriccia had to step in and point out to him he was doing Dean's voice. But he'll take Kripke's word that he never saw Dean in Soldier Boy so that was the pat on the back that he was looking for but the voice was a hard thing to drop.

As for the thing he misses the most, it's hard for him to come up with something other than the camaraderie of a set that's been working together for the better part of two decades. That one of his favorite things about what he does for a living is the morning set walk, getting to the trailer and then walking over to maybe get some breakfast and saying hi to the catering crew and seeing the morning kind of come to life as everybody gets ready, that feeling and the camaraderie that exists between the whole crew and the cast, and everyone gearing up for a day that's going to be at least 12 to 14 hours which is what SPN was- everybody was gearing up for battle and he misses those morning moments with people that he knew so well; he still gets that he got it on Big Sky, he's gotten to know those people but it will be hard to ever know their crew as well as they knew their SPN crew.

Jared concurs, he says that he does have 2 and a half to 3yrs of experience with his Walker cast and crew so that's starting but on SPN it wasn't just knowing somebody's name or what they did for a living it was knowing when they got married or when they lost someone, they really knew the people they worked with and that's a product of time. He will say that for him on Walker he gives kudos to Fricke and Fahey who were kind of co-running the writers' room at times because he felt out of sorts but during the first season of Walker, Cordell is also out of sorts so it kind of worked. He felt weird as Jared but Cordell also felt weird.

Something random for him that has been an adjustment is that Walker doesn't have long setups, they don't shoot studio mode often where there's a bunch of lighting so on SPN he and Jensen would shoot a scene then they'd have like half an hour to do whatever, on Walker they're always ready because it's not so crisp if there's a shadow on your face or you're partially obscured by another actor it's not a big deal. So a day of work on Walker is shorter but it's kind of a sprint, on SPN they would shoot 14hrs, sometimes 16, Bugs was around 18 they even had a third lunch cause if you're doing a night shoot and only have the location for a day you have to get it done.

Jensen brings up that they never referred to any meal on set as dinner it was either lunch or second meal no matter what time they were actually eating, and Jared adds that every year, at least once a year they'd be eating "lunch" at 1am. Breakfast would be at 6pm and lunch would be at midnight.

Jensen also mentions there's also things they probably can't talk about, things they kind of grandfathered in because they had started so long ago, when they started SPN they were shooting on 35mm film, he doesn't know of any show that films on actual film anymore. But there were things they started to do early on that established that's just their behavior that no other cast could get away with for example back when they started the show social media wasn't what it is today so their contracts didn't include any SM clauses but when SM became more popular, around 2012 every season they would have a piece of paper in their trailer that were the SM guidelines and they were supposed to sign it, it was a commitment between them and the studio and the network that they would follow certain protocol via their personal SM accs. And every year they would crumble it up and toss it away, didn't sign it once.

They got left to their own devices and Jensen comments that's something he misses because now that they're on new shows they're having to follow the rules a little more closely while it was the wild west on SPN. x

I'm just going to point out what I think all of us have noticed which is that the boys SM has changed over the past couple of years sometimes a lot of the times not even sounding like them. Just something to think about in connection to this comment Jensen made about now having to follow the rules more closely.

Jensen reveals he would have scotch tastings at lunch, Jared says if it was like midnight on a Friday. He also shares that for the first few seasons for their birthdays, they would get each other an entire keg of beer put it in the trailer, and just drink it all day while working throughout the day they'd go and get themselves some beer like they were in college and everyone in production just pretended not to see what they were doing. But as they got older the amount went decreasing until it was just a six-pack.

Another thing Jared brings up is that because they filmed in Canada they don't recognize American Thanksgiving which is an important holiday for the boys so during s1 they were scheduled to work the full week and they were like that's cool but we're going to be watching the Cowboys game, they were shooting like an hour away from Van and their plan was to find the nearest place that had the game on and go there to watch it so what production did was get a portable satellite dish so they could watch the game in their trailer and stay closer to set but then they were like "why don't we have this all the time?" and so from that moment on they had TV in their trailer, and people would be surprised by that even Stephen Amell was surprised, sometimes their teams would even have to get there early to set up the satellite.

Also, Jared makes it clear that while they sound like heathens they always got their work done on time, they always knew their lines, knew their marks, hung their wardrobe, all that stuff. x

By the way, them reminiscing and sharing stories takes up a huge chunk of the panel, they only got through 4 questions, but it is one of the best panel segments I have seen in a very long time, I loved hearing these men share some of the crazy shit they were able to get away with I highly recommend seeing it for your self.

Would they be on Hot Ones, and how well do they think they would do? They both immediately say yes! And Jared gets all excited because he became obsessed with Hot Ones, and met the host, Sean Evans, in the green room of a UFC fight.

Jared saw him across the room and got all giddy, and baby girl is about to break into giggles remembering that they had eye contact for a moment, so he goes to Evans and tells him he's a really big fan and that he'd love to be on the show and it turns out they've tried to get both of them on the show! And Jared did not know that! So he was like "what???!!! why don't we do it?" and after that Jared went online and ordered a bunch of super hot sauces and he ordered one called Dave's Ghost Pepper hot sauce (the name is actually Ghost Pepper Jolokia Sauce by Daves Gourmet. Neither Jared nor I are responsible for anybody who decides to try that sauce.) which is supposed to be really spicy and he decided he was going to train and he put it some on a plate and dipped a chip in and got a bunch and everything above his clavicle started draining. For an hour or two he couldn't do anything he was a snotty, teary, drooly mess. Milk my boy. Milk. Or another dairy product, he had too much hot sauce so it wouldn't take the full burn away but it would have helped. Also, he's so lucky that didn't result in getting mouth ulcers. But he'd love to do it, and he'd like to do it with Jensen and MC, and he thinks he'd do alright.

Jensen says he would not tap out that he'd just let his face melt off. x

Last question, what has been the best part about wrapping up such a momentous project? For Jared, it's that he finally started to allow himself to be proud of it 🥹

Something he and Jensen talked about for 15 and a half years is that when you're in it, when you still have a job to do you can't really toot your own horn or pat yourself in the back, but now with it in the rearview mirror he's like yeah that was pretty fucking cool, we did work our asses off, we did grow up a lot, we did learn this and that, and make these friendships. At the time he was like don't tell me how cool it is cause I still have to wake up and do eight pages or watch this video on a fight I have to do but now that it's "behind" them he can go 'man that was cool'.

Jensen was proud of the fact that they went out while still firing on all cylinders. That one of his biggest fears was that the show would start to decline in its quality and that it was hard to still be performing and telling a story and loving the characters and playing at that level and walk away but something he and Jared had talked about is that they didn't want to stick around until it started to decline or until the audience lost interest and they started caring less and not putting in the effort. He still feels like they went out after winning the Super Bowl and that's something he's proud of and he thinks it's one of the reasons why they can still talk about it because it wasn't dying, it was still very much alive, it still had a lot to give, and that it still is giving, it's kind of living on through the cons and he thinks that's just setting up the return at some point.

I don't agree with Jensen POV regarding the quality of the show but I'm really glad that he's so proud of the work that he and Jared put forward because he should be; the writing might have gone down in later seasons but these two always gave it their all and put their best work forward.

Jared adds that something he tells his kids when they're upset about losing a game is: did you try your best? He is very competitive with himself, he just wants to be the best he can be and do the best he can so if he gets home one night and he's won whatever game but didn't give it his best he feels worst than if he had lost and done his best. He'll never beat Lebron James in a one-on-one game but if he works really hard and he can maybe dribble a couple times without him stealing it and dunking on him he'll lose but he'd have done the best he could do, and he'll say this he and Jensen are both aware that some episodes were not as good as others but every day, every scene, every line they gave it everything they had. Yes, you did baby. x

J2 Gold Panel Vegascon 2023

[lisalay00]

Our 4th of July Hero-Steve Harrington

Our 4th of July hero 1/?

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

‘Hey sloth, get your ass down from my couch.’ Lucas groaned when took a sip of the Coke following a disgusting burping sound. I squeeze my nose in disgust; I grabbed the tape on the table to throw right up to his head. Meanwhile, Max went into the living room with a huge bag, rummaging it one hand with a tired face.

‘I'm tired of your fights, you guys!' She landed the bag, the sound echoed throughout the room accompanying the old fan sound. Mike needs to convince his family to buy a new one. Last time Dustin lost his balance and it was the only one standing for him. Steve's laughter leaked out in my mind I shook my head and tried to focus her.

‘Tonight we have girls’ night. Don’t tell me you forget again.’  I grabbed the Coke from Lucas's hands. I couldn’t handle his sound anymore. I turned to her when I threw the Coke out the window. Lucas screamed out rushing to the window. I smiled devilishly.

‘As if I am a huge fan of girl nights’ she rolled her eyes. She grabbed one end and tried to stretch it as much as possible. Lucas attempted to give a helping hand but she bounced off with an angry gaze. He trembled and stepped back.

Girl’s Night a classic is among Max, El, Chrissy, and the last member Nancy. And I was the one who forcefully attended the full-taken girl company. Every time I gave my all effort to create an excuse but I would find myself sitting on the bed and listening to their problems with their boyfriends. And bingo, I am the only one haven’t been taken yet.

They tried their best to do so, at first they created a blind date and told me that was a school dinner. I'd got frozen when I saw Sam sitting on the table with flowers. Flowers!

It wasn’t enough. Max tried to be Cupid. However, the arrow had stuck in the wrong place. As expected, she’d talked to Billy before our prom night. I was sandwiched between his Camaro and him. He was too drunk and he confessed everything inside of him. And it was not a fairly lovely Juliette story. He thought me Sandy from science class. She was passing there and she heard her name, he was yelling in my face. I found myself watching them aside from the park when they were eating each other.

Luckily, he moved back to California and I don’t have to be ashamed at least if I do not remember them at night.

And the current aim now was the one whom I was scared of the most. I’ve tried my best since then, even I took dinner with Jason and it was terrifying, just a terrifying memory.

Actually, He was not unexpected.

Steve Harrington.

It'd been thrown on the table by Dustin, it was February 14. I love the day so much because they are mostly busy with themselves. But this year they made the stupidest decision and gathered together at Dustin’s radio tower. I wanted to dig into the spot I was sitting. I remember his watermelon-covered mouth and his smile at me. Everyone was there, except Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, and Christy. That means the most dangerous gathering ever for me. For four months I tried my best to stay away from him, I started to work with Eddie's uncle on motorcycle repair. It was so out of a girl's job but I love working with him. The more the better, I was quite apart from them.

I couldn’t feel the feverish anger on them or blame them to try their best to find someone for me. However, I don’t know how long I keep this feeling aside. All I can just keep them because when they find out, that is the day I die.

Eddie’s Uncle was out of town for a couple of months and he decided to close it for a short term. So that means I was unemployed until fall.

They started throwing their love arrows at me a couple of weeks.

Lucas grabbed another Coke can; I took it from his hands swiftly and thanked him for open. I took a sip when he kicked the empty D&D box on the ground. Eddie went in of nowhere.

Suddenly, the idea came to my mind causing the Coke to get into my throat. Our eyes met with Max who was finally zipped the bag. I coughed but I could talk.

‘Isn’t the fourth of July today?’

Eddie’s concern slowly faded, he sighed at me with a tired face.

‘So?’ Max mumbled.

‘What? It’s an important day for our count…’

Max’s hand covered my mouth I shockingly blinked, when did she reach here? Flew or something.

‘You are coming tonight, no excuse!’ She grabbed the bag and left us in Dustin’s living room.

I rolled my eyes and raised my finger to the boys who were sitting like angels.

Don’t bite it.

‘Everything’s your fault, why the heck happen these girls decide to stand against you!’ I roared as my eyes rimmed between the three. 

‘Mike started all of them and disappeared out of hell .’ Lucas mumbled. I sighed the three stupid Dustin suddenly stood up collided his hands, and kneeled in front of me.

‘I beg you Suzie came here too please do something, save us!’ I scrunched my nose as his voice cracked at the last word. Then Lucas kneeled beside Dustin and pushed him aside.

‘Please you are our hero today!’ My eyes widened Eddie followed them and kneeled on my feet I groaned in pain kick him to the couch.

‘You are a Fourth of July hero come on you got this!’ Eddie screamed out, rubbing his waist.

‘Fourth of July Hero!’ They cheered together I covered my ears frantically when they got higher.

‘Okay alright just shut up!’ I rolled my eyes, a grin landed on my face. I slapped my forehead as I grabbed the Coke on the table, and headed to the door.

I screwed up.

They were all team up feverishly singing Fourth of July songs and they were so drunk. I was the only one who didn’t drink. My eyes landed on the beer-filled cups on the table I sighed.

Nancy turned to me and yelled at me as if I was far away from them.

‘Why are you sitting here?’ She suddenly started to cry. Shit, she was literally drunk, and drunk Nancy means emotionally attacking you.

I rushed to them and put a fake smile on my face.  She held my shoulder and pushed me in the middle of the circle. I turned to their vicious smiles.

‘Today it’s your day!’ Max cheered while holding the cup in my hand. My eyebrow arched, I looked at the beer-filled cup and our eyes met.

‘You are only not taken here.’ She smiled when Nancy entered with a bottle. When did she sober up?

I made sat down on the ground and she landed the bottle in the middle of us. Damn, how did I let them gather here? If Steve found out, he tore us into thousand pieces with Nance. When she sipped the glass I take back my thoughts. He’s going to kill me only.

I took the cup from El’s hand she turned her angry gaze on me, and I shrugged my shoulders.

‘I don’t let you drink sorry!’ She tried to refuse to grab the cup back but Max’s voice interrupted us. She pointed to Chrissy who looks like waiting for the moment her entire life. She rolled the bottle and it stopped at El. I attempted to grab the cup again but Nancy held my elbow and sat me on the ground harshly.

‘Okay, you two don’t drink!’ She pointed to two teenagers when Max was about to insist she grinned.

‘If you drink this cup, why not?’ She pointed the cup in front of me half spilled on the ground. I looked at El was already looking at me. I grabbed the cup and raised my finger at her.

‘If I see take an even small sip, I’ll kill you!’ I uttered as she nodded frantically. I turned to Max, she’d already thrown the cup aside in the room.

‘Alright, I start!’ Max crumbled in front of me and I momentarily leaned back when she came closer right to my face. Seriously she started to scare me for some reason.

‘You like someone, you know?’

‘Are you serious? I should have known that!’ I attempt to stand up but her words drifted me to my place.

‘Steve? Maybe…’ My head frantically spanned, she stood up and opened her two sides.

‘Maybe I should call him and chirp something.’

‘You got the phases your brother, God shut up!’ I mumbled she walked to the other side of the room, grabbed the handset, and looked at me.

‘You don’t know his number, damn stop blackmailing me!’

‘Oh I am not sure, I guess.’ She looked at Nancy, my stomach jumped to my heart. I got up quickly and hastily took back my balance, one of the cups fell to the ground, beer scent spread to the room.

‘So you like him?’ She rolled up the phone to the other side of the table and climbed on it. I jumped on the beer river, but I missed the other one. I dodged another falling. I raised my finger to her.

‘Stop this no sense, Max!’ She flipped over the table when all the junk fell over the ground. God, her room turned into a battlefield. She started to dial the number looking at the paper in her hand, Nancy and Chrissy set a fresh wall in front of me. I rimmed the room and quickly noticed the bookshelf on the wall.

I grabbed one of the books maybe the only books she had. I threw it out to them. She dodged it to grab it with a smile formed on her face following the other book.

Then a door knock interrupted the world war third, I turned to quite surprised faces at me.

I walked down the stairs silence was killing me now even though it was the most beautiful thing in the world. I grabbed the doorknob but hesitated to open it weirdly. I was pretty getting used to kind of girl’s nights ended up when one of the main topics of gossip barged into the company.

A glass-shattered sound took me back again; I heard groans and Jonathan’s mumbles. When I heard my name I hastily opened the door. The last person I hoped to be standing in front of me and so drunk.

‘Steve?’

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[lorelodge]

♡ Dean & Crowley

Send me a ♡ plus a ship and I'll tell you... // @shieldretired & @hellceo

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙰𝚂𝙺𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃?

Does turning your crush into a demon and running off for five months count as "asking out"? Let's say yes. Definitely Crowley. But he's a smooth son of a witch. To this day Dean has no idea they were dating.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚆𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙸𝙽 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝙺𝙸𝚂𝚂?

Crowley, because even without inhibitions Dean was so deep in the closet that he nearly reached Narnia. The kiss happened during an orgy. Dean was drunk having a good enough time that his immediate reaction wasn't to punch Crowley in the face. Turns out getting kissed by boys is just as nice as getting kissed by girls. Who would have thought.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙶𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙽𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚂?

They've both given each other nicknames. Dean is Squirrel and Crowley is Boris or, occasionally, Daphne.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙺𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝙰𝙻𝚂?

Dean. He is secretly loves to watch cooking shows and will try his hand at recipes when time allows. He usually only brings out the apron and spatula on special occasions but he's a good cook. Dean will make breakfast or dinner for the entire bunker, Crowley included. They have "family meals". Sometimes Rowena joins. It's definitely not awkward at all.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴 𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙲?

