#every time we get together it takes us three hours to cook dinner at a MINIMUM it rules

[dilleater]

saw my gf last night and we made pearl barley risotto style with shell beans, sausage, dandelion greens + arugula and a salad also with dandelion greens, arugula, shiso leaves, kohlrabi, + pod beans with a blueberry vinagrette

[f1amour]

「 ✦ F1 GRID BLURBS — NIGHTMARES

drivers included | oscar piastri, lando norris, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, max verstappen, lewis hamilton

description | based off this request

content warnings + authors note | mentions of a car crash, pregnancy, and anxiety, comfort. sorry for any spelling mistakes <3

navigation. | requests — open | main masterlist.

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OSCAR PIASTRI ⁸¹

★ you’d been with oscar for three years and throughout your relationship it was common to spend long weeks away from each other. oscar had a demanding career and you were still studying at your university still one year to go. you had been able to attend your classes online for the first two years of your relationship but as you reached towards the end of your studies you had to be present on campus. it’s summer break which means you get oscar all to yourself for a few weeks. you spend that time in australia for a week then you head back home to monaco. it had been a long day at the beach and oscar had to attend a virtual meeting with his team, “i’ll join you later, honey. it might run a little late though because of their time difference but i’ll cuddle you after. i love you,” oscar gives you a quick kiss before he heads out to the living room so you can go to bed.

★ 45 minutes pass you keep tossing and turning, you grab the bottle of melatonin gummies in your nightstand taking two. an hour later oscar is getting into bed with you exhausted from the meeting. you start moving against his arms that were wrapped around you, he assumes you are just trying to get comfortable but then you start breathing and panting heavily. you start thrashing around and oscar shakes you awake, “baby, hey hey yn wake up it’s okay,” his soothing voice fills your ears and you sit up with wide eyes, “i…god i’m so sorry, osc,” your voice shakes as he kisses your head.

★ “you don’t have to apologize but i’m a little worried, you never get nightmares? what’s changed?” he asks, you lie your head on his chest and you debate on telling him why exactly these nightmares have been reoccurring, “i…i started taking melatonin. it helps me sleep but it also gives me nightmares sometimes but it’s fine! i wake up but then i drift off to sleep sooner or later. i’m okay.” you give him a smile that does not convince him that you are okay. melatonin? trouble sleeping? since when? “we’ve been together three years, yn. since when do you need something to help you sleep?” oscar questions, his oblivious question just makes you feel more embarrassed to confess why you have to take something to sleep. “i can’t sleep without you. it’s been hard lately not being in your arms every night, i’m sorry.” your eyes well up with tears and he he pulled you into a hug.

★ “oh baby, you should not apologize for that. i’m so sorry you’ve been feeling that way. i know we got so used to each other and having to change our routine is difficult. we can make this work though, okay? i don’t want you taking these anymore,” he points to the bottle you had on the nightstand, “we’ll work on facetiming more when have time and when you get a weekend off i’ll fly you out to me. even if it’s a few days i know it’ll help soothe us both.” his encouraging words and effort to fix how you’ve been feeling is more than enough to have you firdtinf back to sleep. “thank you, oscar. i love you,” you whisper quietly as your eyes close and soon you’re asleep on oscar’s chest while he pulls you in closer, “i love you more, honey.” he whispers back before drifting off to sleep with you.

LANDO NORRIS ⁴

★ lando was the extrovert in the relationship while you were the introvert; you both liked it that way and loved each other for it. lando loved yapping to you while you cooked dinner or watching a tv show. he also loved physical touch so any chance he got his hands would be on your whether around your waist, holding your hand, kissing you as many times as he can, sitting you on his lap, he loved being around you. you got so used to him and his affections especially traveling with him every race week that your favorite routine was going to bed together. you’d gotten him into your skincare routine so more every night you’d both unwind with small talk while washing your faces and applying moisturizer. you’d then go to bed and fall asleep to lando’s yapping about whatever gossip he heard around the paddock.

★ recently though he’s been going out more after a race whether it’s to celebrate his win or oscar’s or carlos’. you loved celebrating his accomplishments but the constant need to be at a nightclub almost every week was exhausting for you. you struggled to fall asleep the nights he was out partying late and you’d wake up from a nightmare a lot every time but you refused to tell lando. you didn’t want to seem like a clingy girlfriend so you just kept it all to yourself.

★“i got here safe and sound, mate. locked the door and now going to bed with m’lady. yeah yeah fuck off,” lando hangs up from his call with carlos who wanted to make sure he got to the hotel room safely. he had gone out to celebrate carlos’ win in mexico and him getting p2 and he was a bit bummed you couldn’t join them after dinner with the sainz family but you were simply exhausted. “baby?” lando walks into the room seeing you in deep sleep clinging to his pillow and he smiles at the sight in front of him. he was hoping to do his skincare routine with you which hadn’t been done in a few weeks but you were done for the night.

★ he changed into some pajamas and did his skincare before walking back into the room to join you in bed only to find you moving around with an uncomfortable look on your face as your whisper “stop, no, please…stop,” your voice gets louder until you are shaken awake and meet lando’s worried eyes. “baby, it’s a nightmare you’re okay i’m here,” he pulls you into his lap holding you close as you catch your breath. “but you’re barley here nowadays.” you tell him almost low enough thinking he won’t hear you but his expression shows opposite.

★ “what…what do you mean? we’re together all the time?” you sigh leaning against his shoulder, “yeah when we go to free practice, quali or the race but you aren’t here when i need you most. i go to sleep alone nowadays because my boyfriend wants to go out clubbing every weekend,” and there it was. lando had been hearing this from oscar telling him you talked to lily about feeling distant from him, he never thought it was true until now. “i get you want to celebrate your victories and your friends but i’m alone here, lan. i gave up a routine i had at home to be with you and i won’t ever regret that but the small routine we started to have that gave me some peace you’re abandoned. now i go to sleep alone and sometimes even wake up alone. i do our skincare routine all by myself. i’m so scared i’m losing you that i’ve had nightmares nonstop.” the words come out before you can think but you’re glad you have ben able to finally admit what you’ve been feeling for awhile now.

★ lando processes the information you just shared with him and he feels a pit in his stomach, he feels guilty and terrible that you’ve had these thoughts for awhile now. “i miss hearing your voice. i miss hearing you talk about whatever nonsense you heard from the paddock while we do our skincare or when i cook us food. i really miss you but i don’t know if you miss me.” you avoid his eyes when you tell him the last sentence afraid he might just walk away but instead he lifts your chin up so you meet his eyes. “i am so sorry you’ve been feeling that way baby. i always miss you. i love you. i’ve been an idiot to not notice what you’ve going through. getting nightmares because of me? i never want you to experience that again. i guess the excitement of having a chance at the constructors and possibly drivers championship clouded any other thought. i celebrate every week as we get close to the end but i left behind my number one support in that process. i’m gonna do better, if you let me?”

★ his reassurance that he’ll do better and he knows where he went wrong makes you smile becuase that’s all you’ve ever wanted, “i’ll join you on some nights you wanna celebrate, but promise when it’s too much we’ll stay home?” you lean your forehead against his and his smile lights up at your question, “you know it, baby. besides we can celebrate in our hotel rooms all the time we do our skincare and make some sweet sweet love in be—.”

“lando!”

CHARLES LECLERC ¹⁶

★ being engaged to a formula one driver was quite demanding as everyone wanted the inside scoop in your life; especially the paparazzi. you didn’t mind charles’ fans you loved them and the love they had for your relationship with their favorite driver but it was the media the invasive people who wanted a front page. they got so obsessive that one night they followed you and charles home after having dinner with his family at a local restaurant.