Dean will swear up and down that he has the superior music tastes with his classic rock and R&B. But somehow Taylor Swift has been blasted through the Impala speakers more than once and it's 100% Crowley's influence. (That said, mun is going to go ahead an interject here and say it's Dean. Classic rock beats Swift every day of the week.)

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙷𝙾𝙶𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙴𝙳?

Crowley's mongrel pups Juliette and Charlotte.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚆𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃?

Does it count as waking up if you never went to sleep to begin with? If so, Crowley.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙴𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙵𝙵𝙴𝙴?

Sam. He also drinks all the coffee like the caffeine addict he is. Occasionally Dean manages to swoop in and steal a cup, but usually he's just stuck drinking beer for breakfast.

𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙶 𝚂𝙿𝙾��𝙽?

Dean. I said what I said.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝚄𝙿 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚃?

Crowley, because, again, he doesn't need sleep. He does however text Dean at the wildest hours of the night. Dean's sleep schedule is ass, especially when they're working a case so it's not uncommon for him to get a response even if it's 3-4am.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙲𝙷𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳?

Crowley reached for Dean's hand once during sex while Dean was still a demon. Demon!Dean's reaction was so scarring that Crowley hasn't initiated anything like that since. Shockingly Dean will, although not usually hand holding. More like small acts of physical contact, often without entirely realizing it.

𝚆𝙷𝙾'𝚂 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝙽 𝙾𝙵 𝙿𝙳𝙰?

Crowley. Mostly because he's a little shit that likes to play chicken with the rest of the bunker finding out. Dean will leave whatever crevice they were making out in and then instead of waiting 15 minutes like he's supposed to Crowley will come out immediately after. It's the worst kept "secret" in the bunker.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚂𝙽𝙾𝚁𝙴𝚂?

The hellhounds.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙶𝙴𝚃𝚂 𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙻𝚈?

Dean. Neither of them are the poster children for anger management but Dean is definitely the one more likely to get riled up.

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙸𝙽𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂 𝚂𝙴𝚇?

Dean, but then he pretends like it's all Crowley's doing and that he actually doesn't want to be there. He's just 'ugh, gross, a demon. I guess I have no choice but to fuck him so he'll leave me alone.'

𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙰𝚂𝙺𝚂 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙰𝙶𝙴?

Crowley asked Dean to be his co-ruler of hell, does that count? Let's say yes.

𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴'𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚈 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂:

𝙰 𝚁𝙴𝙶𝚁𝙴𝚃 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝚁𝙴𝙶𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁𝚂:

I don't actually think Dean has any regrets regarding Crowley, to be honest. Maybe you could say he regrets that Crowley broke out of that bunker and sacrificed himself, but even then that's not completely true. Dean tries not to look back and say "what if" because, well, that ain't about to change anything. If anything he was just pissed at God for not bringing anyone (including Crowley) back.

I would also say that after Crowley was brought back there was a sense of 'okay he's one of us now' by Dean that wasn't completely there before.

𝙸𝙵 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚈 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙻𝙳 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴 𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶:

Dean would put Crowley in a full cowboy getup.

𝚃𝙷𝙴𝙸𝚁 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚂 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙾𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙾 𝙼𝚈 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴:

Acts of service & time spent together. Outside of Sam there aren't many people Dean can readily rely on, but Crowley is definitely one of them. For someone who so often carries the world on his shoulders, to know that Crowley will come through (come hell or high water) is a relief. It's why, despite not intending to, Dean began to trust Crowley even if he didn't always trust his intentions or motivations.

[ladylilithprime]

Welcomed Back By The Lights

Series: Fluff Is My Jamstiel

Fandom: Supernatural: 

Pairing: Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel)

Rating: General

Tags/Warnings: Witch Sam Winchester, Hunter Novak Brothers, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Brief Allusions to Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff

Summary: Sam Winchester-Novak will not start worrying about his husbands being late returning from a hunt until they're actually late. His goddaughters are very helpful at distracting him from worrying anyway.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 21: Tender

Read on AO3

DINNER TIME CAME and went. The empty places at the kitchen table were filled by two bright-eyed little girls, aged seven and four, who had negotiated the night's intended meal of pasta prima vera with grilled chicken breast down to buttery noodles with lightly steamed broccoli and dino chicken nuggets. None of them commented on the two plates that went into the oven to be kept for later, just in case, and the girls were mostly distracted by the prospect of honeyed blackberry pie for dessert.

"And what's the rule about having pie for dessert?" Sam Winchester-Novak asked his goddaughters with mock-seriousness as he held their plates at the ready.

"Don't tell Uncle Dean we made pie or he'll eat the whole thing," Samantha and Tylene Moore chorused amid grins and giggles.

"Exactly right," Sam praised as he handed over their plates and forks with a grin of his own, inwardly cackling at the inevitable future moment when his little co-conspirators would slip up and say that in front of his brother. Only once had Dean eaten the entire pie that had originally been made to share among the whole family, but Sam was determined to never let him forget it.

Once the pie was eaten, Sam sent the girls off to brush their teeth and get changed for bed while he lit the porch lanterns and checked the locks on all the doors except the front. He resolutely did not look at the clock as he rejoined the girls in the living room where they all curled up together on the couch with Bones at their feet for Story Time.

The book that came out for Story Time wasn't a mass-published volume with glossy pages and evenly typed and printed words and page numbers. In fact, it wasn't published at all. One of Sam's "network contacts", Andy Gallagher, had gotten into traditional book binding a while back and made several different-sized blank books with stained pages and real sheepskin leather embossed covers. Everyone local who was in the "network" had gotten at least one, and Andy dropped a new stack off every few months for Sam to sell as an "extra" in his tea and herb shop.

This book was a collaborative effort that went back and forth with the girls, started by Sam when Sammi was born and added to by the girls' parents and various adoptive aunts and uncles around Palo Alto. Each story was made up, sometimes on the spot and later transcribed with questionable faithfulness to the telling, the words handwritten into the pages with care for legibility across different handwritings and pens. Sometimes a little sketched illustration accompanied a story, and the three which had been added by the girls' mother had ended up with scrolling painted illuminations because Jess was determined not to waste her art history degree despite running a cafe as her day job.

It was to one of these three stories that Sam turned that night, knowing Tylie tended to need a reminder of her mother still on nights she slept away from home. Sammi had requested a story about dragons, so Sam turned to the second story and began to read about the little dragon who lived in the woods and was trying to learn to fly all by himself. He had just reached the part of the story where the little dragon tried diving off the cliff by the sea with his little wings open to catch the wind when he felt the wards chime against his awareness, followed shortly by the sound of the door and a pair of familiar, much-missed voices calling out a greeting.

"Uncle Cas! Uncle Jimmy!"

Story Time was abandoned in favor of the girls leaping up and racing to give their newly-returned uncles welcome home hugs. Sam and Bones followed with only slightly less haste, Sam visually tracking his husbands' movements and range of motion (Cas dislocated his shoulder again, Jimmy's being careful of his ribs) before he finally got close enough to claim his own hugs and kisses.

"Welcome home," he chuckled, releasing them to let Bones get her due greeting. "You're just in time to finish up Story Time and help get these two into bed."

"One of these days we'll remember not to take the PCH on a Saturday," Jimmy groaned.

"No we won't," Cas groaned back. "Because that would mean there was actually a faster road north from LA."

Sam laughed, because it was expected and because he knew Cas was right and they would probably inevitably be late returning again because of the traffic on the Pacific Coast Highway, but so long as they always returned to him he could put up with them being late.

Especially when they took over Story Time and did the voices.

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead In a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 20

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years by the time his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

You can also read this on AO3. If you don’t want to wait for new chapters, the complete story is on Patreon for only $4 with bonus stories! If you’re enjoying the story and want to support me in other ways, consider dropping me a message in my inbox or reblogging this post!

The following Monday, Alex was wasting time in the staff room with Martin. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the stained, slightly-leaky pot that nearly burned Alex every time he tipped it over for a mediocre, burnt serving of poorly-roasted grounds. They were a very successful business that raked in a lot of money every year. They should have been able to update some of their appliances. It was just one of his many gripes that he forgot about once his paycheck came through.

“Then Sam actually found that coffee in Target this weekend and was like shit. It’s supposed to be sold out everywhere at these bougie shops—and it’s just in stock at Target? She bought three bags before anyone else noticed.”

Alex didn’t mention that coffee had an expiration date. Even if it wasn’t pre-ground, if it was still the beans, coffee didn’t stay good forever. How long would it take them to go three bags? Surely, not quickly enough.

“So, did she make the tiramisu? Was it everything TikTok promised it would be?” Alex asked.

“She hasn’t made it yet. She wanted to save it for guests. Anyway, this is us asking if you and Marcus want to join us Thursday for the Tiramisu debut. Kris and Clara will be there.”

“I’ll have to check if Marcus is free, but I think we’d both be down if we can make it.”

Alex was pleased to get another invitation. He could start looking forward to regular after-work hangouts to get him through the week.

He would have to cough up more money for Damián to go with him, but he was willing to do it for another night with Damián. He would give a year’s wages to Damián if it meant he was getting to spend so much time with him. Maybe he’d keep hiring him after the party. Or maybe that would be weird.

You down for another night with Martin and Sam this Thursday?

Hold on let me send you some nudes.

Alex waited for whatever was coming, knowing full well he was not going to get a lewd picture of Damián. At least he hoped not. Sometimes Damián struggled with knowing that people worked at 1 pm on Mondays.

But even then, Damián wouldn’t send nude pictures of himself to Alex of all people. They weren’t actually dating.

A couple of seconds later, a professional picture of a bowl of ramen was sent through. Nudes. Noods. Noodles. Alex got it. He didn’t laugh.

Can we get ramen for dinner tonight? I just found this new place, and it looks so good.

Of course! Can you answer my question about Thursday?

I would 100% be down to see them again, but I have a client :( Let me know if they want to do any other night, I’m free a few nights this week.

Once he and Damián went their separate ways, Alex hoped that and Martin could keep up some type of friendship—that he wasn’t only valuable to Martin and Sam because he was part of a couple.

“Sorry.” Alex spoke while typing out his reply to Damián. In hindsight, it was a bad idea. He should have put all of his focus on either conversation. “Damián has to work.”

“Damián?”

Alex looked up. Martin was throwing him a confused smile.

Shit.

His face went numb.

“Uh.” Alex didn’t know how to correct himself. It was too late. “Marcus. Marcus has to work.”

“You said Damián,” Martin said. He laughed a little. “Is Marcus his work name? That’s okay. I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah! When he hired him, we assumed he wasn’t giving out his real name. But you kept calling him Marcus, and I started to think you guys just weren’t comfortable with anyone knowing his real name yet. I won’t tell anyone, though. I’ll play along with you guys.”

Alex was going to suffocate in that little staff room. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! And honestly, Alex, I know Sam and I got off on the wrong foot with you guys, but we promise we’re trying to do better. And Kris and Clara are already cool. You guys would be safe using his real name in front of us—if he’s comfortable with it.”

“Okay.”

“There’s no reason to pretend like he’s working when he’s not. If it’s just us—I mean, if you trust all of us, and I know that might be hard—you guys can relax. You don’t have to pretend.”

Alex stared at Martin. Fuck. The downside to making new friends was that he felt bad about lying to them.

Martin had grown so much in just a matter of weeks. He had become so aware of boundaries even when no one told him about them. It was incredible how just a couple of interactions with Damián and getting away from Andrew had completely changed him.

“We’re not actually dating.”

Alex didn’t mean to say it. There was immediate regret when he saw Martin’s face change from soft acceptance to furrowed confusion.

“What?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Alex was in too deep now. It was spiraling. He was going to die right there in that office.

“What do you mean you’re not dating?” Martin asked. “You and Marcus—Damián? You’re not dating?”

“No.”

“Then why have you been saying you’re dating?” Martin laughed, but it was awkward and nervous. “Sam and I literally introduced to you our friends as a couple.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Complicated as in ‘we’re not doing as well as we thought we would, and now we can’t define it?’ Or ‘we never really wanted a label on it?’ Or is it complicated as in ‘we’ve been lying?’”

Alex squeezed the handle of his coffee mug. His knuckles burned against the ceramic. “Complicated as in ‘we’ve been lying.’”

Martin stared at him for a second.

“What the fuck?” he whispered. “Why would you lie about that?”

“Okay, hold on, you’re the one who set us up in the first place as a prank—“

“And I’ve apologized, and I’ve been working really hard to make up for it. I invited you to my fucking home.”

“Can I explain?”

“Yes. Please. Quickly.”

Alex set down his mug. His hands were so sweaty and shaky, he might have dropped it and gotten shitty coffee all over the already-stained linoleum.

He should have been consulting Damián before he went any further, but he was in so deep he just wanted to explain himself before Martin hated him forever.

“The night Damián and I met, we decided that we would pretend to be dating for real until the office party at the end of the month,” Alex said. “Like, as revenge. We thought it would disgust you three, so we wanted to mess with you. When you apologized, we thought we’d keep up the whole thing to make it more believable. I think it just went further than we thought it would.”

“Christ, Alex,” Martin said. “That’s evil.”

“Is it?” Alex had a sort of manic momentum. “Do you know how Damián and I felt the night of your prank? Do you know how scary it is for a sex worker to find out he made advances on a man who had no idea he was a sex worker?”

Martin looked to the side. He mumbled, “No.”

“It was cruel,” Alex said, quietly. “To me and Damián. We were just planning on a little revenge and then putting the whole thing behind us after this month.”

Martin shoved his hands into his pocket. He didn’t look at Alex. “I’m sorry. But you didn’t have to accept our invitations to dinner and to our apartment. You could have said no. Everyone sees you and Damián leaving the office together every week. That would have been enough.”

“We could have, but I—this sounds so stupid—after a week, I wanted to spend more time with Damián. That’s why I kept saying yes. It wasn’t totally manipulative.”

“And you couldn’t have just told him you want to be his friend? You had to create a whole Fake Dating Universe and pull me and my wife and our friends into it?”

“I couldn’t have just told him.”

“Why not? He obviously likes spending time with you. Why else would he play Trivial Pursuit for three hours?”

“Probably because I’m paying him for all of this.”

“Whoa. Stop.” Martin crossed his arms. “You hired him for three hours of a board game? How much are you paying him?”

“I think I’m up to $625. That’s for the two dates with you and Sam and the party date. Plus a planning fee.”

“What?” Martin leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “He charged us $550 for one night. How are you paying barely more than that for three nights?”

“You paid $550?” Alex slapped his hand over his mouth when he shouted it. “For one night?”

He vaguely remembered Damián telling him his regular charge was $250 per hour, but it had sort of been filed away to the back of his brain. They had spent so much time together, surely Alex should have been up in the thousands.

“He’s a pricey escort,” Martin said. “Not the priciest. God knows we found people who charged insane rates. But he said it was $250 for the dinner alone. After that, the other $300 was for the—you know. What would have been sex. We put a lot of thought into our budget. And, might I add, we didn’t want to hire just anyone. We wanted to give you a nice experience.”

“Thank you?”

“Have you been unaware this entire time that he’s, like, a really good, in-demand escort? He’s not charging you his usual rates for a reason,” Martin said. “He likes you. He’s going easy on you.”

“He might just feel bad for me. This is all probably a pity discount.”

“There’s no such thing as a pity discount. I really think he likes you. Kris and Clara were going on and on about how sweet he is to you. So, he’s either the world’s best escort and needs to start charging way more, or he does genuinely like you—and at risk of sounding like a middle schooler, I mean he likes you.”

Being liked by Damián was so much worse than what Alex thought it would feel like. It was something he had secretly wanted, but now that it was a real possibility, Alex could only think how horrifying it was. If Damián really did like him, then Alex no longer had an excuse for not pursuing anything. Feelings were mutual. Alex might no longer have to be single, alone, the state he found painful solace in.

“Good news for me, I guess, is that you guys were shit at lying to us,” Martin said. “I don’t think I feel so hurt knowing you two actually fell for each other.”

Martin was still angry. He deserved to be. But Alex didn’t want him reverting back to the person he was only a week ago—blindly following Andrew and Stu, a little malice tucked away in his heart.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said. “Can we still keep this all between us?”

“Yeah. Whatever. I won’t tell anyone.”

Martin took his coffee and walked past Alex, out of the break room.

The worst part of it all was the text Alex immediately sent to Damián.

Damián, I accidentally let Martin know that we’ve been lying, and I accidentally told him your real name. I’m really sorry. I don’t know how I let it slip, and now his feelings are hurt. I’m really, really sorry.

Alex walked back to his desk, set down his coffee, stared staring blankly at e-mails. Damián didn’t reply for a while, but Alex could see three dots periodically appearing and reappearing on the bottom of his screen. There was nothing he could do but wait. He refused to start typing out a self-deprecating apology. It would only make things worse. Besides, he was paralyzed with fear.

What if Damián hated him? What if it was a huge violation of his privacy—and it was—that would get Alex blacklisted, and Damián would drop him as a client? And a friend.

He sat frozen at his desk for an hour trying to convince himself he hadn’t lost both of his new friends to the same fuck up.

Finally, a text came through.

I’ll see you later, and we can talk about it then.

Okay. Not terrible. It wasn’t the worst thing Damián could have said.

Damián sent him an address a minute later.

Meet me at my apartment.