★ three cars speeding and trying catch up to you just to capture any images they could and while charles was experienced enough to drive at an incredibly fast rate he didn’t see the truck backing out of a driveway and you both ended up in the hospital. you both suffered a few injuries but it’s the crash that left you traumatized more than ever. you couldn’t go into a car for a few weeks without panicking but it slowly went down. however, your thoughts of the crash never left when charles had a race. you woke up in a panic almost every night either of the car accident or even worse, charles being in an accident while racing.

★ you didn’t tell charles about the nightmares becuase he already had enough on his plate you didn’t want to add some silly scary dreams you had to it. that was until he was on the racing simulator while you slept in the next room, leo walked out do the room barking at charles. “mon dieu leo, je vais me coucher dans un moment, je vais coucher avec ta mère (my god leo i will go to bed in a bit go lay with your mom)” charles shoos leo way but the pup prances to his owner and bites his ankle causing charles to yell, “leo no!” but the pup ignores him and continues biting and yanking at his ankle.

★ leo barks louder and charles senses the urgency of he stands and lets the dog guide him towards the bedroom and when they entereo runs up to the bed and charles immediately notices your hyperventilating and crying with your eyes closed. “chérie. wake up come on it’s okay breathe, it’s okay.” he repeated as you wake up immediately and cling to charles. you take deep breathes before looking at charles who was busy wiping your tears away, “amour, what happened?”

★ you sigh and tell him the reason for the nightmares and there’s a small silence before he breaks it, “i get them too sometimes. but mostly on the track i…i just think of what would’ve happened that day if i lost you,” he tells you while you let leo who was seated on your lap. “maybe…maybe we should go to therapy? talk to someone about it so we can help each other?” you ask him and with a smile he kisses you softly, “that sounds like a good idea. i think this little deserve a treat before bed for taking care of his mom.”

CARLOS SAINZ ⁵⁵

★ you loved exploring new places with carlos when you both were free from your usual busy schedules. however, you absolutely HATED the ocean you didn’t mind staring at it from afar of course it was a beautiful view but being in the middle of the ocean? yeah, not your favorite thing ever. it didn’t help that you were also seasick but carlos spent so much time planning this trip out with you and his family you couldn’t say no.

★ “i’m surprised yn went to bed so early. she loves being in the middle of this,” carlos’ mom tells him as they sit around the dining table where carlos and his father started bantering which you enjoyed watching especially because it was like twins arguing with each other. carlos and his father were identical only difference one was younger and the other was older. carlos sighs and stands up, “i’m just gonna make sure she’s okay. i’ll be back in a few minutes,” he says but his dad laughs, “buenas noches, hijo.” knowing his son enough he says goodnight, one thing about carlos he was attached to your hip every moment of the day. he was going to join you in bed even if he wasn’t sleepy, all to be close to you.

★ expecting you find you in full sleep he was let with an uncomfortable look on your face and heavy breathing, he can sense your panic so he gently wakes you up from whatever you were dreaming of. “amor…despiertate, está bien, estás bien.(love…wake up, it’s okay. you’re okay.)” his gentle voice fills your eyes and you clutch onto his arm with a panic look on your face but reality sets in that you were indeed safe in bed and not deep in the ocean floating below you. “i’m sorry, carlos,” you explain to him your fear of the ocean and that is why you were having a nightmare, also exhaling the sea sickness which he immediately kisses your head apologizing for not seeing how sick you’d been feeling. “we’ll get back to land tomorrow morning—,” your protest telling carlos you don’t wanna ruin the trip but he just reassures you with a smile and tucks you back in bed with him. “you can’t ruin anything as long as i’m with you, i am happy.”

MAX VERSTAPPEN ¹

★ sleeping peacefully beside each other with only the small sound of wind outside you begin stirring in max’s arms as images from the horror movie you had watched earlier with max invaded your sleep. “no…max, help….please no!” your voice grows louder and at your last no you sit up catching your breath and looking around your surroundings. “shcatje? what’s wrong?” max sits up rubbing your shoulder softly helping you calm down.

★ silence fills the room but then your glare at him slapping his shoulder, “it’s your fault! this stupid nightmare was of your stupid movie you suggested we watch!” you yell at him, max can’t help but laugh at your outburst regarding what your nightmare had been about. “so you’re saying this may fault? you wanted to watch the movie too!” he argues back, after an exhausting triple header you were happy to spend some time alone. only for max to suggest watching a new horror movies that had just come out and you…you wanted to spend alone time with him. but what did he want? watch a scary movie where he just yapped the whole time about how unrealistic some scenes were.

★ “i didn’t want to watch the movie i thought you were just going to play it and make out with me! i didn’t think we were actually going to watch the movie and listen to you talk to whole entire time. i hate scary movies and you didn’t remember that…that’s not nice,” you pout at your boyfriend for forgetting one of your simplest dislikes you had. “i did forget that…i’m sorry, i just wanted to lay with you and watch something that was the first thing i saw on the tv. i won’t forget ever again, okay? no more nightmares.” max kisses your head and pulls you onto his lap which you smile at feeling closer to him, “we can make out now?” he adds, his lips trialing down your neck and you quickly agree pulling him into a very well needed kiss.

LEWIS HAMILTON ⁴⁴

★ “baby? i’m home! they had me doing so much today it’s supposed to be my day off where i spend time with my wife as we unpack in our new home but no they need me to…yn? love?” lewis walked into the new home you had bought together after a few months of being married you both wanted to move into a bigger home rather in the apartment you’d been in for year now. he expects to find you in the living room cuddling with roscoe but instead finds an empty kitchen and living room. “babe? i thought we were going for dinner—yn?” lewis stops midway when he walks into the bedroom and sees you cuddling roscoe with tears in your eyes.

★ “hey, what’s wrong? why are you crying?” lewis quickly joins you on the bed and pulls you into his arms and you just sob on him for the next few minutes, his soft rubs on your back and soothing words help calm you down after a bit. “i…it’s such a big house, you know? i love it and i���m excited to share this step with you. i just get scared being in a big house alone and just with roscoe because you’ll be gone so i’ll be her with the baby on my—.” lewis’ heart stops at the mention of a baby, “baby? are you pregnant?” expecting some response fork you he receives another crying session form you in his arms mumbling words along the line of “going to be here in a big house with a baby what if someone breaks in?” “i’m gonna have swollen feet!” “whose going to sing to the baby while you’re away?” “what if—.”

★ “honey…let’s take a deep breath okay? now, i can’t promise there won’t be lonely days but you can come along with me until you are no longer able to travel alright? that has never been a problem. i’m going to make sure to be with you every step of the way. we will get through this, alright? together.” he reassures you, trying his best to stop you from overthinking. “i just found out this morning i was waiting to tell you once you got home but i was so tired and overthinking…that never ends well for me. i just got scared this is all so new the house and now the baby? we’re gonna be okay, right?” his smile warms your heart (and nerves), “we are gonna be perfect, honey. me, you, roscoe, and the baby.”

[kxnkprxncess]

Dreaming of my perfect day-

I wake up early and put on the outfit my husband picked out the night before. (It’s always some variation of his favorite look- a short lacy dress that barely covers my ass or my tits and a matching collar.) while my husband sleeps in, I begin making our breakfast. He keeps me on a strict diet so while I make up his eggs and bacon, I make myself one of my approved breakfasts of a green smoothie.