Okay. I’ll see you then. I’m really sorry

Alex had to go through the rest of his day alone. Damián didn’t text him anymore. Martin steered clear of him. It was what he was used to, at least.

He pretended to work and pretended like he wasn’t spiraling. The day ended, and he gathered his jacket and his bag, and he followed the address on numb legs to an apartment complex not all that far from his office.

Damián answered his door with a frown, arms wrapped firmly across his chest.

“I would have liked a little heads up before you did any of that,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” Alex said.

Damián turned around and led him inside the apartment. Walking out of the entrance hallway, Alex hid his shock at how nice of a place it was. Not that he had assumed Damián was living in a bad place. Just that he had assumed that his own apartment was pretty average for a single man in his 30s—tiny, cramped, one window—and that Damián must have been living in a similar setup.

But Damián’s apartment was spacious. Alex believed that Martin and the others paid over $550 for a single night. There was no other way Damiàn would be able to afford such a place on his own. It momentarily distracted Alex from the vague feeling of wanting to vomit.

Damián had a living room that could actually hold a sizable couch, a coffee table, and a chair. It wasn’t too close to his kitchen which had a table. A table! Alex had never had a kitchen table of his own.

And on that table was a brown paper bag of takeout. Damián dug into it and pulled out two plastic bowls. He held one to his chest.

“Tell me why you did it and then you get your ramen,” Damián said.

“I didn’t mean to,” Alex said. “I really didn’t. I slipped with your name, he was understanding, and then after that, the rest just. Spilled out of my mouth. I couldn’t stop it. I felt guilty about lying to him.”

Damián didn’t relax his hold on the ramen. “Is he going to tell anyone else my name?”

“No. He promised he wouldn’t.”

“He isn’t going to go back to pranks now that he knows we’ve been deceiving him?”

“I don’t think so?”

Damián held the bowl out. Alex accepted it, knowing full well he didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“It’s fine, I guess.” Damián sat down and pulled out his own bowl and two packets of wooden chopsticks. “You didn’t mean to. Accidents happen.”  

“You don’t have to forgive me.”

Damián looked up and smiled with half of his mouth. “But I will. You didn’t mean to. I’d rather you hadn’t revealed my identity to a man I just met, but I think it’ll be fine.”

“He won’t do anything harsh.”

“We better hope not.”

Alex tucked his hands between his knees. Damián cracked open his lid. Steam rolled up and covered Damián’s face.

“I don’t have time to properly scold you, anyway,” Damián said. “I have a client tonight.”

“I thought you didn’t take clients on Mondays.”

“Well.” Damián scooped noodles onto his chopsticks. “I usually don’t, but I’m setting money aside for Leo’s tuition next year.”

Alex never offered to help Eve with tuition. But then again, they had parents and Damián and Leo didn’t seem to be totally in touch with theirs. Or if they were, it must have not been a situation where Leo could ask for help. But regardless, it made Alex feel like an inferior brother.

“Can I try to make it up to you?” Alex asked.

Damián sighed. His face relaxed. “It’s really not a big deal. It was an accident. Martin doesn’t strike me as the type to try to ruin someone’s life over this, either. What’s the worst he’ll do? Tell his wife?”

“It would make me feel better if you let me at least try to make it up.”

Damián always had such a soft, tender look about him. He set his chopsticks down on the edge of his plastic bowl and linked his fingers, setting his chin on top of them.

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

“Anything you want from me.”

Damián pulled his hands apart and laid one across the table, palm up. Alex unclasped his own, brought them up from between his knees, raised one above the table, and finally laid it, shaking, in Damián’s. It was the first time they had held hands since the first night they met, when Damián led him down the hallways of the hotel.

Alex’s face was hot. Little tremors shook his whole body.

“If you insist on making it up to me,” Damián said, “you can let me take you out somewhere that’s not just cheap dinner or ice cream.”

Alex liked their cheap dinners and their single ice cream trip. They were so ordinary, so easily fit into his normal routine, that it had made Damián feel like a solid part of his life. He had settled into Alex’s days so easily, like he had always been there.

Damián folded his fingers over Alex’s hand. They were warm and soft. Alex’s were still chilled from the outside.

“If you let me take you out for a night, I’ll forgive you,” Damián said. “Not a hired appointment or anything. Me genuinely taking you out.”

A date. That was what Damián was asking for. A date. A date!

The little bit of residual trauma from last month let itself be known, and Alex immediately felt a rush of panic. What if it was another prank? What if it was all going to be fake in the end?

But he remembered what Martin said, and he thought about all the days he and Damián had already had together.

“When do you want to go out?” Alex asked.

Damián pulled his hand away. Alex missed it immediately. His palm felt cold, and his fingers wanted to curl back around something.

Damián scrolled through his phone calendar.

“Okay. Friday. My stupid client canceled Friday because he felt bad about cheating on his wife. Is Friday good?”

Alex ignored the cheating comment. “My parents are visiting Friday, but they’ll be gone by the evening. They’re taking Eve back home with them for the weekend.”

Damián’s eyes were bright. “Perfect. Friday it is! Have you ever been to Dorothy’s? The club?”

“No.”

Alex hadn’t been to any clubs before. They weren’t really his scene. People who went to clubs were sexier and had better wardrobes and liked being in big crowds. Alex was more of a stay at home with Netflix and Twitter type of guy. Though, he had to admit the promise of going out with Damián made him willing to try something new.

“It’s a gay club,” Damián said. “It’s one of the best on this side of the city, I swear. Best drag queens, best DJs, best drinks.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Damián tilted his head. “Have you been to a gay club at all?”

Alex’s chest tightened. He had been to so few queer places in his life. He had taken Eve to pride events, of course, but never a place like a club. There were so many queer spaces that were noisy and crowded—and that was great! Alex loved that queer people got to take up spaces and be loud and get to exist with such force and strength. It was great. It was lovely. Alex was so proud that he got to be part of a community that, after trauma and tragedy, still went out to party in large masses.

But he still didn’t like clubs.

“No.”

“Want to try one out?”

“Uh.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No! I will!”

He might have fun after all. Alex trusted Damián. He trusted him a lot. And it would probably do him good to hang out in a queer space. He needed a little more socializing, he had realized, after micro-dosing a social life with Damián.

“Okay,” Damián said, nodding. “And whenever you want to leave, we can. But I promise you you’ll have fun. Dorothy’s is a good space. If we go early, it’ll be chill. There won’t be any huge crowds.”

“Can I ask a few questions?”

“Of course!”

“What do you do at a gay club?”

“We chill. Watch other people dance. Get drinks. If we stay late enough, we can watch a drag show.”

Alex had always wanted to see a drag show live.

“What do you wear?” he asked.

“What do I wear? I’ll probably wear a crop top. I just bought a new one, and I haven’t had a chance to wear it yet. You can wear whatever you’re comfortable in. But fair warning, nightclubs get hot. So, don’t wear a sweater or anything like that.”

“Can I wear a t-shirt?”

“Yeah! Perfect.” Damián took Alex’s hand again and squeezed tight. “This is so exciting! I’ve never taken anyone to their first gay club before.”

Alex would have never expected to be excited to go to a club, but he was. He was wildly excited at the idea of being around other queer people—so many queer people. And a drag show! Every second that passed, he was getting more excited about seeing a queen perform live.

“I’ll ease you into the whole scene,” Damián said.

And best of all, Alex would be spending the whole evening with Damián. Martin was right. He and Damián had totally fallen for each other.

[bi-bard]

Back-Up - Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner Imagine (Criminal Minds)

Title: Back-Up

Pairing: Aaron "Hotch" Hotchner X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 1,202 words

Warning(s): mentions of abuse (mental, physical)

Summary: After a case gets over late, the B.A.U team is stuck in the town their case was in. When they go to grab dinner before heading to bed, a few familiar faces stumble into same restaurant. Luckily, they weren't going to go through it alone.

Author's Note: Y'all are dumb if you think I'll pass up the chance to roast the shit outta John Winchester. I'm pretty sure it's part of my brand now.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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

The case wasn't a problem.

It had gone well.

I wasn't even upset about having to wait until the next morning to leave. The team decided that it was going to be a great idea to go get food that night.

I thought it was going to be great.

And then, my heart dropped.

I looked up from my menu to see three familiar faces walk in. Sam, Dean... and John.

I didn't mind seeing my brothers. The three of us still talked on a normal basis. Even after I left the life, Dean and I tried to call at least once a week.

But John. I hadn't seen or spoken to him in years. I never could bring myself to do it. I didn't think he deserved an ounce of my attention after how I was treated.

It was like the mere act of seeing him again made me freeze up. I let out a shaky breath and looked away, trying to focus on the menu again.

"What's wrong," Hotch mumbled to me.

I shook my head, "Nothing."

"(Y/n)-"

"My dad's here," I muttered, knowing that he wouldn't stop pushing. "And my brothers."

Hotch was the only one that knew all of the details about my childhood. Mostly because I had a negative reaction to something he did, and he wanted to know what to avoid. He thought it would allow me to work more efficiently. He was right. Of course, he was right.

"Really," he asked. I nodded.

I looked up again to see my dad walking over.

"Shit," I whispered.

"Hey, (Y/n)," he greeted. "Nice to see you again, kid."

"Hey," I replied, trying to play nice in front of the team.

I saw Dean and Sam behind him, both looking pissed that he had walked over.

"What's this then," he asked. "A replacement family?"

"Excuse me, sir," Gideon tried to speak up. "I don't know what you're-"

"I'm talking to my kid," John cut him off.

I grimaced and stood up. I grabbed my dad's arm and dragged him outside with me. Sam and Dean followed us. We ended up in a corner of the parking lot.

"What is wrong with you," I asked. "That's my team. My co-workers. If you wanted to talk to me, you could ask to talk. You had no right to-"

"Watch your mouth," he snapped.

"Excuse me," we all looked at Hotch. None of us had even noticed that he had gotten up to follow us. "I apologize for interrupting, but I won't let you talk to one of my agents like that."

I was shocked.

The last time I had someone stand up for me was Sam standing up to John years ago. He was already in his "rebellious phase" and argued with John every day no matter what. Hotch's bluntness caught me completely off-guard.

"I think you're overstepping," John said. "This is between my family. This is my kid."

"The kid that you just tried to humiliate."

John chuckled, "Do you have fun assuming you know everything about people's families?"

"It's to my knowledge that you raised your children as soldiers and then were shocked when two of them left and went no contact," Hotch said bluntly.

"We should go inside," I whispered as I walked over to my brothers.

"Why," Dean asked.

"Because you are not going to like what you are about to watch," I said.

"Where do you have the right to judge how my kids grew up," John stepped up to Hotch.

"When I watched how much it hurt one of my agents," Hotch replied.

"That's my kid-"

"Who had to use a fake last time on their badge."

"What?"

"Even then, the effects are still there," Hotch continued. "(Y/n) can't run from what you did to them."

"I suggest you step back-"

"Do you want to know how I know you mistreated your children? When I argued with (Y/n) for the first time, they didn't try to talk back. They looked down and sat silently."

I looked down. I felt Dean touch my back.

"They can't go anywhere without checking that there's no sign of a monster and won't go somewhere if there is a sign of one," Hotch just kept listing things. "I watched them drop everything during a case to check on their siblings because God knows you wouldn't check on your children. You're too focused on whatever the next monster is."

"Listen-"

"I'm talking," he held a hand up to shut my dad up. "They have nightmares on almost every case. Not just about monsters, but of you. They tried to give Reid make-shift stitches because you told them that was the right thing to do. They lack detrimental social skills. Their own father ran off without calling them for days- wait- weeks without picking up the phone and (Y/n) was barely surprised by it. They became unhealthily codependent on their brothers, who are still in that codependent dynamic. Once, Garcia hugged (Y/n) for no reason other than hugging them, and (Y/n) sobbed because they were convinced that they didn't deserve love unless they were useful."

"I get it," John cut him off.

"Oh, and the worst one, they flinch," Hotch said. All three of us stood up a little bit straighter. "No one can make any surprise motions toward (Y/n) because they will flinch away."

John clenched his jaw. He looked over at me. I shrunk away from him.

"Don't do that," Hotch stepped in front of John's line of sight. "Don't blame (Y/n) for what you did to them."

John let out a huff and started walking away, leaving the argument for another day. Sam and Dean both hesitantly went to follow him.

"Sam, Dean," the duo stopped and looked at my boss. "Why don't you join the team for dinner?"

They both seemed confused. I looked at Hotch. He grinned at me.

"It's on me," he added.

"Boys," none of us spared John a glance.

"We... We don't want to intrude," Sam explained.

"You wouldn't be," Hotch replied. "Come on. I'm sure you'd like to know more about what your sibling does for a living."

"Uh," the boys looked at each other for a moment before Dean spoke up. "Sure. Yeah."

I smiled at them.

"Boys!"

Sam and Dean ignored John's yelling and followed Hotch and me into the restaurant. The team was sitting awkwardly, watching the door.

"Is everything okay," Elle asked quietly as Sam and Dean pulled chairs up to the table.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Umm, everyone, this is Sam and Dean. They're my brothers."

They waved at the team.

"So, you've met Hotch," I explained, pointing at each member of the team. "That's Gideon, J.J., Morgan, Spencer, and Elle."

"Nice to meet you all," Sam said. Dean nodded in agreement.

The team did everything in their power to make the boys comfortable. It seemed to work for the most part. Sam talked about college and what he was going to do before being dragged into the family business. Dean actually talked a bit about why he stuck with my dad for so long.

It was nice.

It was like two worlds colliding. And I loved it.

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

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[thedeviltohisangel]

I Heard From The Heavens//7

Maverick had accepted his own mortality a long time ago. He only asked the universe to keep him safe so Daphne would not know the pain of loss he watched other aviator’s families go through over the years. As he watched her with Bradley, a man who reminded him so much of his father that he had to keep him at arm’s length, he hoped the similarities ended there. He had to protect her from loving because that was the only way to protect her from losing. He doesn’t think he could bear witness to anymore tragedy.

Bradley & Daphne’s Infinite Playlist: 23 by Sam Hunt

masterlist is my url/writing or on ao3

based on a request for mav finding out about daphne & bradley. send in more!

August approached a little too quickly for Daphne’s liking. In May, it had felt like her first summer away from school was going to last forever. She had missed her sorority sisters dearly. Missed the boy on the lacrosse team she had a crush on. Missed the burnt bacon at the dining hall when she ate breakfast around two in the afternoon. Only a couple months later, she missed none of those things. She dreaded returning to school. Dreaded leaving the surprising comfort that she had discovered in the arms of Bradley Bradshaw. 

Daphne couldn’t pinpoint the moment he became more than the son of her dad’s best friend. She had always harbored a crush on him but had never seen Bradley spare her more than a glance since he hit puberty. Her freshman year hadn’t been spent thinking about the older boy and when her father hosted a few friends for a barbecue when she first got back, she had no intention of acknowledging him. But the fire in his eyes when she walked down the stairs. When he went out of his way all night to talk to her. When he asked if she would let him take her for coffee the next day. And then to a local band’s concert the next night. And dinner the next. And every day became every night but neither of them had the courage to tell Pete Mitchell.

“Your mother said she was thinking about having some people over before you left in a couple weeks.” Daphne was actually thankful her mother had moved to California. It made bouncing back and forth easier. 

“I’m sure it’ll be part housewarming as well. Are you invited?” Pete paused where he was cutting the steak on his plate. “I know you and mom don’t like being in the same room but if the party is for me, I want you there.”

“Then I will be there,” he said, reaching across the table to give her hand a squeeze. Oh, how Daphne would live to regret that request.

----

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she stood on her mom’s patio, shaking hands with new colleagues and nodding at their stories while only half listening. When she told her mother she had made her dad promise he’d come, Charlie had swallowed her anger and accepted it. This was going to be a first impression for her co-workers at her new job but she was also hoping to use this group setting for Daphne to meet someone new in her life. There was no way she wanted Pete around for that.

“Dad! You made it!” She wrapped him in a hug, grateful to see a familiar face. “Thank God you’re here. If I have to listen to one more story about the good old days at the Pentagon I might explode.” Pete chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Well, I did promise I’d-Bradley?” She spun around and came face to face with the other man she had invited to this party. A blush spread across her cheeks and she smiled sheepishly as his eyes settled on her. They glimmered with the beginnings of love and adoration. Her fingers twitched to reach out and grab him, confirm he was really here and in front of her. 

“Mav, it’s good to see you,” he reached out and shook his hand, “Daph, these are for you.” She held the flowers with one arm and pulled Bradley into a hug with the other one.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Maverick felt like he was missing something as he watched the two of them interact. He was confused as to Bradley’s presence here but also at the way he spoke to his daughter with a hint of reverence. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asked the younger man.

“I bumped into Bradley when I was out the other night and we had so much fun catching up I thought he’d like to come,” she spoke before he even had the chance. They had rehearsed their story on the phone last night. She thinks it sounded convincing enough.

“Yeah, a great time,” Bradey echoed. Daphne winced slightly as her father narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t convinced.

“You drove from San Diego because you two had fun chatting at a bar the other night?”

“Something like that,” Bradley swallowed, withering under the older man’s gaze. 