Once done, I get to wake my husband up like I do every morning- sucking off his morning wood. I always start lightly so I can have more time with his cock in my mouth. If I take too long, he’ll punish me by thrusting himself down my throat. But this morning I must have been doing a good job because he rewards me by pulling my dress down and fucking my huge tits he paid for. He’s told me that for his next birthday he’s going to get himself even bigger tits to fuck.

When he’s finished with me, he begins to get ready and I begin my chores. Making the bed, laying out his suit, and dusting. I serve him breakfast and tells me what I need to accomplish for the day.

He has an assistant for any of the actually hard stuff he needed to do through the day, tasking me with the chores he does every day like going to the gym, picking up the new clothes he ordered for me from the lingerie shop on the mall, and cooking, all while keeping my phone handy so he can keep track of me during the day. Every few hours he needs me to stop what I’m doing and send him photos or videos of whatever he needs at the moment.

I begin at the gym, my personal trainer really working my thighs and glutes. My husband has told him to really work my ass, he needs it much bigger and as an incentive, my husband lets my trainer use it after each session. He’s worked me so hard over the last three hours I don’t even feel him as he fucks into my hole, my legs shaking the whole time.

Next, at the shop, I try on my new outfits. He gets them custom tailored to fit the extreme proportions he’s crafted for me. It’s getting cooler outside so my husband wants to make sure I stay warm. The newest outfit is a similar small dress but now with a cashmere sweater that was really just sleeves that tie under my tits. My husband wants an update and the tailor is nice enough to take a picture showing it off while his assistant held my tits up from behind, showing how much bigger they’ll be after the surgery. My husband replies immediately that he wants to see more and the assistant happily obliges. She takes my dress down and begins playing with my tits, bringing her mouth down to suck on my nipples. The tailor videos as we make out and rub our huge breasts together.

For dinner, I was told to make extra, my husband has his friends coming over after golf. I serve them and eat my salad in the kitchen until I’m called out for dessert. My husband strips me down and has me lay down on the table so his buddies can grope and eventually fuck me while they discuss things I can’t understand.

To go to sleep, my husband feeds me a handful of pills and fucks me until I pass out.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Championship love

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Max one-shot inspired by him winning the championship for the fourth time !!

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

You've been by Max's side for as long as you can remember. Teenagers with wild dreams and even wilder hearts, you both grew up together—through the awkward phases, the endless karting weekends, and the late-night phone calls where he shared his hopes of making it big in Formula 1. And he did. You’ve celebrated every step of his journey, but nothing compares to how you’ve marked each of his world championships together.

2011: The first time Max won the championship, it felt surreal. You were in Abu Dhabi, tears streaming down your face as he crossed the finish line and screamed over the radio. That night, back in the hotel room, it was just the two of you. Max was exhausted but glowing with pride, the trophy on the bedside table. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you like it was the first time, whispering, “This is just the beginning.”

2022: His second championship was no less thrilling. Max insisted on celebrating at home in Monaco, just the two of you again. He cooked you dinner—well, tried to. Half-burnt pasta and wine turned into laughter and slow dancing in the kitchen. He held you close, murmuring, “I couldn’t have done this without you.” You knew he meant it.

2023: The third title was chaotic—Sprint race in Qatar. But later that night, back at the motorhome, Max pulled you aside. His team was celebrating loudly in the background, but his focus was entirely on you. “Three-time world champion,” he said, smirking. “But being yours is still my favorite title.”

And now, here you are in Las Vegas. Max’s fourth championship.

The moment he crosses the line, you can barely hear the roar of the crowd over your own cheering. Your chest swells with pride as the fireworks explode over the track. It feels like a culmination of everything you’ve built together—his hard work, your unwavering support, and the love that’s only grown stronger with time.

Later that night, the team throws a party in one of the grand casinos. The celebration is lavish, the energy electric, but Max never lets go of your hand. Every so often, he leans down to kiss your temple or whispers something only for you to hear. He’s glowing, but there’s something else in his eyes—a secret, maybe, or anticipation.

Hours later, he whisks you away from the crowd, leading you to the rooftop of your hotel. The view is breathtaking—Las Vegas glittering like a sea of stars, a warm breeze wrapping around you both. You laugh, spinning to face him. “What are we doing up here?”

Max looks at you, his blue eyes soft and steady. He takes your hands in his, thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “I wanted to end this night with just us,” he says. “Like we always do.”

Your heart swells. “You’re getting sentimental, Verstappen.”

He chuckles but doesn’t look away. “I have a good reason.”

Before you can ask what he means, Max drops to one knee.

Time stops.

Your breath catches as he pulls a small velvet box from his pocket. “You’ve been with me through everything—every win, every loss, every moment in between. I can’t imagine doing this without you. I don’t want to do this without you.” He opens the box, revealing a stunning ring that glitters even brighter than the city lights. “Will you marry me?”

Tears blur your vision as you nod frantically, a smile breaking across your face. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “Of course, yes.”

Max stands, slipping the ring onto your finger before pulling you into his arms. The kiss you share feels like every dream you’ve ever had coming true.

“You just made this the best championship celebration ever,” you say against his lips.

He grins, pressing his forehead to yours. “I think this one’s my favorite too.”

Under the Vegas sky, with the world at your feet, you know this moment is just the beginning of a lifetime of celebrations—together.

[cameronspecial]

we all kmow drew loves to read and staying in, let’s make Dad!Drew staying in for the weekend and read to his 2 yo daughter and everything (hanging out, taking cute pics, doing her hair, play house) while reader going out with her friends and she felt a little guilty but he assured her that he loves spending time with their baby, so she should stop worrying.

Me And My Lady

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Suggestion of Sex At The End

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7K

Masterlist

“You be Ken, Daddy, and I be Chelsea,” Elizabeth orders, handing her father the doll. Most kids are obsessed with the titular character of Barbibe; however, Drew’s daughter loves her Chelsea doll with a passion. He takes it without hesitation, “'Cause I'm just Ken, anywhere else I'd be a ten. Is it my destiny to live and die a life of blonde fragility?” The singing goes over his daughter’s head and she begins the dialogue of the game. He isn’t too sure what exactly is going on; only catching every other word. He does hear cheating and divorce though, so he makes a mental note to ask Y/N if she has been watching Real Housewives with their daughter again. 

Around half an hour later, the young girl complains about being hungry, so the two of them get to cook dinner. He watches as the small hand grips the spatula and waves it back and forward, spreading tomato sauce over the lasagna slices. She accidentally yanks the utensil upward, which causes a splash of red to land on her nose. Drew laughs and Elizabeth goes crossed eyes to try to see what he is laughing at. This makes him laugh even harder and she joins in on the cheery mood. He takes the phone out, letting her put some sauce on his nose and angling the camera at both of them. They make a funny face and he takes multiple pictures. After their small photo shoot, the two of them finish making the lasagna and eat up their reward for their effort. He checks the time to see that it is the little one’s bedtime soon. “It’s bath time,” he announces. Excitement crosses her face because she loves being in the water. He helps her out of the chair and chuckles when she rushes to the bathroom. “Come on, Daddy,” she beckons from the other room. He jogs after her to find her sorting through her toys already, trying to figure out which one she wants to play with. The one thing she hates about bathtime is the three toys limit. 

He steps over the toys and plugs the drain so the tub will fill when he turns the tap on. As the water begins to occupy the hollow porcelain, Drew turns to his daughter and opens the cabinet beside the bath. “Do you want bubbles and what bath bomb do you want?” he questions. She looks up from her toys and examines the choices, “Can I use one of Mommy’s?” The cabinet is filled with bubbles for both Y/N and Elizabeth, but the bath bombs are divided between the two of them. Elizabeth’s are colourful and shaped in different forms, such as cats, unicorns, or dogs, while Y/N’s are more focused on the scents so they are less colourful and just round. Knowing his wife wouldn’t mind sharing, he nods. “Bubbles, please, and that one,” she answers, pointing to the light pink bath bomb that smells of roses. Drew grabs both of the chosen items, “Those are fine choices, My Lady.” Elizabeth giggles at the funny accent he uses and accepts the round object he hands her, dropping it into the tub when he instructs her to. 

Once the bubbles are in and the water is at an appropriate height, he helps her undress and sets her into the tub. He hands her the duck, the mermaid, and the boat she chose to play with, accepting the mermaid she gave him. “And we can swim all night together,” she recounts. The duck slaps against the water under the grip of the daughter. The force produces a large splash that hits her father in the face. His face scrunches as the water makes contact and drips to his neck. “Hahaha,” she yells. Drew fakes an angry look, “Grrr. You think that’s funny, Little Lady?” He dips his hand in the water and flicks some at his daughter. Her giggles intensify and she tries to get away from the attack. The warmth soon leaves her, creating a shiver in her. Upon seeing this, the father grabs the ducky hood towel from the hook and takes her out of the tub. He wraps it around her and runs his hands up and down her arms to create some heat. The floor is soaked because of their playing, so he takes a second to dry it with the floor towel. 

With the floor clean, he carries her to her room and they get her changed into her pyjamas. He runs the towel over her hair to get out as much moisture as he can. He takes the brush she hands him and runs it through her hair to get rid of the knots created in the bath. “Do we want one braid or two?” he confirms. She hmms for a little, “Two Fwench braids, please.” He divides her hair into two and then separates one of the sections into three. He begins weaving the strands together like his wife taught him and sings with his daughter whilst she waits for him to finish. 

“There you go, My Lady. Why don’t you go choose a bedtime story?” he encourages, watching her run to her bookcase. She spends about a minute looking at her options before choosing a book he knows she is going to pick because it has been her choice for a few nights now. She patters back to him and he helps her onto her big girl bed. Her head rests against his shoulder. He pretends he doesn’t see her thumb in her mouth even though Y/N would kill him for not stopping it. He thumbs through the book to find where they stopped last night and clears his throat to start reading. “To be, or not to be, that is the question.” The English major side of him loves that his daughter likes to read Shakespeare. He is sure she doesn’t understand anything he reads, yet he knows she enjoys it because she is always so attentive and she’ll ask what certain words will mean. Drew looks past the inappropriate subject matter of Hamlet for the two-year-old because it feels like a bonding experience for him. It is one of the reasons why he isn’t angry at Y/N for watching Real Housewives with Elizabeth. 

Ten minutes later, he fills her head relax as it digs into his muscles. He closes the book and kisses her forehead. His hand raises the blanket to her chin, turning on the night light. “I love you, My Lady,” he whispers. 

———

Drew is reading through Othello because he thinks it is what he and Elizabeth should read after Hamlet. She’ll like the witches’ scene. He hears the front door open and close. He shuts the book, placing it on the side table as his wife walks through the bedroom door. “Hey, did she go down to sleep okay?” she mumbles. Her back is facing him whilst she takes off her jewellery and places them on her vanity. His head bobs and he gets behind her. He hands her a makeup wipe, resting his chin on her shoulder. He observes her nighttime routine through the mirror. His lips press against her skin, “Yep, everything went by smoothly. We are almost done with Act Three for Hamlet. I’m thinking about reading Othello with her next. How was the club?” She hesitates about answering. Y/N honestly had an amazing time tonight. It felt so great not having to worry about another human being for an evening. She loves Elizabeth, except being a mom can create a lot of pressure. Even though the night was a success, guilt overcomes her when she meets her husband’s eyes in the mirror. Drew hasn’t gone out at night with friends since he got back from work and she has been out three times. “It was fine,” she plays off, wiping her makeup off with the wipes he provided for her.

His brow arches at her tone, “Really, only fine? I saw Layton’s story. You looked like you were having a blast.” Her eyes fall to the vanity. “It must have been a trick of the light,” she shrugs. She goes for another wipe, except veiny hands stop her. He takes her hand in his and spins her so they face each other. Warm hands cup her cheek. “What’s wrong, My Queen? Why so glum?” he worries, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. 

Her breath tickles his skin as she exhales, “Do you hate that I make you stay at home with Elizabeth when I go out?” His head shakes like an earthquake and he brings her in for a hug. He can feel the guilt oozing out of her. “No, of course not. I love Elizabeth. Why would I hate it?”

“I’m not saying that you hate her. I just wonder if you resent me for going out with the girls, which means you have sole parent duties for a night. You haven’t had a night out since she was born. I mean you go out, but never by yourself so that I have sole parent duties.” 

“You have sole duties when I work.”

“That’s different though. Just because you love your job doesn’t mean it is a personal outing for pleasure.”

“True.” 

She looks back at him with a pout, his last words intensifying her emotions. “Please don’t feel bad about this. I may not go out anymore, but I never used to go out that much before anyways, right?” he reminds her. She thinks about it, realizing that it is true. Whenever he went out, it was always with her by his side. She meets his gaze, “You are saying that to make me feel better.” His head moves from side to side. “No. I love having nights with me and My Lady. I mean they are perfect when it is me, My Lady, and My Queen, but if I can give you a much-needed break, then I am more than happy to help you with that. If anything, Elizabeth is my excuse to stay in.” A grin starts to grow on his face when he sees the tips of her lips flip upwards. “Well, I’m glad I made you the perfect excuse,” she jokes. His laugh joins her lightened mood, “You made me the best excuse. Maybe we should start working on another one. You know, to solidify our excuse.” His eyebrows waggle and she pulls him into a kiss with a smirk. Their giggles mix in the air as he locks their bedroom door and she flops onto their bed. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

[arazialotis]

Get Him to the Con - Part 10

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 6520

Story Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Chapter Summary: Y/n visits Vancouver to see Jensen and, more importantly, to try to win Jared over.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Warnings: Always language. Grumpy Jared. After dinner, well, it gets NSFW 🌶️🌶️, 18+ Only

Although this is an RPF, these are fabricated characters and should not reflect back IRL. I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as a coping skill. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

----

The black Escalade wove through the Vancouver traffic, the sun beating down, melting the piles of slushy remnants from the first snow. What should have been an eagerly anticipated moment for your arrival was tense. Behind the wheel, Jensen was trying to be the bridge between you and his best friend.

“Lighten up, man. Y/n’s really excited to be out here again and wants nothing more than to hang out and cook us a nice meal.” Jensen pleaded your case.

He, in fact, suggested pizza on the risk of jetlag, but you had insisted, falling back onto the age-old idiom ‘the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.’ You already had one of their hearts, and you were convinced you could make Jared warm up to you, too, if only he saw you as who you were and not as a clingy fangirl. Yet you felt that rift growing every time you saw him. And the last thing you wanted was for Jensen to be caught in the middle.

“Would you try to like her? For me? Please.” Jensen nearly begged when Jared didn’t respond.

At least he was in the car, though Jensen didn’t give him a choice, with this outing as a pretense of drinks after work.

Jensen tried one more time, fed up with Jared’s stubbornness. “At least act nice.”