“Come help me get these in some water!” Daphne grabbed his hand and began to drag him towards the house.

“Daphne,” her father called out in warning. There was something stirring in his gut. The sense that he wasn’t being told the truth. That something much deeper was going on between the two of them.

“Be right back!” She didn’t breathe until the back was closed and the kitchen sink was running to cover the sound of their hushed whispers. 

“Daphne, we have to tell him.”

“No we don’t.”

“He wants to fucking kill me and he doesn’t even know half the truth!” Bradley had felt like he was going to combust under the intensity of Pete Mitchell’s gaze alone. 

“Today is not the day, Bradley. My mom is out there with her new boyfriend and soon he’s going to figure that out and the last thing he needs to know is-”

“You didn’t tell me your mom had a new boyfriend.” Badley peered out the kitchen window to see if he could locate the two of them. 

“She hasn’t said as much but look at the two of them. She keeps trying to force me to talk to him and I keep avoiding it.” As childish as it was, Daphne only ever wanted to think of her parents with each other. A new partner in either of their lives would bury any chance of cordial behavior forever. “Let’s only have one life altering discovery today, okay?” Bradley took a chance and snuck a quick kiss.

“You have a deal, if you let me makeout with you in the pantry before we go back out there.”

“Deal.”

----

“She mentioned she had asked you to come.” Pete turned from where he was admiring the view of the mountains to see his former wife.

“She asked in that way that’s impossible to say no to.”

“I know the one,” she laughed. “Did I see Bradley Bradshaw with a bouquet of flowers earlier?” He tightened his grip on his bottle of beer.

“Any idea what that’s about?”

“She’s been living with you all summer and you have no clue what’s going on between the two of them?” Daphne had told her over dinner the night she got in for her stay. Told her about the jarring realization a few months ago that Bradley was handsome and passionate and intelligent and that she thinks she loved him but wasn’t sure yet. Had told her that Pete didn’t know because she was afraid of adding more tension to his relationship with Bradley. Afraid of having his protective nature unleashed on someone she cared so deeply about. 

“If you want me to feel like shit, it’s working.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t mentioned anything about him to me. He hasn’t been around the house. Whatever it is, she doesn’t want me to know.” There was that feeling in his gut again. 

“They will in their own time.”

“They’re a ‘they’ already?” The feeling was rising and rising and burning.

“Pete,” she warned. Someone called her name from behind her, her smile at the sight of him the same one he watched Daphne give Bradley earlier. Before she could stop the man, he was walking towards them.

“Hey, I’m Silas.” Pete stared at the hand he had wrapped around his ex’s waist. 

“Pete.” He shook his hand politely as they both recognized who the other was. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find our daughter.” 

“Don’t do something you’ll regret!”Charlie called after him. He raised his hand in acknowledgement, reaching the back of the house and peering inside. It looked empty. The flowers she had been given earlier were on the counter, a vase full of water abandoned in the sink. He was about to call out for her when he heard a thud come from the pantry door diagonally to his left. Against his better judgment, he opened the door. 

“Shit, Dad.” Daphne frantically pushed Bradley’s hand from where it was trying to slide her thong down her legs, pulling the straps of her dress back over her shoulders to cover her exposed bra. “I can explain.” She knew that it looked awful. Only a moment ago, she was on the verge of coming on Bradley’s thigh from the way she was riding it like a mechanical bull back in Charlottesville. 

“My daughter?” The question was directed at Bradley. “Of all the girls in the world, my daughter?” 

“Mav-” Pete grabbed him by the front of his shirt and hauled him out of the closet, nearly dragging him out the front door and onto the lawn. 

“Dad, stop! He did nothing wrong!” Daphne chased after them, tears of embarrassment and worry tingling behind her eyes. 

“Sir, this is not how I wanted you to find out.” Pete released him and Bradley stumbled back a few steps before regaining his balance. “I respect Daphne and care about her.”

“You wouldn’t be hiding in a closet in her mother’s kitchen if you did. I don’t want to see you near her ever again,” he seethed. 

“Please, stop! I’m sorry, Dad, I shouldn’t have kept it a secret. I should’ve told you but I knew you’d react like this.” She stepped between the two of  them. “Please.”

“Daphne, a real man would respect you enough to do this the right way. Not like this, not like he is.” She felt her world spinning out of control. Felt like collapsing to the ground and pleading with her father to not ruin this for her. That she loved having Bradley in her life and hadn’t been happier than she had been the past few months. That he was breaking her heart.

“I love her.” Bradley swallowed as he squared his shoulders and both Mitchells stared at him. “I am in love with your daughter. Daphne, I am in love with you.” Her breath caught in her throat as his words washed over her. 

“Bradley,” she breathed out. 

“You’re right, Sir. I haven’t been behaving like a man should. But I promise you I cherish every moment I have with Daphne and I promise I’ll be careful with her heart. That I will prove, every day, I am deserving of her. That you can trust me with her.” She beamed at him, wanting to run to Bradley but not wanting to reject her father.

“Say something, Daddy, please,” she begged as she gripped his hands tightly. Pete looked to his daughter, fighting to remember the little girl that hugged his legs while seeing the beautiful young lady she had become.

“You trust him?” She nodded. “You’re my whole world, Daffy Duck. No one will ever be able to love you as much as I do.”

“If I need his body disposed of, you’re my first call.” They both smiled and she hugged him tightly. Just as tightly as she always had. Once she pulled away, she ran to Bradley and embraced him lovingly. “Did you mean it?” she whispered.

“I love you. I love you so much,” he repeated, caressing her cheek and rubbing his nose against hers.

“I love you, too,” she replied giddily. Pete couldn’t help but watch with a sad smile as he thought of his old friend and the love he had shared with his wife. He remembered watching Bradley and Carole at the funeral. Remembered that she couldn’t even stand the weight of her husband’s loss. Remembered the cries of agony that echoed through the empty barracks for days after. 

Maverick had accepted his own mortality a long time ago. He only asked the universe to keep him safe so Daphne would not know the pain of loss he watched other aviator’s families go through over the years. As he watched her with Bradley, a man who reminded him so much of his father that he had to keep him at arm’s length, he hoped the similarities ended there. He had to protect her from loving because that was the only way to protect her from losing. He doesn’t think he could bear witness to anymore tragedy.

Taglist:

@shanimallina87

[lunmelia]

Listen I know that Jack had to “grow up fast” because the world is a “dangerous place” or whatever but if he was born a baby?? I would’ve watched the hell out of that show. Just two dudes, their mum and an angel raising the devil’s baby. Because I say that they kicked Lucifer’s ass to the alternate world and everyone lives (except Kelly. Sorry.). Could you imagine? 

You have Mary; the woman who has experience in raising two babies, even if one was only for six months.

You have Dean; the man who basically raised Sam and has vague memories of helping out when his brother was a baby. Helped Lisa with her son and baby niece. Took care of a shapeshifter baby for a day. Also had a daughter for a couple of days but didn’t interact with her much. 

You have Sam; not much experience. Also took care of a shapeshifter baby for a day. Strong in research, might manage to find them at least a paragraph of how to raise a nephilim. Killed his niece. Not a great sign but he promises he won’t do that this time. 

You have Castiel; the angel expert. Is a literal angel. Has no experience with babies apart from that one night he babysat for his co-worker. Kind-of-sort-of-not-really a dad to a teenage girl. Only times he’s had to interact with a nephilim is when he’s been ordered to kill one, so, not a good sign but he promises he won’t do that this time. 

Together, they make do. But holy shit is raising Jack tough. 

He may not have a true form like Castiel but he does have wings and a true voice. Which he can’t control. So the tantrums. The tantrums. When he was born he made their ears bleed from the crying, and the lights exploded. Cas was miraculously able to calm him down before further damage was done, but the humans always make sure to have earplugs on them from then on. They also had to buy a large supply of lightbulbs to replace the ones in the bunker every time he cries. 

They had to baby proof the bunker. And I mean baby proof the hell out of the bunker. You think a normal house can be dangerous for a baby? The bunker is huge. And full of knives, guns, spellbooks, ancient artifacts, and just about a thousand other things that are not. good. to have around a baby. The baby proofing took a week. Two days of exploring the bunker and recording everything that needed to be baby-proofed, two shopping trips in a day to buy the things needed, and another three days of installing everything. Cas had to stay with Jack in his room while Mary, Sam and Dean did all the baby proofing. 

(also yes this is an AU in which Dean and Cas get their shit together, confess their feelings, build a house and raise Jack as his dads. the build a house part comes in when Jack is like 3)

The absolute freakout Dean had when Jack flew the first time. It happened when he was five months old, and Dean was changing his diaper. He turned around for a second to throw out the wipes. Heard the flap of wings, turned back around with a greeting for Cas on his lips, and Jack was gone. It went like this: Dean, staring at the empty table: ... Jack? Jack- *realisation* Cas! Cas, the baby’s gone! Cas! The baby can fly! Baby’s flying- Cas, appearing in front of him with a giggling Jack in his arms: yes, I am well aware Dean: oh my god- Jack: *disappears again* Dean: *yelps in alarm* Cas: *simply reaches up and just. plucks Jack out of thin air. one moment there’s empty air and the next Jack is just in Cas’ hands* Cas: this may become... difficult Dean, leaning over with his hands on his knees: I’m gonna have a heart attack

Turns out, baby Jack can heal! Which is what Mary discovered when once she had held Jack after coming back from a hunt with a few scrapes, they miraculously disappeared. 

You know when toddlers will get into the flour and leave a mess that you have to clean up for the next two hours? Yeah, well Jack got into a box of spellbooks and opened one which released monsters from fables. So that was a very panic-filled 6 hours that included Sam, Dean and Mary researching how to put them back / kill them while Cas held Jack close to make sure he didn’t fly away. Turns out, baby-proofing a bunker is pretty useless when said baby can fly through walls.

Apart from the many mishaps thathappened during raising Jack from infancy to toddlerhood, he’s just a weird kid. And kids are usually weird, but Jack is weird. 

Sam basically sprinted back to the car with a five-year-old Jack in his arms after Jack had held a woman’s hand in his at a playground and gently told her, “the events that lead to your father’s death were never your fault. He is in his Heaven now and although he is at peace, he begs that you make room in your heart for forgiveness of his wrong doings.” Yeah, they were very close to moving town when that happened. 

One day when he was 6, he walked outside into the back yard and just sat down in a random spot and stared at the ground. After a couple of minutes of glancing out the window to check on him, Dean walked up to him. Dean: whatchu up to, kid? Jack: there is a daisy that is going to grow and bloom here in 15 days. I’ve never seen a flower grow. I would like to watch it, if that’s okay? Dean: you want to sit here, in this exact spot, for 15 days so you can watch a flower grow? Jack, still not taking his eyes off the spot: yes Dean, who’s honestly used to this behaviour after witnessing it for the past two years: ... alright, sure. I’ll bring you dinner in a couple of hours, that sound good? Jack, finally looking up with a beaming smile: yes, thank you! (Cas and Dean did not let him sit in the same spot for 15 days. They did sit next to him for like two hours when the daisy did bloom, though. And despite the creak and buzzing ache in his knees and back, Dean can’t find it in himself to regret it.) 

he had a phase when he was 7 where he would say hi to everyone he came across. Everyone. Dean and Cas cannot make one shopping trip with him without everyone in that store knowing Jack’s name. He says bye when they leave too. 100% every time they get at least 5 people saying bye back. 

On the year he turned 8 they decided to enrol him in school. After weeks of telling him not be “weird” and teaching him to be as normal of a kid as he could be. When the 4 of them are confidant that he won’t go around using his powers, they enrol him. They did not anticipate the school calling him the first day, telling them that Jack had explained to the other kids that Santa isn’t real and they should “learn to not set themselves up for disappointment or believe what their parents say” which caused the entire class to burst out into tears. It was another “maybe we should move town” moment.

Another kid: my dad broke his leg. he has to walk with crutches now. sometimes he lets me use them! Jack: both my dads have died. one of them was torn to shreds by hellhounds who then dragged his soul down to hell where he was tortured for 40 years, but then father rescued him, that was how they met. but then father was blown to bits by my biological father. but then my grandfather resurrected him! they’re fine now.  Their teacher: uh, wow... Jack. sure sounds like you have some very vivid dreams Jack, remembering he’s not supposed to talk about this kind of stuff: ah, yes, of course... dreams. I woke up... crying. a lot. the dreams... scared me. 

I have... so many other little moments in my head, but this post is already so long so let me know if anyone wants more. 

[donutloverxo]

Before you

*not my gif*

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this was requested by the lovely @whimsicalrogers thanks for all the icons, lock screen and dividers you made me! Thanks for the beta and all your advice @stargazingfangirl18. I hope I do you all proud🤭

Summary - Yours and Steve's relationship was perfect, until it wasn't. Will he be able to convince you to give him another chance?

Warnings - smut (m/f), jealousy, angst, dom/sub undertones.

Pairing - Steve Roger x reader

Word count - 4552

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

As someone who grew up watching an unhealthy amount of Disney movies and romcoms, you couldn’t help but dream, that someday your prince charming would come riding in on a white horse to whisk you away from your boring mundane life.

Someone you could love and hold forever, who’d do the same for you. Someone who’d always be there for you, to pick you up when you fall, to make you laugh when all you want to do is cry. Someone who’d be your everything and treat you as if you’re the most special person in the whole world.

But adulthood killed all those dreams all too easily. You learned the hard way that people didn’t really belong to each other. They barely even listened to when another person was talking.

You thought you came close a couple of times, but you never did find your special person. Everyone walks on their paths alone. And maybe it was better that way. You weren’t sure if you could ever completely open up and give yourself to someone else.

That was until Steve came along. He was someone as lost as you and even lonelier. Finding himself in a world he no longer recognised and among people he couldn’t really trust. It didn’t take that long for him to trust you.

You had put on Snow White which was Steve’s favorite from back in his day. You couldn’t help but insert yourself in the fairy-tale. After all Steve did always call you his princess.

“Steve?” You mumbled into his chest laying on top of him as the end credits played.

“Yes, sugar?” He replied running his hands through your hair before drawing small soothing patterns on your back.

He only had to move his nose an inch to smell your hair and get a whiff of your soft soothing scent. Who knew something so simple could be so blissful.

As much as he loved taking you out on the town and courting you to show you a good time and do all the things he never thought he could, he also loved spending these quiet evenings in with you. Where it was just him and you, the rest of the world just seemed to disappear. He wouldn’t trade them for anything.

“Never mind,” You shook your head. ‘It’s soon. You’ll scare him off.’ That incessant annoying voice in your head said.

“Hey,” He propped your chin up to make you look at him. His heart melted at your glossy eyes. So vulnerable and sensitive. Maybe it was what drew him to you. Your ability to be so sweet and wear your heart on your sleeve. Something he never could do. “What is it?” He asked lowly caressing your cheek. Not wanting to push you too much but he couldn’t really help himself when you looked so sad either.

“Do you think...” You whispered and licked your lips “We’ll be together forever. Like them.” You picked at the threads on his shirt too scared to look at him.

He smiled down at you. Getting up to sit straight and adjust you properly in his lap. “I know we will sweetheart.” He said confidently as if it was a fact.

You looked up at him still holding onto his shirt, as if he’d disappear if you let go for even a second “And do you think you’ll always love me?” You wanted to know.

“Yes, I’m sure of it. Where is this even coming from?” He frowned “I know... I don’t always do a good job of showing you I love you. This is new to me. I’ve never had a girlfriend.” And like the dork that he was he couldn’t help the goofy grin he made every time he referred to you as his girl “But I’ll do better,” He promised and pressed a long lingering kiss on your forehead to seal it. He cleared his throat to ask “What do you think I should do better?”

“No. You’re amazing, Steve, you don’t need to change.” You said giving his plump pink lips a quick peck “It’s just scary. How much I love you and how it can all go away if I’m not careful. People break up everyday and over the stupidest of things or over nothing. I don’t want that to be us.” You sighed unloading all your anxieties.

He nodded taking your words in “I understand. I’m scared of losing you too. More than you’ll ever know.” He paused looking for the best words “What we can do is maybe talk about such things?” He slowly suggested rocking you back and forth in his arms.

You happily tucked your head in the crook of his neck, hugging him close to you. Falling for his sweet words and him. Convinced that nothing would come between you both.

***

He got down on one knee not long after to pop the big question with an even bigger diamond to really show you how committed he was.

You were on cloud nine. You felt nothing could ever bring you down that you only had happier times to look forward to.

Until one fateful day, you didn’t realise it then but it was probably when everything started going to hell, Sharon Carter got back from her year long mission in Europe.

You were only an accountant working for the Avengers. Being so close to Steve did give you some influence, which you were ashamed of liking a bit too much, but no one was ever really scared of you. You heard chatter about her and your Steve. And how now he would surely ditch his ‘normal and plain fiancé'. They never tried that hard to hide it from you. They probably thought you weren’t here for the long haul.

“Hey Angie” You nervously called for your desk mate. “Why is everyone so obsessed with Steve and Agent Carter?”

“Oh you mean Staron?” She grinned before frowning, “Oh I’m sorry! That’s just what people call them. Not me though! You know how hard I ship you two.” She squeezed your shoulder in order to console you.