That got his attention. “Act nice? I’ll play nice if she does.” The accusation hanging heaving.

Jensen furrowed his brow. “Y/n doesn’t have a mean bone in her body.” Okay, you had a bit of a temper, were known to hold a grudge, and had a smart mouth, but Jared didn’t need to know that.

Jared scoffed. “Last time she came out, she literally laughed and criticized me for overacting.”

Jensen’s confusion grew, trying to remember the last time you came out. Then, the realization hit him as the three of you watched the latest episode together in another futile attempt for Jensen to foster peace.

Despite the animosity, Jensen couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, she laughed at a scene and apologized immediately, saying it was hard to take the show seriously now that she knows us. And I said that wasn’t it; it’s probably because you took your acting lessons from Bruce Campbell." His tongue peeked out between his teeth as he attempted and failed to control another giggle, still quite proud of the slight.

“It was a serious scene. I was acting my heart out.” Jared stressed. “You had just gotten back from hell.”

Jensen lost the smile. “In her defense, it does lose its impactfulness after the 17th time.”

“Whatever, man.” Jared pouted, looking out the window.

Jensen rolled his eyes and prayed to any god that would listen. “Would it make you feel better if we watch Devour together after dinner? Then we’ll just laugh at me.”

Jared said nothing, not taking the bait. The clicking of the blinker filled the silence as Jensen waited to turn toward the arrival gates. Jared ran his fingers through his hair as Jensen pursed his lips together, trying to think of something, anything. The light turned green.

“I don’t even know why I am here. Y/n has, like, what, two full days out here? You should be spending it together without having to worry about me third-wheeling. I’m sure there are other things that you would prefer to occupy time you don’t get over Zoom.” Jared rambled out loud.

Jensen’s eyes tightly blinked shut momentarily as he began seeking out an open spot at the curb. Jared was right, of course, only on account of his last thought, but he wouldn’t be at peace until he had the blessing of his best friend. Jensen inhaled through his nose, held his breath, and released through his mouth.

“It is important to me that you and Y/n find some common ground. If you gave her even the slightest chance, I’m positive you would start to like her.” He said calmly as he put the car into park.

“Why does it matter so much to you if I like her?” Jared pushed. To him, you were still only a rebound after Elena.

And then it hit him. Maybe Jared’s denial of his true fear of being replaced had come true.

“Because she’s my best friend and I love her!” He declared and then laughed through the shock.

It was the first time he had admitted it out loud. The silence was palpable as both men processed the weight of the words. Jensen wasn’t one to open up lightly. He felt deeply, but he was always careful with those emotions, cautious even. It had taken nearly two years before he said the same to Elena. Another before they started looking at rings. Maybe because it was one of the first serious relationships he had since the start of his career. The depth and commitment he had felt with her made the falling out that much more disastrous. He had fortified his walls to be higher and more impenetrable. Then you came out of nowhere and shattered everything he thought he knew about himself. He felt like a caged bird learning for the first time how to spread its wings, to feel the breeze on its face, and the warmth of the sun. With you, he felt free.

Jared’s eyes darted back and forth as if reading his thoughts, finding the right response. Jensen squeezed the steering wheel and nodded his head. “I love her.” He said again, the realization hitting him, fully knowing it was true. But then the terror of the statement hit him. The car door shuttered open, and the catapult of a backpack rolling over the seatbench crashing at the other end pulled Jared from his thoughts as you entered the car.

“Hiya!” You squeaked.

You pulled the door close with a thud and clicked on your seatbelt. You cleared your throat, looking up, momentarily afraid you jumped in the wrong car. But it was Jensen and Jared, alright. Jensen stared directly ahead, his face as white as if seeing a ghost. Jared scrutinized his friend. You sank back in your seat. You had thrown yourself directly into something.

Jared turned in his seat, blinking rapidly and addressing you in the most amiable tone he had ever taken with you. “Hi Y/n. Um, would you mind giving us a minute?”

Oh, you had definitely walked into something. It took you a minute to process this, but then you began fumbling with the seatbelt, “Yeah. Yeah. Of course.” And vacated the Escalade as fast as possible.

Jared’s brow furrowed, and he leaned closer to a whisper as you aimlessly knocked your fists together outside on the sidewalk. “You love her?”

He chuckled again and ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I really do.”

Jared knew he should be happy for Jensen, knew they should be celebrating this, offering congratulations, but all he felt was dread.

“Have you told her?” Jared asked.

“Nah, you’re the first to know.” Jensen clapped Jared on the shoulder. “I want the moment to be right, you know. I want to be able to remember it for a long time.”

Jared thought about faking it, but he had to be real with Jensen. “You don’t know her.”

That set him off. “Why are you so set against her? Why can’t you be happy for me? I do know her. I’ve known her for seven months, been dating her for 4 of those, and talk to her almost daily.” His voice went up an octave higher. “I don’t know why I have to keep justifying my choices to you, man? When will it ever be good enough for you?”

Jared didn’t take the bait. “But you don’t know her. How can you truly? You haven’t met her friends or her family, and it sounds like her mom is a real piece of work. Are you ready to deal with that?”

Outside the car, airport security approached you. Both boys could tell from your over-exaggerated gestures that you were attempting to buy them more time.

Jared continued. “And no offense, but she isn’t spotlight material.”

“Fuck you.” Jensen's blood boiled over. He was about to leave the car to find another way to get back into the city. At that moment, he never wanted to see Jared again.

“Come on. Give me a break. You know I didn’t mean it like that.” Though he kind of did. “All I’m saying is that if you truly are that committed to her, that this isn’t some fling, you should think about preparing her for the kind of attention it will warrant. The good, the bad, and the ugly. That kind of stress and attention can ruin a person.”

Jensen didn’t respond but wrung his hands on the steering wheel. There was a knock on the window.

“Please, know I’m just trying to look out for you,” Jared whispered as he began rolling down the window.

“Nobody asked you to.” Jensen snipped back before the security guard started to chew them out.

As the boys were on the receiving end of a very stern lecture, you slipped as quietly as possible into the back seat to avoid further angering or endangering yourself with security. Yes, spending a night in jail was on your bucket list, but this is not what you had in mind.

“Sorry, officer,” Jensen ended a profuse apology before hightailing it out of there.

You weren’t sure exactly what you missed, but the air hung thick with tension. Nobody spoke. There was only the hum of tires on the road. It hit you that Jensen never even acknowledged you. You fiddled with a loose stitch on the seat in front of you.

After five minutes and starting to get out of airport traffic, you couldn’t handle it anymore. “So…” You drew the word out, unsure how to break into a conversation.

Jensen blinked, realizing you had no reason to be as upset as him and that it was unfair to suffer from their drama, especially when you were not privy to it.

He cleared his throat. “I got the groceries you requested delivered.” However, he didn’t know how the three of you would sit through a dinner together.

“Oh, good! I’m starving. Airport food never really hits the spot, but the Cajun snack mix does kinda slap.” You rambled, trying for anything to get them talking.

They both hmmed in response. You were about to ask them about their favorite airport snack, but thank the gods, it was Jared who surprisingly saved you.

“What’s for dinner then?” He was trying. He had fucked up. He knew it. This was how he could try to make amends with Jensen.

You beamed, having perfectly planned it out, trying to finally win Jared over to your side. “We’ll start with a strawberry, basil, and balsamic whipped burrata and roasted bone marrow. Then, a small lemon watercress-radicchio salad for a palate cleanser before moving on to a butter-basted ribeye accompanied by potatoes au gratin and crispy brussel sprouts with mustard seeds and pomegranate.”

Jared’s stomach rumbled. Goddammit, that sounded good.

“And, I was considering a dessert, but Jensen said I already had enough going on, and because baking isn’t my strong suit, I let him handle the rest.” You explained. “You did handle the rest, didn’t you?”

Jensen's anger melted a little. With a smirk, he said, “Yeah, a tub of vanilla ice cream.”

Your heart dropped. “Stop.” There was a glint of teasing in his eyes as he looked at you through the rearview mirror, but the rest of his face remained deadpan. You couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “Okay, I guess I could repropose what I had in mind for the burrata, and if you have sugar on hand and something salty and crunchy, we could do a quick brittle. Oooh, maybe the cajun snack mix. Or perhaps…”

“Y/n! I’m messing with you. I have an assortment ordered from Thomas Haas.” He winked at you in the mirror.

Thomas Haas meant little to you, but anything would be better than a tub of ice cream. Okay, a tub of ice cream had its time and place, but not when you were working so hard to impress Jared. Still, you eyed Jensen skeptically, unsure if it would measure up.

“Some of the best in Vancouver,” Jared assured. “I’m sure it will compliment your dinner perfectly. I can’t wait. It all sounds very delicious.”

“Hmm.” You looked between the two of them.

There were still too many questions unanswered. What were they talking about before you arrived? Could you trust either of them to select a quality dessert or would you have to resort to brittle anyways? Were you now on a no-fly list due to the tiff with the security guard? When could you get Jensen alone (this stern look painted on his face was doing things you couldn’t control)? But most importantly, why was Jared acting so nice?

“I’ve had bone marrow before, but only in restaurants,” Jared continued. “I didn’t realize it could be done at home.”

“Oh yeah, it’s actually super simple if you can find a good butcher.” You explained.

Jensen interjected. “Don’t let her fool you. She’s been binging The Bear, and now her only goal is to become an Iron Chef.”

You smirked, impressed he even knew what an Iron Chef was. Aside from eating food, anything kitchen-related was the furthest on his interest list. You were rubbing off on him.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “It’s the easiest cheat code appetizer if you want to impress someone. You toast some bread, toss the marrow in the oven for twenty minutes, and add a few accouterments to a serving board. And bam, done.”

Jared laughed, actually laughed. “I’m sure you are underselling yourself. From what Jensen has told me, you are an excellent cook. I can’t wait to see it all come together.”

Jensen glared at Jared out of the side of his eye, the anger resurfacing. He was laying it on thick. Too thick.

You squinted, eyes darting back and forth between them. This wasn’t going to plan. You were supposed to cook the food and then become BFFs with Jared. This was happening too quickly. But perhaps you should take it for what it was. Maybe you had stuck around long enough for him to finally accept you. Or Jensen had talked you up enough. Whatever the reason, you had to stop ruminating on it. All you had to do was get through dinner. Perhaps after, you could corner Jensen into an explanation.

It wasn’t long until you pulled into the parking garage adjoined to the condos. Jensen popped the trunk, surprised to find it empty.

“Where’s your luggage?” He asked, oblivious as his conversation with Jared required most of his mental capacity.

You held up your backpack as a response, and his brow furrowed with confusion.

“What’s wrong? Are you ill?” He pestered, placing the back of his hand against your forehead.

“Shut up.” You snipped and then explained. “I’m practicing becoming a lighter packer.” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Besides, I recall not needing much clothing last visit.”

Jensen raised his eyebrows, reminiscing, and then nuzzled his nose into your neck in anticipation of this weekend. Jared, having overheard, rolled his eyes and fought a gag. You laughed as Jensen pulled away, his eyelashes tickling your cheeks. And Jared plastered on his fake smile yet again.

“Let’s get upstairs,” He said. “I’m starving.”

-----

Dinner was coming along nicely. You were basting the last of the steaks in butter, and the boys were watching the end of a game in the living room. The thoroughly cleaned plates on the coffee table were the only lingering evidence that there had been appetizers. You snuck a bit here and there, but it was mostly to keep the two of them from sniffing around the kitchen.

With a final splash of liquid, the steak was done—perfect caramelization and crust. Now, the potatoes. You checked the timer—ten minutes, enough time for the steak to rest. And the Brussels? Shit. You scooped the last of them out of the oil in the nick of time. You generously salted them and would add the pomegranate molasses after plating. Satisfied with how it was all wrapping up, you whipped Jensen’s once pristinely white dish towel over your shoulder. There was a shuffling behind you as you began cleaning what you could.

“Need any help?” Jensen asked.

You were about to shoo him out when you heard the scrape of a knife. You snapped your head around to catch him red-handed. He stared at you like a deer in the headlights, the end of one steak pinched between his fingers and the knife hovering millimeters above. You scowled, and Jensen slowly set the knife down, held his hands in surrender, and backed up.

Your scowl melted into a smile. “A couple of minutes longer. If you’d like to help, you can set the table.”

He straightened. “Yes, chef.”

You playfully stuck out your tongue and whipped the dish towel in his direction, earning an exaggerated yelp.

Finally, after a few minutes passed, you brought the final plate to the table and scooched in. Jensen didn’t hesitate and dove in.

With a full mouth, he mumbled, “If this tastes as good as it…” Then it hit him, and his eyes rolled back in pure delight. “Oh god.”

Jared went in a little slower, cutting his steak and bringing it past his lips. He took several testing bites and paused, glaring at you. He was actually glaring at you. Dropping the act, he’d kept up all night, pissed at how good it tasted. He knew what tonight had been about. About you trying to butter him up, quite literally with butter braised steak. And god dammit. It was a good steak. And he was mad about it.

“Fuck.” Jared cursed aloud, snapping your and Jensen’s attention to him. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You smiled sheepishly, looking down at your plate. “I can’t say I’ve had that reaction before. Not quite as orgasmic as I was hoping for, maybe if I adjusted the…” Your face went pale, realizing the last part was out loud.

Jensen snorted, and Jared even cracked a smirk.

“So, um,” You attempted a recovery. “How was work this week?”

A few minutes of silence passed as Jensen gave Jared a chance to answer. When he didn't and caught him glaring again, Jensen kicked his shin under the table, prompting him further.

Jared grunted. “Well, hours weren't as shitty as usual.”

“Cause Collins hasn't been around.” Jensen teasingly interjected.

Jared chuckled. “Yeah, not as many retakes. Finally, it feels like we're making some progress this season.”

You nodded. The three of you looked back and forth, trying to gauge whether it was appropriate to continue the conversation or return to eating.

“What about you?” Jared coughed before going in for another bite.

“Same old.” You simply stated.

Silverware scraped against plates. A clock ticked in the living room. The sounds of the city rose from the streets. You dabbed the corner of your mouth with the black cloth napkin, then considered it. You’d be willing to bet good money this was the first time Jensen ever pulled them out.

Jensen tried again to spark the conversation again. “Should we talk Vegas?”

Your eyes lit up excitedly, ready to discuss a plan and details.

“So, about that,” Jared started. Jensen didn’t hide his scowl, but Jared's eyes widened, challenging him. “It’s not often we get that kind of time off work, and I’m going to meet Gen in Austin.”

Ah, so dinner wasn’t the wondrous miracle you hoped it would be. You cursed yourself for not trying a Wellington. Jensen reached under the table to graze your thigh, trying to communicate that this had nothing to do with you.

“Why doesn’t she join us?” Jensen shrewdly offered.