“Yeah but why? I mean did they use to date or something...” You trailed off knowing that it was something you should be asking your fiancé not your co-worker.

You had tried a couple of times but you were too afraid to come off as jealous or controlling. That was the last thing you wanted to be. You expected him to give you enough space to be your own person, so it’d only be fair for you to do the same.

“I don’t really know.” She stroked her chin as if in thought “You’ll just have to ask Captain Rogers. Nothing was ever confirmed they were just rumors. Even I’ll admit they would make gorgeous blonde babies. But girl! You don’t have anything to worry about! You’re the one who has the ring.” She tried her best to assure you but the seeds of doubt and fear had taken roots in your mind.

Steve assured you that there was never anything between them. They flirted with the idea of dating for a while before she went away, he doubted there’d ever be anything between them. He couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Not when he’s so madly in love with you.

He was so convincing and charming.

The things that set him apart from everyone else, which you loved about him, were his honesty and loyalty. He blamed his Ma and 1920s raising but you didn’t care. He was perfect in your eyes. He didn’t need to fit in. Those things made him Steve Rogers. Your Steve.

***

You had never been more ashamed than when you went through Steve’s things to get some sort of clue. You went through his sketches to find if he was secretly harboring any kind of feelings about her. You only found sketches mostly consisting of you and the Avengers, some of Bucky and his mom.

You sighed in relief, but then, at the bottom of his drawer you found a sketch of Sharon drawn with charcoal pencil. You couldn’t help but cry tears of frustration and pain, tearing the sketch up and flushing it so he wouldn’t find out. You knew you made a grave mistake, even as you started snooping you knew nothing good would come out of it, yet you couldn’t help yourself. In the end you only upset yourself.

Steve got back from work shortly after with your favorite take out, he kissed you hello. He knew something was up but you simply lied and chalked it up to pms or something.

He was ever so understanding. Giving you a nice massage and drawing you a bath. You decided then, that you wouldn’t look for anything anymore. If Steve was being unfaithful you didn’t want to know. You’d rather live in this beautiful peaceful bubble of ignorance.

***

The next few months were tough. All your wedding planning had taken a backseat as Steve had started to look for his friend Bucky, who also happened to be the winter soldier, with Sam and Sharon.

You didn’t really have an answer when your mother pestered you about going wedding shopping. You didn’t know how to tell her that you doubted if there would be a wedding at all. It would break her heart. Especially after she had come to love Steve as much as you did.

You never complained. How could you? The whole world needed him much more than you ever could. And he didn’t seem to need you anymore.

He never had to have time for you anymore. Late nights at the offices, long missions with Sharon.

One rare night he was home for dinner, you were too busy sulking in your self pity to actually enjoy his company after he’d deprived you of it for so long.

You chose to give him the silent treatment, not speaking more than two words to him. He noticed. Of course he did, Captain America, always so perceptive and smart.

He tried to pry answers out of you for a while before his phone started ringing and he excused himself to go pick it up.

“Why do you always go into the other room to take your calls?” You asked when he got back placing his phone down on the table. Playing with your food not having the strength to look him in the eye and confront him.

He visibly stiffened at the underlying accusation in your question. He had grown annoyed of having the same discussion with you again and again. But he decided to bite his tongue. It was his job to make you feel secure in your relationship.

“It’s confidential information, doll. You know that.” He sighed.

You hummed “But you can tell me who you were speaking to right?” You finally looked up and you wished you hadn’t. He clearly wasn’t happy, his eyebrows furrowed in a frown and his jaw clenched, how you hated confrontation. Not that you ever thought you’d be confronting your Steve.

“It was Sharon.” He spit.

“Of course.” You scoffed going back to staring at your food as he rolled his eyes.

“What do you want me to say? I know you aren’t exactly fond of her but I’m not going to lie just to make you happy. Because that’s not who I am! I don’t lie.” He ranted holding up his phone “Why don’t you go through it? Maybe that will make you happy.”

You shook your head rejecting his offer. Even though you were tempted to, you knew Steve was smart. He was Captain America for gods sake. He’d know how to cover his tracks. If he didn’t want you to find something, you probably wouldn’t.

So you finished your dinner, angrily stuffing the food in your mouth while sneering at him and then left him to do the dishes.

You put yours and Steve's laundry in the washer. Even though you were salty with him you still did your half of the chores. Checking his pockets for any receipts or bills. But then you saw what looked like a shinning golden thread. You pulled at it to find that it was a long blonde hair. Which was clearly not yours.

You thought of going to Steve with it. But if you had to hear another one of his lame excuses you’d probably drown yourself.

So, for the first time, you simply went to bed angry with him. When he tried to talk to you, you retorted with a snarky or hurtful comment or didn’t speak at all. You knew just how crazy that would drive him.

***

You groaned for the fifteenth time in the past hour, your leg impatiently shaking under the table. He was an hour late. He was someone who took pride in always being punctual and sharp, clearly you weren’t important enough for him to consider your feelings. You decided to pick up your phone and call him.

“Where are you?!” You hissed as soon as he picked up. Too angry to even bother to say hello.

“I’m at work. I’m so sorry, doll, I won’t be able to make it. Something important came up.” He apologized. His voice laced with guilt. Which would’ve been enough to convince you maybe a month or so ago, but at this point he had missed far too many dinners and dates.

“Right. Of course. More important than me obviously.” You rolled your eyes.

“You know that’s not true – "

“You didn’t even bother calling me” You screamed into your phone.

“I did call.” He sighed “You didn’t pick up and I’m kinda busy right now.”

“Yeah I didn’t pick up! I was cooking a meal for our anniversary! You know what? I don’t care because you clearly don’t either.” You said hanging up without giving him a chance to speak.

You had packed some of the leftovers up for Steve but you decided to dump them all in the bin. He didn’t deserve your cooking.

You haphazardly threw the tupperware in the sink. Torn between punching a wall and hugging a pillow to cry out all your frustrations. You chose to rigorously scrub and wash the dishes.

Having spent some of your excess energy you sat in front of your dresser, putting some petroleum jelly on your palms to sooth the burn.

You sighed at the sight of your sparkly diamond. You couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. It reminded you of a happier and simpler time. The last thing you wanted was a complicated or dramatic relationship.

As you slid the ring off your finger placing it in your jewellery box, you couldn’t help but ponder on whether it was just as much of your fault as well.

You started packing your clothes into a small bag. Maybe you could spend a few nights at your mothers house until you can clear your head.

***

Steve hastily opened your apartment door with his keys. “Honey, I’m home.” He called out for you.

He rubbed his face, a nervous pit forming in his stomach. He knew he had been prioritising his work over you for weeks now, he didn’t know the extent of it until you told him off on the phone and then didn’t pick up any of his calls. He asked Sam to cover for him for the night as he made his way back home.

His enhanced hearing picked up on movements in the bedroom, he followed the sounds of your rustling, tossing his jacket on the couch.

His worst fears came true as he looked at you carelessly stuffing your clothes in a cabin bag. You spared him a glance before zipping the bag up.

He took a deep breath, he had to say the right words before he fucks up the situation more than he already has. “Sweetheart –“

“Steve, I’m leaving. I think we should take a break,” Your voice cracking a bit but you tried to be resilient and strong, you sighed as you saw the heartbroken look on his face as his jaw dropped “it’s hard for me too but it’s just not working anymore.”

“Is it hard for you?” He spit. “Everyone has problems, I just need one more chance.”

“I won’t let you break my heart again.” You swallowed as you felt tears stream down your cheeks, you wiped them with the back of your hand. “I’ll always love you but I’m tired of being disappointed and suspicious and jealous. It’s not who I am, it’s not who I want to be.”

“Wh – what do you mean suspicious?” He asked as his brows furrowed.

“I think you know what I mean. I know I’m not like a model or a kickass spy or unique. But I still want to be special to someone. I’m so...simple. I thought that was enough for you and us.”

“What are you even talking about?” He lost his composure and calm as his eyes watered, blurring his vision, he held onto your forearms, needing your touch the most right now, as if you won't leave if he held on tight enough. “I’m not special either.”

To which you scoffed. “That’s debatable.”

“It’s true. Captain America is special. He’s the superhero. I’m just Steve.”

“I know that’s what you think,” You said shaking his hands off of you and staring at the floor, not bearing to look at him “But it’s not the reality. Captain America is a part of you. And I think... maybe Captain America deserves someone extraordinary like Agent 13.” You let out a humorless chuckle.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked in his stern Captain voice, clenching his fists having had about enough of this.

You stiffened as a shiver ran down your spine at his tone. He had never spoken to you like that. He reserved that tone for his teammates and subordinates, and more often than not Tony. But not you. You were his precious baby.

You felt as if you were compelled to look up at him, he wasn’t crying anymore but his jaw had hardened, his face and neck flushed red. “Sharon. I mean,” You took a deep breath “I know there’s nothing between you two... probably.” you whispered as he raised a brow at you.

“But your work and duty will always come first and I know it is a good thing. But it’s not what I want. I thought I could handle it, the whole world needing you more than me and coming before me,” You spoke so lowly but you knew he could hear you, “but I can’t. I don’t think I ever will. A break will put things into perspective for both of us.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He growled as you rolled your eyes. “How could you think those things? I need you more than anything else.” His anger was fuelled as you scoffed again, as if he was lying. “Don’t you dare hink that there’s anything past or present that I’d put before you. You’re the only thing that matters. I promise.”

“You may believe that, but your words only carry so much weight when they’re not followed up by actions. I know you’re not the cheating type,” You rambled pulling on your hair and sighing, it was all so overwhelming “I don’t know what to believe. When I go days without speaking to you – what else am I supposed to believe?”

He hesitantly snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, relieved that you didn’t stop him or push him away again, “Just give me one chance to prove myself. I know I’ll never be worthy of you but I don’t want us to give up so easily. Not without putting up a fight.” He gritted pulling your chin up as your hands played with the buttons on his shirt. “And you know how good I am at putting up a fight. I’ll always fight for you,” He smiled pulling your chin up to look at your pretty face.

“Okay,” You sniffled. “You’re always so good with words.” You smiled shaking your head.

He hummed at that. “I got you to go out with me, didn’t I?”

“What are you doing here anyway? Didn’t you have work?” you wanted to know.

He shushed you, pulling you into his chest and pressing his face in the crook of your neck. He craved your warmth and comfort especially after almost losing you. “I’ll never take you for granted again.” He nuzzled your neck before kissing it. “We can go venue hunting tomorrow. For the wedding.”

You smiled in his hold “Well I don’t know about that. Maybe the wedding planning can wait for a while.”

He hummed as he rested his chin on top of your head. He had his work cut out for him if he intended to keep you. He made a mental note of calling Tony first thing in the morning. “I hate it when we fight.” He said rocking you in his arms “But I like the making up part.”

You playfully smacked his chest. You just knew he was cheekily grinning. “I agree.” You giggled.

You hadn’t fought a whole lot throughout your relationship, but the make up sex was always amazing.

You gulped nervously as he captured your lips in a bruising and breath taking kiss. Letting you know just how much he loved you. You hummed as his hands caressed the soft skin of your ass, squeezing it lightly before he pulled you up.

You yelped as you wrapped your legs around his narrow waist. You trailed kisses down his jaw as he carried you to your bed. Giving him a nip or two here and there, smiling against his throat as you felt the vibrations of his moans.

He gently dropped you on your comfortable mattress, you giggled as you bounced.

Steve hovered above you, he was so large, he was the only thing you could look at. Your shaky hands worked on unbuttoning his shirt as he pulled your night shirt up, groaning at the sight of your soft nipples, hardening so easily at his touch. He pulled one in his mouth as he thoroughly sucked on it.

“Oh, Steve.” You moaned as his hand came up to pay some attention to your other breast, fondling it in his hand before tugging your stiff peak with his fingers. You gasped as he bit you. “Oh I’ll definitely feel that tomorrow,” You sighed pulling your shirt over your head as he made his way down your body, settling between your legs.

He looked at you as you bit your lip, your breasts laid flat as you chest heaved with anticipation. He let out a guttural sound as he saw and smelled just how aroused and wet you were for him. He licked a firm stripe up your warm folds before capturing your bundle of nerves in his mouth, harshly sucking on it as he worked you up with his fingers to get you ready for him.

The moans and mewls from your mouth and the squelching of his fingers were something akin to a symphony to his ears. He cooed as you thrashed wildly when he pulled away. “Steve!” You whined.

“Just a minute baby. You remember what we talked about? Patience.” He said as he quickly got rid of his clothes. His throbbing erection ached to be inside you. But he couldn’t help but tease his sweet girl a bit as he stroked himself above you, much to your displeasure.

He chuckled as you kicked your legs. “Patience,” He reminded you again as he bent to suck a bruise on your breast. He pulled away with a pop, pleased with the way your skin bruised under his assault, “So you’ll always remember how much I love you.” He murmured in your neck as he slowly entered your channel.

He stayed inside you just like that for a few minutes, it was comfortable like a warm hug, it felt like home because you were his home. No matter how many times he made love to you, he could never get used to how wet and tight you felt.

He sucked a few more love bites on your neck he knew you’d give him hell for later but in the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He rocked his hips, slowly and tortuously pulling out of you before pushing back in till he bottomed out, searching for your special spot, he knew he found it when you threw your head back and started blabbering nonsense.

Your hips matched his pace, trying their best to keep up with his super strength and agility. He propped himself up on his elbows, he needed to see you, see your face twist in pleasure as he did such sinful things to you. Except they rarely ever felt sinful to him. It felt as if he was expressing his love for you by pleasing you and worshipping you.

“How could you ever think I don’t care about you?” He asked not really expecting an answer, what with you being so preoccupied and your mind too far gone to listen to him, as he drove his hips up harshly.

You shook your head muttering apologises and chanting his name as he felt you clench around him. Your nails dug into his shoulders, holding onto him as your orgasm hit you in waves of pleasure.

“I need you to say it.” He demanded. His thrusts lost any sense of rhythm simply pounding into you with abandon as he chased his release. “Say that you know that I love you.” He rasped as his hips stuttered. “Say. It.” He punctuated with a few more thrusts before he emptied inside you, panting into the crook of your neck.

“I know you love me Steve.” You mumbled as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I love you more.”

You felt him shake his head as he pecked your lips. “That’s not possible.”

“Yes it is!” You huffed incredulously.

“Agree to disagree.” He stated not really in the mood to fight with you anymore as you smacked his bicep, scoffing at him before muttering a ‘whatever’ under your breath. He pulled you on top of him still connected to your heat as he felt his spend spill out of you. “Can we stay like this for a bit?” He asked somewhat shyly.

You hummed, “Yes of course.” You sleepily mumbled against his soft and warm chest.

He listened to your breathing and steady heartbeat as you slipped into a dreamless slumber.

He couldn’t sleep. He only ever slept a couple of hours every night and now after everything that perspired, he was scared he’d fall asleep and you’d be gone when he wakes up.

There was no way in hell he’d ever let you. He’d give up the shield if he had to. He was as stupidly stubborn as you if not more. He was sure he’d fix everything as he kissed the top of your head and covered the pair of you with the comforter. So you’d feel as warm and comfortable as him.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm.

Comments and feedback are appreciated! ❤❤

Idk how Sharon comes off in this but no Sharon hate please! I don't have an opinion on her but I believe in girls supporting girls. Thank you😘😘

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.

[hoboal87]

You Broke Us, Part 2

Title: You Broke Us, Part 2

Pairing: lawyer!Sam x wife!Reader

Word Count: 700+

Warnings: mentions of past cheating

A/N: @superbadassnatural​ I’m gonna blame you for this second part as well 😛

Read the first part here

The house was empty, cold, without Sam there. It’d been three days since he’d walked out on you, and you’d spent every moment in bed, calling him repeatedly, begging for forgiveness. You’d left multiple messages trying to explain that it was a mistake, that you’d never meant for anything to happen, that it was a moment of weakness and alcohol that fueled your actions.

Sam never responded. 

You stayed home from work, you could let your co-workers handle the workload while you tried to reconcile with Sam. 

You tossed the clothes that you’d worn the night you’d gone to the bar, the ones that the bartender haphazardly ripped off your body. You didn’t want any reminders of your night with the complete and total stranger. 

You wallowed in your self-pity for the remainder of the week, hoping, praying, that eventually Sam would come home. Even after the worst fights, Sam always came back to you, neither of you had much family outside of each other.

After ten agonizing days, Sam finally comes home. His normally clean-shaven face is covered by a forming beard, and he has large bags under his eyes.

You burst into tears when Sam walks through the door, running to him, apologizing, telling him how much you missed him. He tenses against you when you wrap your arms around him, but he doesn’t pull away. 

The two of you hold each other for what feels like hours, and you promise to do whatever it takes to salvage your marriage. Sam promises to work less, and be a more present partner, as if somehow the fact that you cheated was his fault. 

You don’t share a room for the next few weeks, both of you agreeing that it would be better for the time being. You offer to let him have your bedroom, you were the one who screwed everything up with him in the first place, the least you could do was let him sleep in his own bed. 

After two weeks though, you find yourself sneaking into bed with him in the middle of the night. You just want to be near him, feel his warmth around you, even if there were times when he still pulled away. 