Jared’s lips formed a thin line before countering. “Actually, we are going to use the time to do some house hunting.” He hesitated for a minute. “We’ve started talking about, um, the next steps in starting our family.”

Kids? Oh god, Jensen was going to be an uncle. He was already an uncle to Harper’s clan, but this was Jared. All the tension momentarily evaporated as you both offered your excitement and congratulations.

“Yeah, our current setup isn’t going to cut it. We need more space, a yard.” Jared explained. “Y/n, are you interested in kids?”

Jensen choked on the last piece of steak, recovering with a swig of wine. The temporary peace was broken yet again.

“Oh, um.” You stammered, trying to think of a response. Every couple (that was serious, that is) had to come across this question. You just didn’t picture you were there yet with Jensen. And you didn’t picture the conversation would come about this way. “Well, I’ve recently only managed to keep a house plant alive, so maybe the next step is like a cat or something before moving onto a…” You gulped. “A child.”

“Hmm. So you haven’t given it much thought?” He clarified.

“I mean,” Heat was rising to your cheeks. “It might not be my first choice, looking after a little drooling, monstrous carbon copy. Don’t get me wrong, I love being Aunt Y/n to my niece but one of my own. It’s a lot of responsibility and sacrifice and time and money… I don’t know. There’s a lot of benefits, too, I’m sure. You and Gen will be fantastic parents!”

“Interesting.” Jared ignored your last comment. “Wasn’t it in Colorado that you said you’d have Jensen’s babies? Or maybe that’s changed after you got to know him more.” He chuckled a bit, trying to conceal it as a joke.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jensen attempted to shut this down.

“No, I never actually said that.” You talked over him and defended yourself. “Casey, a fan, although more than well-meaning, took several liberties that day. A decision that big should require careful consideration rather than something silly like initial attraction or blind devotion, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Absolutely,” he responded sincerely. “Such as your partner’s thoughts on the issue. Gen and I knew immediately that growing our family was an intention for our relationship. Jensen, you’ve always wanted kids, haven’t you?”

If looks could kill, Jared would currently be en route to the nearest morgue. But then he caught a glance at your wide, curious eyes awaiting an answer. There’s no way he would lie about this. Yet, this was the first time the subject of the long-term future had been broached. He swallowed the lump in his throat with another dose of wine, then threw his napkin on his plate.

“I have always seen my future with one or two kiddos running around.” He spoke softly and slowly. “But if my partner wasn’t on board, there’s no way I’d force that upon them. The two of us would always come first.”

Jared raised his eyebrows and nodded, staying silent as he finished his last bite.

You filled the silence instead, unable to handle the pause in conversation. “Similarly, I would never want to deny my future partner if that was something that was really important to them.”

Jensen closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. This wasn’t a relationship-ending kind of conversation. You did share common ground. And it was each other.

“That seems like a lot of sacrifice.” Jared circled back to the earlier point.

“But what is love?” You asked back.

Jensen whined a high-pitched melody under his breath, “Baby, don’t hurt me,” so over this conversation.

But Jared and you were beyond dialed in.

“You want to define that here, tonight?” Jared pushed. “Scholars, philosophers, religions; they’ve been trying to do that since the dawn of humanity.”

“Many of which have brought it back to sacrifice.”

“And many of which have used that ideal to perpetuate cycles of horrendous abuse.”

You pushed your plate aside, needing the space to talk with your hands. “I’m not denying that. But if you are talking on an individual level about two people in love outside of an institution, there are many components, but sacrifice is usually one of them.”

“So you’re arguing you shouldn’t be happy for the sake of the other person?”

“I’m arguing,” You strained. “Both people in the relationship sacrifice for each other, and not only are they happy to do so, but it is a privilege. You lift each other up and balance the other, and there is a net gain rather than elevating one over the other, becoming nothing more than a mere doormat. Trust me, I’ve been around enough narcissists to understand that never ends well.”

“So that’s your conclusion: love is sacrifice?” Jared asked.

Was he trying to trap you? “Like I said, it’s a component. But at the end of the day, I’d say love is a choice. There’s those initial feelings of lust and excitement and newness that will eventually fade away. And you’ll get on each other’s nerves, and there’ll be tears and fighting, and hell, we all get old, and gravity always wins. There’ll be moments where you have to choose. In fact, there’ll probably be moments where you choose not to. At the end of the day, I’d like to end up with someone who is my best friend above all else because you’ll have that to fall back on when it's hard to love.”

Jared didn’t say it contradictory but as a compliment to your point. “Friendship is its own kind of love.” He looked to Jensen apologetically.

“Very true.” You agreed. “What do you think, Jensen?”

Jensen sighed and shook his head. He stood up to start clearing the table. “It’s a mystery. Sometimes love is just love.”

You began stacking the dishes, bringing them to the kitchen as well. “It defies explanation, logic even.” You added.

Jared grabbed the bottle of wine, refilled glasses, and brought the fresh pour to you. “And definition. It’s the ultimate expression of humanity, isn’t it? To wrestle with complex concepts.”

You chuckled, taking a sip. “I guess that’s based on how you define humanity.”

Jared leaned against the counter. “Well…”

Jensen snapped up from putting plates in the dishwasher. “How about a movie?”

Jared lost his train of thought. “I have kind of been in the mood for The Matrix.”

You beamed. Perhaps this disaster of a night wasn’t ruined after all. It would be the perfect opportunity to bring up simulation theory with Jared. From what Jensen told you, Jared loved debating and theorizing over abstract topics. It would be the perfect foot in. Maybe you could impress him after all.

Jensen caught the mischievous look in your eye. He shook his head. “Don’t…”

But you beat him to it. “That sounds perfect!”

---

Later that night, hours after discussing perceived reality, you hovered over the kitchen sink, scrubbing down the remaining mess. Jared was long gone but thanked you for a pleasant evening. Jensen came up behind you, stripped down to his undershirt and briefs. He pulled your waist to his, wrapping his grasp around your hips, and nuzzled closer.

“Come to bed.” He whispered into your neck.

You half-moaned, leaning into his touch. “I just have a few more.”

“That’s what the dishwasher is for.” He said.

You paused and stiffened. “And ruin the finish on this cast iron? You monster.” Jensen gave a light chuckle before closing his eyes against your skin as you continued. “How do you think tonight went?”

He sighed, chewing it over.

“I know.” You agreed. “I should have done the Wellington.” That earned you a pinch to the side. You yelped. “Not when I’m washing the knives!”

“Honestly,” Jensen started. “I don’t know what to think.”

You took a deep gulp and turned off the faucet before turning to face him. You searched his eyes and ran your pruned thumb against his cheek.

“I don’t want to come between you two.” You strained.

He took your hand and his and glided your knuckles across his lips.

“You’re not.” He whispered.

Your glare pierced him.

Jensen continued. “He’s coming around, albeit slowly.” He added as your gaze held, “I promise.”

Your breath released, and the tension left your body, too tired to challenge him further.

“Come on, off to bed.” He instructed.

But you turned around and yawned, “Only a few more.”

Suddenly, you were swooped up and being carried away from the kitchen. “The rest can wait.”

You hit the mattress, immediately sinking into the plush duvet and feathered pillows. Jensen followed, his warmth and weight wrapping around you. The day's weight full of travel, cooking, cleaning, debating, and worrying all hit you instantly. You closed your eyes, darkness quickly closing in. Yet you couldn’t ignore the lips peppering slow, soft kisses at the edge of your navel.