You hadn’t been back to the bar since the bartender, not that you had any desire to; you didn’t need any reminders of your indiscretion. 

“My brother’s going to come over for dinner,” Sam said as he walked in the door. He’d made good on his promise, he was no longer working late nights and the two of you were slowly making your way to how it used to be.

“Your brother?” You question as he leans in and presses a gentle kiss against your lips.

Ever since you’d married, it had just been the two of you. Your parents died shortly after you’d met Sam, and he rarely spoke about his own. You knew his mother died when he was an infant, and his father seemingly went off the deep end. You knew he had a brother, but he hadn’t spoken to him since he’d arrived at Stanford. 

“Dean,” he pulled away. “He just moved to the area. He wants to reconnect. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is,” you smile as he sits next to you. “I thought you hadn’t spoken in years.”

“He reached out a few weeks ago. After–” He doesn’t finish the thought, and you silently thank God or whoever when the doorbell breaks the tension between you. Sam placed a kiss on your forehead before making for the door.

“Sammy,” a low voice fills the air, and there is something almost familiar about it. 

You stand to meet the brother-in-law you’ve never met before, ready to accept the new person into your life. 

You couldn’t get a good look at the man as he walked behind Sam, and you chuckle at how much Sam towers over his brother. 

“Y/N, this is Dean. Dean, this is my wife, Y/N,” Sam steps to the side, and your heart falls into your chest. 

The bartender.

Dean reaches out his hand to you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. You take it, hoping that Sam won’t notice your sweaty palms. 

“Hey there, sweetheart. Sammy’s told me a lot about you.”

Part 3

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - When Lovely meets Angel

Summary: When the boyfriends are away, their partners try their best to be functioning members of society. Spoiler alert: they failed. 

Tw: [Mentions of Adam], [Profanity] and [Very, very brief mention of drugs. Like, half a sentence]

I shared this oneshot in the Discord server and I thought to share it here too before uploading it on AO3 later this weekend. 

-

You smile as your eyes do their best to track Vincent’s every move. Your head spins as your boyfriend flits from one room to another, never pausing for even a second. His duffel bag is lying beside you on the couch, gradually full of clothes, toiletries and other travelling necessities as he chucks them in Mach speed. 

You pick up the clothes that didn’t make it into the bag. You fold them nicely before placing them in with the rest. 

“Alright, I’ve stocked up the pantry to last at least for a few weeks, b-but I’ll be back by Sunday so don’t worry.” The blur that was Vincent said as he ran from their shared bedroom to the kitchen. With a fond shake of your head, you observe the Vampire made one last round. 

Letting Vincent fuss is your way of helping him calm down. And sure enough, it only takes a few minutes until your boyfriend is satisfied with the apartment - from the wards that he erected to the well-stocked kitchen and rows of laundry detergents. With the way he prepared for his departure, you couldn’t help but want to remind Vincent that he’ll only be leaving for three days; not three months. 

“Do you have Alexis’ number, Lovely? Sam’s?” Vincent asks - again - in concern as he pad towards you and the duffel bag. “Hang on, I’ll forward them to you now -” 

You grab his hand before he could reach for his phone and force him to sit beside you on the couch. You peck him on the cheek to startle him. No matter how many times you’ve done this; Vincent always reacts the same. Startled with a tinge of red dusting his pale cheeks. A simple kiss is enough to leave him speechless and it never fails to make your heart skip a beat at how precious he is. 

“Yes, you gave them to me this morning. I have their numbers on speed dial for any emergency of the Adam kind.” You easily assure him, only to backtrack quickly when you see how wide his eyes went. Oh yikes, bad move! Bad move! “N-Not that there will be any problem! Haha! I mean, you’re only going away with Will for three days, right? I can hold the fort, don’t worry!” 

Vincent bit his lower lip, still hesitant. “I wish I didn’t have to go, Lovely. It hurts to be away from you…” His head tilts down and holds your hand tight, yet always mindful of his Supernatural strength. “Sometimes… sometimes I could still see you in Adam’s arms, so pale and sick… your blood on his mouth - ”

“Hey, hey, Vince? Look at me please.” You gently tilt his chin using your hand that wasn’t captured by your worrisome boyfriend. You made sure to properly look him in the eyes before smiling softly. “You got me in time and for that? I’m forever grateful, but that’s in the past, OK? I’m here now with you! We both have been making good progress at D.A.M.N so that has to count for something, yeah? We’re both stronger than we were before.” 

That earns a tiny smile from Vincent and you mentally cheer in victory. “You always know what to say, huh, Lovely? And yeah, we’re pretty badass now, huh? A Vampire and an Electro Energetic? We’ll conquer this city in less than a month.” He joked. 

You try to picture it: you and Vincent - the King and Queen of Dahlia. The first thing you would do is declare PJ Friday - where everyone must wear PJs every Friday and those that wear the silliest PJs get brownie points. Collect enough of them and they’ll get a free meal in the most expensive restaurant Dahlia has to offer. Vincent can handle the boring stuff like, governing and health care. 

...Now that’s a thought; Vincent as a politician. 

Ah wait - Will would probably be disappointed in them if they tried to do a hostile takeover of this city and you couldn’t bear to disappoint him. After all, no one can pull off the perfect sad dad look other than Vincent’s Sire. Not even your own dad! 

“ - Lovely? Uh, Earth to Lovely? You there?” 

Vincent’s warm voice broke you off from your mad train of thoughts. You flash a sheepish grin when he realised that you haven’t paid a single word he said. Vincent wants to appear annoyed but his lips are twitching, as if he’s holding back from laughing at the dumbfounded expression on your face. 

“Sorry, babe. I spaced out because Will was disappointed in us.”  

“...What? Will? Lovely, what the - ”

“Anyway, don’t worry about me.” You quickly interject before you have to explain yourself. “You got me food, Alexis’ and Sam’s numbers are on my speed dial and my powers have been growing nicely over the last few classes. I got this; you got this.” To seal the deal you added, “And I promise to call you twice a day; in the morning and before I go to bed. Sounds good?” 

That finally assured Vincent. The tension melts away from his taunt shoulders and when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet. You would’ve loved to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him on top of you and turn this into something more, but Will would surely call him if Vincent is late. 

Vincent moans when you pull away; disappointed and slightly frustrated. “Easy there, Vince. I’ll make sure to give you a very warm welcome when you get back.” You purr, loving how his eyes lid at your promise. 

But alas, as much as you love to drag Vincent to the bedroom, work comes first. So you allow Vincent to fuss around a little more before he slings the duffel bag over one shoulder, kisses you goodbye and leaves. 

Now, you planned this. You have a whole itinerary in your head for the days that Vincent is on a business trip with the King of the Solaire Clan. Assignments that need to be done, Despacito to learn on the piano (neither of them knew why Alexis dropped off an upright piano in their apartment on a random ass Wednesday night and when asked, she just cackled before pulling off a Batman and vanished into the night. So Vincent gave up trying to pester the answer out of her. You still think it’s some sort of an elaborate prank), boba pizza to cook for dinner tomorrow and a list of video games to pre-order so really, you would be so busy for the upcoming days that you wouldn’t even have the time to miss Vincent. 

If you repeat that long enough, you hope that’ll become true. 

Glancing at the clock hanging on the living room wall, you sigh at the time.10.30 PM. A little early to get ready for bed but hey, it’s not like there’s anything else that you want to do now. 

With little fanfare, you make sure that the apartment is locked and secure, switch off the lights before heading to the bedroom for your nightly ablutions.

-

Ok, that part about the itinerary? Yeah, that’s completely out of the window the moment you wake up missing Vincent’s arms around you. 

The gentle and warm sun rays pierce through the sheer curtains, promising a bright day ahead of you, but all you could think about is the space in this bedroom. Was the bed always this big? Was the bedroom always this quiet? Those questions rattled in your brain and it really doesn’t help that you can smell Vincent’s faint cologne lingered on the pillows. Soothing vanilla that never fails to clear your mind as opposed to sandalwood and bergamot. Vincent once claimed that the scent is too fancy for someone like him. 

Right now though? His cologne sends a pang of longing in your heart in his absence, and it’s only the first day! 

“I can’t stay here.” You decided out loud when the tangle of sleepiness ebbed away. Kicking the thick duvet off your body, you stomp to the bathroom to shower, dress up and quickly leave the apartment with nothing but your phone and backpack. 

You didn’t want to return to an empty apartment, so what better than walking around the city to distract yourself? Grab some breakfast at a new cafe, maybe do some window shopping afterwards… yeah, that sounds way better than anything you’ve planned before. 

Joggers pass you by as you walk through the park and the city slowly comes back to life. People are out and about, going through their monotonous day. Some are catching the bus, others are like her, eager to find something to eat. 

You recall that your classmate mentioned that they and someone named Damien found a Taiwanese bakery/cafe that recently opened up near the city’s library; a quaint little shop, squeezed between a hardware shop and a health & beauty care chain store. You can still remember how their eyes lit up as they excitedly described the brioche and the strawberry tiramisu they ate with vivid details. 

So that’s where you’re headed off to now. 

Apparently, the bakery is closer than you thought when you cut corners and jump through the shortcuts. Being born and raised here in Dahlia like so many others, you knew this city like the back of your hand. Though the existence of Shifters, Vampires, Daemons and more were a slap in the face to you.

Oh, that reminds you, be sure to ask Vincent if the Vampires have anything similar to Fangtasia here in this city. 

The bell above the door chimes when you enter the bakery. The sign outside says ‘OPEN’ but since it’s still quite early in the morning, you and a couple sitting at a table near the corner are the only customers currently. Manning behind the cashier is a young woman and her co-worker setting up freshly baked goods behind the display glass. 

You made a beeline to the counter. 

“Good morning. Uh, can I please have one sea salt coffee - regular size - one red bean mooncake and, umm…” You paused to scan the menu laid before you. “And a marble taro.” 

There. That's sort of a healthy breakfast, right? 

The young woman hardly bats an eye at your order. She drawl out the total amount of your food and drink to which you hand her some cash before choosing a table beside the large window so you could see the city and her people go about their lives. The scent of freshly baked pastries, hot chocolates and brewed coffees wash over you pleasantly. 

You couldn’t help but wonder if Vincent would love this place as much as you do… 

The cashier came over with a tray of your order before your musing could spiral down further. You thank her, snap a picture of your food and coffee for Vincent before enjoying your breakfast. It’s a perfect morning, well, almost a perfect morning… 

Halfway through your coffee, your phone vibrates. Vincent had texted back: 

‘Looks delish, Lovely! Make sure to finish your meal, OK? My flight was a nightmare - I’ll spare you the details - but Will and I reached the airport safely. I’ll call you soon, Lovely. I love you, always.’ 

Vincent’s text helps to fill his absence, somewhat. You polish off the last bit of your coffee and exhale loudly; there’s no use moping around. Adventure awaits! After all, there’s never a dull day here in Dahlia. For all you know, something is right around the corner just for you! 

Tummy warm and full, you bask in the morning light for a few more minutes before exiting the bakery. 

...And promptly collide with a walking furnace. Because seriously, the moment your chest hits them, it feels as if their body heat lunges at you.

“Ow!” You fell and landed hard on your ass. Whoever had the misfortune to collide against you, they were a tad taller and seemed to be in a rush to be able to hit you with an impact. 

“Oh fuck! I’m so so sorry! Are you alright!? I ran too fast because I always missed out on their marble taros! Oh gosh, oh gosh; can you hear me? Shit, I really hope I didn’t hurt you too badly…” The stranger rambled worriedly. 

“I-I’m fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.” You assured them and gladly grabbed the offered hand. They gently pull you up from the pavement. 

“You sure? I can take you to the hospital right now if you want!” They pressed on, eyes checking for any sign of injuries on your body. “Just after I buy my pastries though.” 

You didn’t expect the blatant honesty; the idea that some loaves of bread are this person's top priorities crack you up. You couldn’t help it, so you burst out a giggle. 

“I’m good, I’m good; don’t worry.” You hiccup and wipe a stray tear from the corner of your right eye. You can’t believe this. “Go get your bread and oh, for the record? I totally get why you rush here. Their marble taro is really something else. You better hurry up; I heard the cashier said they’ll be making the last batch for the day.”

You smirk when the walking furnace’s eyes widen in horror. They darted into the bakery without a single word. The bell chimes loudly when they rush to yank the door and scramble towards the counter.

Just for the fuck of it, you lean against the window and decide to wait. Snippets of frantic conversation can be heard inside and it wasn’t long before the bell tinkle once more. 

The stranger that bumped into you pout, clutching a huge paper bag of pastries close to their chest as if they feared you would snatch it. “You lied.” 

“Shocker, I know.” You tease and then you feel your blood froze despite the warm morning. You suddenly recalled where and from whom you heard those words before and quickly stomped the image out of your head. 

“Uh, dude? Are you sure you’re alright? You look super pale.” The stranger narrowed their eyes on you. Despite the blatant concern on their face and how genuinely friendly and cheerful their voice is, you get the feeling that they’re trying to pull you apart by the seams to see if you would lie or not. 

So you opt for the honest option. “I will be.” You assured them. “Just some… bad memories pop up.” 

“Huh, well that sucks.” They glance at the bag of pastries for a moment, silent and contemplating. They then thrust it practically in your face before you could do so much as flinch. “You want some? Food always helps me feel good when I’m sad.” 

The loaves of bread smelled really good but for the second time, you giggled. “No, no, I’m full. Thank you though; that’s very kind of you to offer.” 

“It’s only the right thing to do.” They reply with an easy shrug. You get the feeling that the stranger’s kindness is something remarkable. “The name is -” 

Across the street, a truck driver pressed the horn when the car in front of him refused to budge despite the traffic lights having switched from red to green for ten minutes now.

“ - but you can call me Angel; all my friends do. Now that we’ve bumped into one another, your destiny just altered. Our fates will forever be intertwined once you give me your name.” 

Oh, you like where this is going.

“I’m - ” The driver in front of the truck kicked open his door and proceeded to shout at the truck driver. A line of cars gradually formed behind the vehicle and horns began to blare as a brawl broke out in the middle of the road. “ - nice to meet you!” 

“A lovely name…” Here your new friend - Angel - trailed off, their eyes appraising your body. “For a lovely soul. Lovely. Huh. Can I call you that?” 

Gorgeous, brimming with moxie mix with a spoonful of friendly flirting? Oh, you like them more and more by the second. 

Also, you idly wondered if there’s some weird magic attached to your name or else this is going to be a pattern every time you introduce yourself. 

“Sure.” You answered, and the two of you shook hands. 

“Say… who do you think would win? Godzilla or King Kong?” 

“Psh, is that even a question? Godzilla, obviously. He’s the king of monsters for a reason! And grandpa got his Atomic Breath; what does Kong even have?” 

“You. I like you. I have a feeling that this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.” 

When there’s no escaping from Angel’s octopus arm of love and friendship around your shoulders, you let yourself be swept away. 

-

“So you’re an Electro Energetic?” 

“Yup.” 

“Got any plans on what you’re going to be in the future?” 

“To shed my mortal body and transform into King Ghidorah.”

“...Can I be the left head?”

“I was hoping you’d ask that. We need the right head, though.” 

“I’ll give my friend a call; they’re a Freelancer studying at D.A.M.N too. Maybe you’ve seen them around?”

-

“Wait - you said your boyfriend is a Vampire?”

“He’s more of a dork than a Vampire, but yeah.”

“Cool, cool. Hey, my boyfriend is a Werewolf. Do you know what this means?” 

“...Twilight marathon?” 

“Twilight marathon! We have to do it. Let’s go, Lovely; you’re going to crash at my place for the best movie night of your life!” 

“I’ll grab some food and drinks from my place. Will be there in twenty minutes.” 

-

“This is the third time I’ve watched these movies and I think they just got worse over the years.” You complained, chugging down your fourth can of Red Bull. You don’t drink, so you wondered if this is how it feels like to slowly go drunk. Or high. 

You’re in your sleep wear - a simple black shorts and one of Vincent’s t-shirts. Exhausted, stomach bloated with snacks; you feel like shit. Your body is seconds away from saying fuck it and crash down. 

And yet you’ve never felt so alive before. 

The time on your phone says it's 3.23 AM; you and Angel slough through the first two movies and now finally, the end credits for Eclipse roll down on the TV screen. Angel lives with their boyfriend - who was on a business trip, coincidentally - in a very homely apartment. When you first entered, you could tell just what sort of couple they are. 

The place looks as if a small tornado tried to turn the apartment upside down but was fended off just barely - little knick knacks such as rainbow beaded bracelets were carelessly thrown on the kitchen counter behind a microwave, a crop top with printed bongo cats floating within a glittered galaxy is drape over a dining chair, three heart-shaped balloons knock against one another from the living room’s ceiling and for some reason, the USB stereo is on the floor playing Black Pink’s Pretty Savage. 

The other half of the apartment - the more organised side - are filled with neatly shelved books of all genres, an untouched bowl of fruits are on the coffee table and most of the expensive-looking dishes and silverwares are displayed behind a glass cabinet. Those were probably gifts from family and friends. 

You spend an entire day here, engaging in stupid but fun conversations with Angel, painted each others’ nails and even shop online for the sluttiest outfit that you two could find just for the hell of it before binge-watching the entire Twilight series. 

Unlike you, however, Angel is buzzing around like a hyperactive bunny on crackhead energy. Halfway through New Moon, she busted out stacks of colourful sticky notes, some thumbtacks and a huge yarn ball. You watch with utter fascination as they begin to furiously write down every little thing about the Vampires and Werewolves representations from the movies to your and their boyfriend. 

It’s 3.25 AM now. The entire living room wall looks like an abstract form of an art piece, made of common stationeries. 

Hair in a messy bun, a stick of strawberry pocky dangling from their lips like a lit cigarette, a black sharpie in one hand and dressed in black cat onesie, Angel tapped on the piece of red sticky note that wrote ‘culture appropriation or nah?’

“So what have we learned so far?” 

“Vampires don't sparkle.” You immediately piped up and this time, cracked open a can of black coffee. A brand name from Japan, but the bitter tang immediately zolt your already fried nerves to maximum level. You love it. “Period.” 

“Noted! Now, does this make Stephenie Meyer racist!?” 

You actually had to pause and consider that. “Will need to get you back on that one.” 

Angel hurried to scribble ‘remind Lovely for feedback’ inside the same note. “Very well. We shall move on to the Werewolves.” They start to list down the characteristics of the Werewolves portrayed in the movies and then compare them to their boyfriend; but the thing is, they didn’t realise that they verbally list down the quirks of their Shifter lover instead. 

You find it cute that Angel rambled on and on about someone named Davey, so you didn’t interrupt them. Hell, you’d be the same with Vincent. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you got sidetracked from comparing your lovers to spilling the tea about your relationships. 

“After we first slept together, I said to Davey, “Thanks for the sex, bro” complete with a peace sign and a wink. He got so mad that he refused to let me off the bed until I promised to stay.” Angel laughs fondly. They tear open a bag of Cheetos Puffs and throw one into your open mouth. The two of you celebrate with a high-five. 

“Vince freaked out when I told him he was my first.” You chewed, swallowed and washed the after taste of the junk food with even more coffee. Who needs sleep when you could reach divinity with cans of Red Bulls, Kirin Fire coffees and junk foods. “He was extra sweet to me the next day as if he was trying to make up for how rough he was. You could totally see how precious he is from Pluto.” 

“That’s so cute!” Angel cooed. “You’ve landed the golden D, dude. Congrats.” 

“Sounds like you’re the same. To us!” 

You clink your can of coffee with Angel’s bottle of Mountain Dew. 

Eventually, the night made way to the rising sun and the final scene of Breaking Dawn came to a close. The living room is a total mess - blankets and pillows are strewn all over the floor, empty bags of chips, cans and bottles are underneath the coffee table and you swore that one rolled underneath the couch and the wall is still a sad, modern version of cubism with strings. 

“So…” You tilt your head to stare at a wide-eyed Angel, still buzzing with energy. “Want to play Mario Kart? Loser has to let the winner dress them for the day.” 

“You’re on! I hope you like crop tops” 

-

Vincent couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. The airport is bustling with people rushing for their early morning flights despite dawn barely peeking from the horizon. Like most of the humans around them, Vincent and Will are waiting for their boarding gate to open. 

Speaking of Will, he had wandered off to inquire about their time of arrival to one of the help counters somewhere near the vending machines that they passed. 

These past three days felt like three years without Lovely at his side. Vincent was an idiot to think that a few simple phone calls were enough to chase the yearning of his undead heart for his lover. His sweet and strong, Lovely. 

How are they right now? Judging from the different time zones, Vincent reckoned that it’s nearly midnight where the city of Dahlia is right now. Is Lovely getting ready for bed? What did they have for dinner? How was their day? 

An amused chuckle startled Vincent from his musing. “Oh Vincent, did your phone somehow insult you? You’ve been glaring at it for at least five minutes since I’ve returned.” 

“G-Geez! Don’t sneak up on me like that, old man.” Vincent mumbled, he nearly dropped his phone from his Sire’s sudden and silent appearance. 

“Apologies. Perhaps you should give them a call?” Will suggested as he took a seat beside him. He offers a warm, knowing smile at Vincent’s confused expression. “You wore a lovelorn expression when you stared at your phone. Do us both a favour and call your Lovely, hmm?” 

“...I shouldn’t. They’re probably sleeping - ”

“Maybe. Or maybe not. For all you know, they might still be up, waiting for you to call them.” 

Vincent gave in. He desperately needed to hear Lovely's voice. Besides, their sleepy whines are so adorable and he misses them terribly. 

Will occupied himself with a John Grisham book while Vincent pressed familiar numbers and held his phone up to his ear. Lovely answered in less than a minute. 

“Hey, Lovely.” Vincent greets, feeling the uneasiness and longing untangled themselves from his chest. He can’t wait to return home and have them in his arms again. The next time he has to go on a business trip again, he’ll bring Lovely along. If Will has a problem with it, he could take Alexis. “Sorry for calling you again so late at night. I… I just need to hear your voice again. Anyway, are you on the bed - ”

“Oh my god, did you just throw your underwear at me!?” 

“Uh, Lovely?” 

Vincent immediately pull the phone away when his ear is assaulted by a cacophony of K-pop music blaring in the background, accompanied by an obnoxious laugh of glee and Lovely’s mutterings of “That slut is going to get it now”, “300% sugar in your boba tea? Dude, just do cocaine instead!” and “Oh, Dilf alert! He has a French accent too? A solid 8/10 from me, definitely.” 

Beside him, Will snorts. He happily ignores the glare Vincent threw at him and flips a page. 

But for a brief, crazy moment, Vincent was struck with fear at the thought of his lover harbouring a secret crush on his Sire. He still remembers how freely Lovely blush and giggle whenever Will was around.

“Lovely? Is everything alright?” Vincent tries again, straining to hear through the music and someone’s chattering. Who is with his Lovely past midnight? He starts to worry and feel… a little uncomfortable. 

“Vincent? What’s up, baby? You don’t usually call me so late.” Lovely reply, sounding a bit distracted. Suddenly, Vincent heard a crash, followed by a, “It’s not broken! It’s all good!” 

“Where are you? What’s going on? Are you at a party?” Vincent didn’t demand, he inquired as firmly as possible. Flashes of his Lovely dancing at a club or hanging out with some faceless man and woman keep popping in his mind. It stirs his bloodlust. 

Will idly pat his hand to calm Vincent down, eyes still glued to his book. 

“I’m at home; had a friend over for the night. The apartment is just… too quiet without you.” 

Lovely’s easy and genuine admittance settled something feral inside of Vincent. He guessed that his lover and their friend must be having a sleepover. 

“I’m sorry that I had to leave, Lovely.” Vincent murmurs. “Will and I are at the airport right now. We should be boarding in thirty minutes.” Here, he paused and continued in a quieter tone, “I’ve missed you so much, Lovely. I’ve left my heart with you and… well, it’s just not the same without you.”

“See!? Prime example of a golden D there, Lovely!” Someone - Vincent assumed is his lover’s friend - shriek in the background. 

Their sudden shriek didn’t surprise him. What did, however, was another, stranger’s voice joining in their conversation. 

From a couple of seats, right in front of Vincent. Right here in the airport. 

“Don’t shriek into the phone, Angel! Are you trying to make me go deaf in one ear!?” 

The man - no, Shifter, grumbled. Vincent could smell the scent of lush forest and dirt around him; a Werewolf, then. But his nature wasn’t the reason why Vincent’s jaw is hanging open. 

Will, who had given up the pretence of reading his book, couldn’t hold himself back from grinning widely. He already connected the dots, unlike Vincent. “Oh my, isn’t that Alpha Shaw? He must be on a business trip as well! What a small world.” 

Luckily Vincent was clutching his phone tightly or not he would’ve dropped it in shock. Alpha Shaw? No way… David Shaw!? The Alpha of the Werewolf’s pack in Dahlia!? What the fuck - 

“Turn down the volume, Angel, before the neighbours call the police!” Lovely shouted back. 

In front of him, Vincent and Will watch the impressive scowl on David Shaw’s - the Werewolf King of Dahlia, himself - face. “Uh, excuse me? The fuck? It’s way past midnight, Angel. Where are you; who are you with?” 

“Looks like your lover made a new friend.” Will said in mock-whisper. Even though both of them knew full well that the Shifter wouldn’t be able to hear them from where they are in his human form. “I have a feeling that the Shaw pack and the Solaire clan will be closely in touch in the coming days.” 

Vincent shakes his head; truly, his Lovely is something else. Without hesitation, the Vampire Prince got up to introduce himself to the annoyed Werewolf. He didn’t take it personally when the Shifter shot him a glare for interrupting his phone call. If looks could kill, well, let’s just say that Vincent is thankful that being a Vampire means that he’s not about to be a Werewolf’s chew toy anytime soon. 

“Hi. I’m Vincent Solaire - yes, you heard that right - and before you ask, I’m pretty sure our lovers are currently hanging out at my place right now.” 

That got the Alpha to do a wonderful imitation of a statue. He wouldn’t look out of place at the Louvre, Vincent thought.

David exhales loudly - as if he damn close to being done with everything that this world has to offer - before addressing his lover on the other side of the phone. “The things you got yourself into, you damn troublemaker.” No doubt that David probably isn’t too keen to know that his mate is friends with a Vampire’s lover, but Will has a knack for turning enemies to allies; he’ll let his Sire deal with the politics once they get back to Dahlia. 

“You love me!” Angel smugly replied. “Oh and guess what? We binge watched the entire Twilight movie series and we got some questions!” 

“And uh, just a heads up.” Lovely’s voice hesitantly chimes through Vincent’s phone. “We haven’t slept since you guys left. I mean, I slept the day you left Vince, but, uh...” 

Vincent winces and politely ignores David’s flow of cursing under his breath. 

They left home for only three days, surely their apartments are still standing and their lovers aren’t drunk, high or planning to commit anarchy!

...Right? 

[wannabemobwife]

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Guns, bombing, language, murder, blood, hints to smut (none actual smut), typos, shitty writing, torture I guess

-Words: 4.9K

A/n: Can we get back to mob stuff? Please. I want to apologize for this chapter, it is absolute shit and I could tell by writing it. Kind of a filler chapter. Sorry it is long.

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Words: 4.9K

It had been a week, since you got your memories back and you declared your love for Tom once more. Right after that, you and Tom were on the first train to Paris, refusing to fly for awhile.

You and Tom returned last night, just in time to see Parker and Rosie off to school the next morning. While you and Tom had been enjoying a second honeymoon in the city of love, Nikki and Dom so graciously offered to watch the kids. Everything was falling back into full swing. Parker and Rosie were going to school regularly. Rosie spending all her time with Henry and Parker still living his secret double life.

Things going back to normal. Somewhat.

It was a typical morning, but anytime everyone every thinks that, something gets massively screwed up. You woke up early to make pancakes and bacon.

“So what is plan for everyone today?” You asked, sipping at your steaming cup of coffee.

“Well, Rosie and I have school,” Parker explained.

“I have plans with Henry,” Rosie chimed in.

“I have meetings all day, love.” Tom said, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Ok, so I’m all alone today,” you muttered, a little disappointed.

“I’m sorry darling, you could join me. You know much I love it when you sit in my lap during meetings. Really show them who’s boss,” Tom said, wrapping you in his embrace.

“No, it’s ok. I have some errands to run anyway.”

“Alright, angel. I love you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“I love you too. Come on, kids. In the car we go.” You said, pushing everyone out the door.

“Why is Jared not driving?” Parker asked.

“Cause, I have errands to run and besides he’s driving your dad today.”

“Now let’s go.” You said as Parker and Rosie hopped into the car.

Tom was having a hard time returning to his mob personality. Some business was conducted in Paris, you tagged along and enjoyed every minute of it. Tom sometimes overcompensated for not being as dangerous and intimidating. He had grown soft taking care of you after the helicopter crash. Helping you get your memory took most of his time, he had to step away from the mob for awhile. But you were his top priority.

Tom couldn’t remember the last time he sat in his office doing business. He missed it. He missed the thrill of torturing someone, having them beg for their life in front of him. He missed the feeling of firing his gun.

“Tom, you’re late,” Haz said as Tom got out of the car.

“Sorry not sorry Haz, I enjoyed breakfast with Y/N and the kids this morning,” Tom responded.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What? It’s never good news if it’s right when I get here.”

“We’re down two more.” Harrison mumbled referring to then decreasing number of soldiers part of the Holland Empire.

“Are you fucking serious? Haz, I’m so fucking tired of this bullshit. My men are getting fucking killed. Everything has gone to shit,” Tom screamed, enraged.

“Tom, we’ll figure it out. Just need to keep your cool.” Haz said, trying to avoid Tom’s wrath.

“Easier said than done. Alright, who’s here,” Tom asked, trying to forget about everything else.

“William.” Haz said with a straight face.

“What? Why? He’s always been loyal,” Tom questioned. One of his most valuable men, working against him, the rat?

“I got word from the soldiers he has been taking bribes from Parker,” Harrison explained.

“What the fuck for? Well, I guess we’ll find out.” Tom said, walking into the main room of the warehouse.

“William, I’d never thought it would be you in this chair.” Tom said, walking up to one of his most trusted employees.

“Tom, you gotta believe me. I didn’t do anything. I’m not the rat,” William pleaded. He knew what had been happening to the mob.

“Did you or did you not take money from Parker?” Tom asked.

“Yes, he just wanted to get out of the manor at night. So, he paid me to turn a blind eye.”

“Where was he going?”

“I don’t know, I assumed to some girl’s house.” “William, I trust you. So I’m going to let you off with a warning, but you can’t let him sneak out anymore. I’m afraid we are being targeted. If he tries to leave, you have to tell me.”

“Yes, boss. I’m sorry.” William apologized.

“It’s ok, but you understand what needs to happen right? I can’t be looking like I’ve gone soft,” Tom asserted.

“Yeah, I can take it. It’s ok,” William said, gritting his teeth as he waited for the collision of Tom’s fist to his cheek. Tom winded up to deliver one swift punch to William’s left eye. Not breaking the skin but creating a dark purple blotch.

All of Tom’s frustrations have been channeled into his mob duties. Each punch riddled with anger and frustration. A release of catharsis combined with blood. Tom wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume.

The rest of the day was full of uneventful meetings. Meetings with business associates, actual business associates for the company.

When Tom came home, he planned to confront Parker about his whereabouts if he tried to sneak out again. Everyone retired, you went to sleep first and Rosie went to her room. Parker said, he was going to bed but Tom could see right through him.

Tom was sitting in the den, sipping a glass of watered down whiskey. Waiting for his son to disobey him. At 11:55 PM, Parker made his way downstairs ever so slightly. Only to be met with the dagger eyes of Tom.

“Where the fuck do you think you are going?” Tom asked as Parker tried to sneakily leave.

“I… I thought I heard noise outside and I’m going to go check on it,” Parker stammered. Getting caught by Tom was not part of the plan.

“Oh, ok. Parker the guards can do that. Go back to bed.” Tom said, turning back to the TV in the den, broadcasting Raiders of the Lost Ark.

“Ok. Night, dad,” Parker said, trudging himself back up the steps.

“Night…. I know, you’re lying,” Tom whispered loud enough for Parker to hear.

“What? I’m not lying.”

“Parker, I know you’ve sneaking out for weeks and bribing William.”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Parker immediately started apologizing, no bother in trying to lie himself out of this one.

“Why have you been sneaking out?” Tom questioned, seething with anger but refusing to show it. Trying to have a mature adult conversation.

“I’ve been going to a girl’s house, her name is Jamie.”

“Oh, glad you find someone. You know after everything with Charlotte,” Tom replied.

“Well since I told you the truth, can I go? We made the plan a couple days ago and don’t want to cancel,” Parker lied.

“Alright, just be back before sunrise or your mother will have may head,” Tom informed him.

“Thanks dad, you should get some sleep,” Parker said, making his way out of the heavily guarded house.

Parker left as quickly as possible. He knew Wilson would be pissed for him being late. The talk with Tom was not how this was supposed to happen.

He couldn’t betray his family and himself anymore.

Parker hoped this was the last time he would have to talk to him. He planned to quit, after the conversation with Dom. Parker had become everything he hated, someone who kills for sport.

“Wilson, this is the last thing I’m doing then, I’m out,” Parker said, walking towards Wilson.

“We’ll talk about it later, my boy,” Wilson said, patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Alright who am I killing? You never gave me a target.” Parker shouted at Wilson walking.

“Oh, this isn’t a hit, it’s a robbery. Here’s your new firearm,” One of Wilson’s men explained, tossing a MP5K at him.

“You okay kid? You know if you’re too much of pussy the boss might understand,” jeered one of the men as Parker gulped at the size of the weapon.

“Fuck you, I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” Parker barked, trying to put his mind aside. He has never done anything like this. It wasn’t just one person he was killing, it was the possibility of having many causalities. Altering his persona from a hitman to a mass murderer.

A million thoughts flooded Parker’s mind. He wouldn’t be killing people who deserved it like before, contract killers or drug dealers, these were innocent people. Stupid people for gambling all their hard earned money away but nonetheless innocent.

Parker’s heart nearly stopped when he saw where the van pulled up to. A place he knew all too well, it was one of Tom’s casinos.

The company that Dom had built, but all the Holland boys sent thriving in the new century, was more than it seemed. Holland Exportation and Luxuries was much more than exporting goods.

It was casinos that ran all along the French Riviera, more specifically Monaco. It was hotels across the entire globe. It was a business but not the family one. More of a front for the mob but it paid the bills. Harry and Sam had been in charge of running and establishing the hotels and casinos across Europe.

“Y’know your way around, right? That’s why the boss put you on this.” One of men asked Parker as he fiddled with his new machine gun.

“I guess so.” Parker replied.

“Here’s a map. Where are the guards? Which posts?” Asked a soldier, pointing to the main entrance hallways, where security was sure to be.

“I don’t know.”

“So we’re going in there fucking blind? Fuck, thought you’d be good for something. Just stay out of our way,” yelled one of the capos.

“No. I’m taking point. If you have a problem, you can fucking talk to me about it along with my Glock,” Parker threatened.

“Alright. Don’t screw this up. The boss wants big bucks from this. Says “it’s step two in the fall of the empire.” Whatever the fuck that means.”

“On my count, 1, 2… 3,” Parker screamed.

They came storming in, barricading all the entrances and exits. Parker and Wilson’s men clad in all black and payday masks. All various colors and designs. They looked as they were trick or treating.

This was the last thing Parker wanted to be doing. He came today to quit and now he was robbing a casino.

Parker kept repeating a mantra in his head “Last one, then I’m done” as held his gun high. Pointing it directly at innocents, he could see them shaking in fear.

“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW!” He shouted, aiming his machine gun high.

“Don’t you fucking touch that button. I know what it fucking does.” Parker barks at the person behind the token counter. “Open the vault.” Parker said, pointing the gun at him.

“Why should I?” remarked the worker.

“Cause I fucking said so and I’m threatening your life,” Parker explained

“Enough of this shit!” He screamed, firing a few rounds close to the worker but not hitting him.

“You don’t have to do this. You could walk out of here, all of you. And we could go on with our lives. No need for money or the cops.”

“I think we both know that’s not gonna happen. I’ll ask nicely, please open the vault,” Parker mocked. “Boss said “start killing hostages in 10 minutes.” One of the other men whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Did you fucking hear that? We’re gonna fucking kill you if you don’t cooperate. So I suggest you open… the fucking… vault.”

“Sir, we can’t.”

“See this gun. LOOK AT IT! It has the power to put a bullet through your skull. Open the fucking vault. I won’t ask a fifth time.”

“That’s it. Now, type in the code.” Parker directed towards them.

The vault door creaked open, revealing trappings of pure wealth. Money stacked on tables, almost reaching the ceiling. And gold bars, glistened as the light reflected off of them.

“Now was that so fucking hard. Take all of it. Everything, even the gold.” Parker said, directly towards his men.

“Thank you, you’ve served you purpose,” Parker said to the worker, shooting him dead not even 3 seconds later. The screams of the other hostages echoed through the vacated room.

“Now to everyone here, there’s already one dead. I don’t mind making it more,” Parker barked.

“What’s your name?” Parker asked the nice looking girl kneeling on the ground.

“It’s not nice to not answer when someone asks you question, especially someone with a 9 caliber MP5K in your face. I ask again. What’s your name?” Parker spoke.

“Jane,” she whispered, shaking with fear.

“Well Jane, I want to thank you for your cooperation. You are in charge of talking to the cops, ok? And let your boss know, that Wilson is always watching,” Parker said, as he turned to leave.

“I will but you won’t get as far as you hoped,” Jane asserted, trying not to irritate Parker.

“And why’s that?”

“I know you. I remember you. You’d come in here with your dad.”

“You don’t know fucking shit!” Parker screamed.

“I know your name and that puts me at a high position of power,” Jane expressed, growing less afraid by the second. Realizing he is just some scared boy. Maybe not afraid of his own shadow but broken down by the fear of the world.

“I’m the one pressing fucking gun to your head. I HAVE ALL THE POWER!” Parker vociferated loud enough to shake the chandelier hanging above.

“You wish. Men like you always wish.”

“Seems like you’re doing some wishing yourself sweetheart. Wishing to be escorted out of here in a body bag. Now shut your fucking trap.”

“Hey. Let’s go. Leave her.” One of the Wilson’s men said, pulling Parker towards the exit.

“He still loves you and he’ll forgive you for this,” Jane shouted as Parker left.

Refusing to turn back, he had taken enough lives from this ill attempt at revenge. Parker didn’t know who he was fighting against anymore. Who was the hero and who was the villain?

All the wrongdoings as vast as the sea. All his attempts to make someone pay were misconstrued. Who actually deserved it?

The words of the woman replayed in Parker’s head. She was like a broken record, forcing him to listen to a truth he hoped to forget. How could Tom forgive him? Parker knew what he done was unforgivable. It was a mistake, all of it.

Parker marched into Wilson’s office and said, “Ever since I started working for you, my family has been in danger. I thought my dad was the reason for my girlfriends death, but I was wrong. I guess I’ll never know. Here Wilson, my gun. I quit.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I own you. I could end you, boy. Just like I almost did your parents,” Wilson barked.

“What?” Parker questioned, a look of confusion are on his face.

“Oh, please. You really think it was just a malfunction,” Wilson scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” Parker asked.

“Their helicopter. Pretty brilliant work, if I do say so myself,” Wilson gloated.

“They almost died.”

“Yeah and so? Your dad is my enemy. That is the whole reason you came to me in the first place.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt them,” Parker screamed. “Promises are meant to be broken. They don’t call me the Merchant of Death for nothing.”

Wilson was ready for the fight and been the one pulling the strings the entire time. Tom warranted no quarrel. Never being the instigator in a fight with Wilson.

They had been divided for years to come, focusing on their separate mobs. Only acknowledging each other if they accidentally crossed paths. There was Wilson’s mob, then a few others scattered round London such as Graham’s which was almost non-existent and Shaw’s which was mostly the drug scene. But Wilson was Tom’s biggest competitor. Being a part of then game for years before didn’t matter, Tom eclipsed Wilson just like the sun does the moon.

Or the moon to the sun, that was exactly Wilson’s play from the start. Taking out the pillars of Tom’s life. First a reason to have his son turn on him, the death of a loved one. Next, removing you from Tom’s grasp. Eventually a play had to be made on Rosie. Leaving Tom utterly alone.

Only thoughts that would cross his mind be suicidal ones, having lost everything he ever cared about. It was a long play, one Wilson vowed to see through. Wilson saw all his work as justice and merciful. Almost biblical, they way everything was playing out.

“It was you. All along. The fucking puppet master,” Parker mumbled under his breath.

“If you are talking about your little girlfriend, that was strictly business, nothing personal. But yes, I have been the one behind the scenes driving your father mad. Remember the note?” Wilson exclaimed.

“She didn’t deserve to die,” Parker shouted.

“What? Are you really upset? That was ages ago. Plus, I had to get you on my side somehow,” Wilson teased.

“Wait, you knew I’d come here?”

“Parker, how stupid are you? When will you grow up and learn this rivalry is just the beginning of a war. What side are you going to be on? You have a choice. I’ve warmed to you and I want you on my side as I take your daddy down.”

“That’s your first fucking mistake don’t have any weaknesses,” Parker admitted, taking a lesson from Tom. He drew is gun, point blank at Wilson.

“Parker, what are you doing? Put the gun down,” Wilson pleaded for his life.

“No, you made me into a cold blooded killer. Not my dad. I quit.”

BANG

After a loud thud sounded, the room was silent. Only a faint smell of smoke from the gun was there as Parker fled as quickly as possible.

Parker made his way home that night a changed man. All his kills in the pass were strictly business. Never driven by emotion but this one was personal.

It wasn’t a job or a hit. He was no longer a contract killer. Killing for the sake of money or an obligation. He was cold blooded killer.

In some twisted way, Parker enjoyed Wilson and his company. Looking up to him. He was then one who saved him from the horrible life he thought he was leaving behind. The one full of deceit and betrayal. The one with Tom, you and Rosie.

The one that led him to be next leader of the Holland mob. The one that resulted in the death of his beloved girlfriend. The one that had almost taken you and Tom away from him. The one that almost took his life. The one that forced him to kill for sport.

But no, he was wrong Parker brought that on himself. Parker’s naivety was his greatest enemy. He was just a child not too long ago. Once afraid of his own shadow, then afraid of failing at life and school, especially the SATs. Now, he was an adult burdened by problems a 16 year old should ever face. He could sit there and blame Tom, but it would do him no good when all he had to do was look in the mirror.

Parker was his own worst enemy. Searching for justice, when none could be found in a world wear mobsters roamed. Causing shootouts, robbing banks, and killing innocent people. People deserved to be avenged and Parker sure as hell wasn’t doing anything to aide.

Parker drove home, took four showers and threw his clothes away. Anything to wash off this abhorrent day. The next morning, Parker went on like nothing had changed. As if he didn’t shoot his boss and Tom’s rival in cold blood. As if didn’t only see himself as a cold blooded killer. Everything that he is and everything he owns soiled with the scent of murder.

He played it as though it was any other morning. Eating his pancakes and bacon before starting the day. Telling you about his plans for the day. Trying to keep his cool. The lovely morning breakfast conversation was interrupted once Tom’s phone rang.

RING, RING, RING

“Haz, why are you calling me? I’m having breakfast with my family,” Tom asked, annoyed his precious breakfast was interrupted. “Charlie is here, you need to get here. I have to tell you something,” Haz informed Tom. “Ok, I’m on my way,” Tom said, brushing off the request. Why would the

company’s electrical engineer for aeronautical transportation be there?

“Love, I’m so sorry but I’m needed at the warehouse. Thank you for this wonderful breakfast, wish I could enjoy it. Bye, kids. Have a good day at school,” Tom said, making his way out the door. Bidding you all goodbye.

“Haz, what’s was so urgent that I couldn’t finish my breakfast.” Tom barked, annoyed he was pulled away from you and the kids even on a Saturday.

“We were robbed last night. The casino.” Haz explained, his head hanging low.

“How the fuck? Did they catch them?” Tom seethed with anger.

“No, we do have eye witnesses though.”

“How much is missing?”

“About 11 million dollars, from cash to gold bars.” Haz said, waiting for Tom to explode.

“FUCK. We need to make them pay. I’m done playing fucking games.” Tom shouted, calming himself down for his meeting with Charlie.

“Now, you said Charlie was here, right?”

“Yeah, in your office.”

“Charlie? What are you doing here?” Tom asked, a little annoyed he was taken away from his morning with his family.

“Tom, I ran my report and did diagnostics tests and it’s not good,” Charlie started.

“What the fuck does that mean, Charlie?” Tom yelled.

“I think the helicopter was sabotaged.”

“What? You mean is that someone tried to take out my wife and I while we were on a helicopter,” Tom repeated, making all the connections necessary .

“Yes, it wasn’t just a normal malfunction. Did they ever find the pilot?” Charlie asked.

“No… Jesus fucking christ, if it’s true then…Fuck, I’m sorry I have to go,” Tom yelled, running out to the car.

“Jared, home now.”

“Mr. Holland is everything alright?” Jared asked, concerned by Tom’s frantic manner.

“No. I just found out the helicopter was sabotaged. I think someone might being trying to take out Y/N and I.”

“Come on baby, pick up,” Tom whispered, frantically dialing your number over and over.

“Y/N answer the god damm phone!” Tom shouted, when heard the same voice message over and over again, “Hi, this Y/N Holland please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“God fucking dammit. Fuck, voicemail. Jared do you know where my wife is?” Tom yelled, afraid what your silence meant.

“Last I heard she was at the store getting groceries,” Jared explained.

“Fuck, I have here location on my phone. Change course,” Tom barked, praying you were okay. With the information he just learned he didn’t want to leave you alone, not even for a second.

“Y/N! You’re okay.” Tom said, inhaling a breath of relief. You were coming out of the store pushing a cart of groceries.

“Tom! Of course, I’m okay. What are you doing here?” You asked.

“I’ll explain later. Get Parker and Rosie we need to go home now.”

“They’re already home. Henry’s there also. You’re scaring me.” You said, Tom never acts like this.

Being a part of a mob there is a constant fear of someone behind you. All throughout Tom’s life he only had to worry about himself until he met you.

Tom’s worst fear is him being the reason you no longer walk the earth. The last week he had glimpse of life without you and didn’t care for it one bit. You weren’t a weakness but at the same time, you were. For anyone with a dangerous job there’s always a target on your back.

“Come on, love. In the car,” Tom motioned towards the car.

“Tommy, my car is here. I’ll meet you there,” you said, kissing his cheek goodbye.

“Ok just be careful please.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, Jared. Home now plea—“ Tom directed but was cut off by a loud BOOM.

“Jared, what the fuck was that?” Tom asked.

“Sir, it was Mrs. Holland’s car.”

“Y/N! Y/N?” Tom jumped out of the car. Nothing else mattered in that moment, only finding you.

Time stood still as thick black smoke bled through the air. Coating everything in its path with a faint ash. Screams echoed from the bystanders as the car went up in flames.

“Tom, I’m okay. It wasn’t mine.” You exasperated, coughing from the smoke. It wasn’t your car but it was close in proximity.

“Thank god. I can’t keep almost losing you,” Tom whispered, kissing you hairline.

“I’m here now.” The second you were in his arms you knew you were safe.

“Yes you are. It sure does look hell a lot like yours, though. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Tom said, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder.

Pulling up to the manor, everything looked different. There were more guards posted at every corner with heavier weaponry. Tom had the gate barricaded with another car in case some where to ram into the gate.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” Haz said

“They tried to bomb Y/N’s car. Thankfully the dumb fucks who planted it, picked the wrong car.”

“Tom you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. Family meeting in the living room. Now.”

“Some of us have some secrets to share. I want to know everything that happened here while your mother and I were in Paris. Someone start talking,” Tom said, pacing in front of Parker and Rosie sitting on the couch.

Rosie and Parker were both hiding something. Rosie’s however was a rather monumental milestone. Rosie reminisced of her wonderful night with Henry while you and Tom were away. She loved Henry so much and was overjoyed to share that experience with him.

Rosie had told Henry at the wedding that she was ready to take that next step with him. Seeing you and Tom re-commit yourselves to one another affirmed that for Rosie. That she loved him more than anything.

“I’m sorry, dad. You don’t have to worry, we were safe,” Rosie blurted out.

“What?” Tom barked growing more anger by the second.

“Henry and I used a condom,” Rosie responded.

“Rosie?” You questioned, knowing what she was talking about.

“WHAT?” Tom screamed.

“That’s not what you were hinting at?” Rosie stammered.

“No, this is about Parker,” Tom reckoned.

“Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Where the fuck is he?” Tom yelled, bolting out of the living room. Looking for the boy who had stolen Rosie’s innocence. You and Rosie soon followed hoping Tom wouldn’t do anything rash.

“Dad!”

“Tom!”

“Henry, you bastard! You fucked my daughter!” Tom shouted charging at Henry.

“Oh shit,” Henry muttered, he knew Tom could kill him in an instant.

“You went in my daughter! What’s stopping me from killing you right now.” Tom asked with gritted teeth, hoping this dumbass wouldn’t answer.

“Tom, put him down,” you said, as Tom was gripping his collar and dangling him in the air.

“Daaaadddd.”

“Tom, please,” you pleaded as Tom held a gun square to Henry’s head.

“The safety is on, I was never gonna shoot him. Just make him shit his pants a little. From now on, you two can’t be here alone. And if you are in your room the door needs to stay open,” Tom said, pointing fingers at Rosie and Henry.

“I believe we have more important business to get to. Now come on,” you said, pulling Tom away.

“Y/N, you know I was never going to actually hurt the boy right?”

“Yes, Tommy. Now please resume the family meeting.”

“Parker. Do you have something to tell us?” Tom asked, knowing his son will lie.

“I’ve been sneaking out at night and I’m sorry,” Parker started, you could hear the disappointment behind his voice.

“Why? I know it’s not because of a girl. I want to know everything,” Tom explained, fucking tired of all the lies.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Parker began by explaining how he felt by the loss of Charlotte and how he turned to Wilson. In Parker’s mind he was doing the right thing. Serving justice to those who wronged others. But in reality he was the one committing the wrongdoings.

Parker came clean that he was the one killing all of Tom’s men and that he killed Jazz. That he went Wilson before coming to Tom. Becoming Wilson’s secret hitman was never supposed to go this far. He only intended for it to be a big fuck you to Tom. Not destroy his livelihood and his family in the process.

Including all the details of Wilson’s secret agenda of taking you and Tom out. But Parker left out the fact that Wilson was no longer a threat. Having taken care of him the day before.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve never been this naive and stupid. I’m the one you’ve been searching for. I’m the rat,” Parker exclaimed. “Dad, say something,” he pleaded.

“Get out,” Tom said with an unchanging expression.

“What?”

“I said get the fuck out!”

“Tom,” you tried to reason.

“You are no longer my son. Betraying me, betraying your family. Get out.” Tom screamed.

A/n: I’m sorry. I like the content in this chapter but not the writing.

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