“Mmmm. Jensen, I’m tired.” You moaned over the response your body had to his touch. His fingers danced along the hem of your shirt, trailing higher. Between kisses, he breathed. “You won’t have to do a thing.”

You popped an eye open and raised an eyebrow, looking down at him through the darkness. The city lights illuminated his features. There was a feral glow in his eyes, waiting for that sweet, sweet permission he longed to hear.

“Are you proposing to use me?” You questioned, rubbing your thighs tighter, seeking pressure to alleviate the quickly growing need.

And he knew it, too. A smirk that would impress even the devil crossed his lips. “That depends,” He brought his hand from your ribs, prying your thighs apart, and you whined in response. “Would you like to be used?”

You nodded even though you could barely keep your eyes open, “Very much.”

He made quick work of your clothing, your lazy attempts to help only impeding the process. The cold air of the condo brushed over your skin, providing temporary alertness as your hair rose and you shivered in response. His hands roamed over you, chasing away the chill, replacing the sharpness with tenderness.

Even as you wrestled sleep from taking you, eyes fluttering close, you could feel his eyes on you. From day one, he made it his mission to study you; taking note of every sharp inhale, every squirm, every crease of the brow. He had been a quick and eager student. His hand gently encouraged your legs apart, his hand roving over your core, parting your very soul as he found his mark. Satisfied, his eyes closed, and his head rested against your chest as he let instinct take over.

Dancing on the edge of sleep yet pulled to the waking world by pleasure, your brain couldn’t comprehend thoughts. The worries of the day, the countless insecurities, the what-ifs, they all melted from your mind. The only thing you knew was touch. It was the only constant. The concept of time faded, and at some point unbeknownst to you, fingers had been replaced with lips.

Incoherent words praised his practiced tongue as thoughts attempted and failed to form meaning. Your hand wound through his hair, gripping to hold him in place as you rocked your hips forward. His arms hooked under your legs, lifting you higher, spreading you farther as he lost his need for air. His only purpose in consuming you.

“Jensen.” You mewled his name as a curse. “Please. God, please.”

Teeth scraped against soft flesh, sending you soaring off that endless cliff. You cried out, a slew of fractured speech. Jensen idly continued as you floated back down to reality. Only as breath returned, hungry for air, did he stop, attempting to catch some himself.

“Turn over,” He instructed through the shallow pants. “On your knees.”

You whined, rubbing your face with your palm. “You said I wouldn’t have to do anything.”

He nipped at your inner thigh. “Brat.”

You lazily smiled until he grabbed your sides and flipped you over himself. That woke you up, but only momentarily as he shuffled behind you, allowing you a minute to bury your head deeper into the pillow.

“Oh, I don’t think so, sweetheart.”

An arm snaked under your diaphragm, and you lost your breath as he pulled you up to a kneel, pinning you against his bare, hard flesh. His hands roamed your curves, already mapped in his mind, desperate to bring to fruition what he had imaged during the month apart. A hand came to your throat, gently squeezing, as he tilted it to the side.

“Color?” He cooed into your ear.

You only moaned, too tired for words, grinding your hips back into him, hoping it would prompt this process further along.

“Use your words.” He softly demanded.

“Green.” You placed a hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze harder. “So fucking green.”

He buried his mouth into the crook of your neck, claiming you, possessing you, undoing you. But two could play this game. With your free hand, you reached behind you, immediately claiming your prize. You stroked up and down his length, stopping at the apex and rolling your grasp.

“Fuck.” He indulged temporarily before taking your hand, guiding it to the top of the headboard.

Your other hand followed suit as he gripped your hips. You arched your back and swayed side to side, inviting him in or, at the very least, enticing him to hurry.

“Patience has never been your strong suit.” He playfully scolded.

As he knocked your knee with his own, spreading you apart further and lower, he bent down, planting long, deliberate kisses on the small of your back. Your eyes fluttered close yet again, your mind at war with your body, demanding sleep. He neared your entrance, testing at first, then surged forward, completely filling you. You cried out, sparks turning to flame as he flooded you. Over and over, he built pace, seeking his own high.

It was unlike anything you had ever known. Nothing existed outside of this claiming rhythm, outside of this mounting heat, outside of this ecstasy. Your mind was blank. Your mind was numb. He was the only thing you had ever known—the only thing you were created for.

His hand gripped your shoulder, arching you deeper, pulling you more flush against his hardness, hitting the deepest parts of you. Your curses and praise garbled together, moans became mute, and blinding pressure rose, threatening to break.

“Come on, Y/n,” Jensen said through ragged pants. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

“Jensen.” You cried, tears spilling over. “I can’t, I’m so tired.”

His grip left your shoulder and joined yours on the headboard, intertwining his fingers with yours as he drove into you over and over and over.

“Yes, you can.” He encouraged. “Tell me where.”

He adjusted, giving you time to assess the effectiveness.

And then, suddenly, “Ah, right there. Fuck, don’t fucking stop.” You squeezed your eyes shut.

He did as he was told, gritting his teeth together, fingers digging into your flesh as he held on. He waited and waited until he felt you close in around him, constricting, demanding he fall off that cliff with you into the deep pool of bright light. Your hands slid from the headboard as you collapsed back onto the mattress. Jensen fell with you, his weight trapping you.

It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. But eventually, you found your way to the surface again, taking a deep, shuttering breath. Jensen rolled off you onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, breathing in and out, in and out. Sweat outlined his sculpted frame as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. When his heart finally settled, his eyes found yours, and he pulled you close.

You were no longer aware if you were sleeping or awake, but still, you said. “I think it is safe to say we can move ‘exhausted sex’ from the maybe category to any fucking time or day.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “Thank you.”

You groaned. “Oh please, let’s not start that again.”

“Fair.” He agreed and thought of something else to say. “You’ve ruined me.”

“I’ve ruined you?” You corrected. “Sir. You’ve gone and rendered the entirety of the male species inconsequential.”

“Okay,” He challenged, rubbing his eyes. “You can’t be that tired if you can spin that heap of bullcrap.”

You burrowed into the crook of his arm and closed your eyes before mumbling, “It's not bullcrap. You’ve ruined me too.”

His eyes darted back and forth in the darkness, contemplating everything you had said about love and god, even children. He looked back at you. Your breath had slowed and evened out. And he knew his epiphany remained true. His love for you was beyond his initial attraction, curiosity, or, frankly, his blue balls. He’d give it all up if you asked, find some office job, become a cat dad. And then it hit him why, and he chuckled, saving that thought for another day because now sleep was threatening him too, and he might not be thinking rationally.

He kissed your hair and whispered, testing it out loud. “I love you.” A cold, electric shiver ran throughout his being.

He froze as you stirred. “Hmm?”

He chuckled. “What would you think about going public?”

You shot up, fully conscious. Fully alert. Your brow furrowed, trying to comprehend.

“Aren’t we already public? You did ask me out at a convention?”

He also sat up, rubbing his hands through his hair to stir further energy.

“Well, kind of. People know I’m dating, but only a select few know who.” He explained trying to assess your emotions at the same time. “We’ve done a pretty good job keeping a wrap on your identity.”

“Probably ‘cause your ballcap and sunglasses are such a convincing disguise, Clark Kent.” You teased.

“Smartass,” he grumbled. “Probably more likely because I have a good manager and an even better team right now who locked down and scrubbed your social media.” He waited for you and added, “If you don’t want to…”

“No, that’s not it.” You stopped him. “I… Can I think it over?”

“Of course. Take all the time you need; there’s no rush.” He assured.

“I’ll have to talk to some people beforehand. Friends, coworkers, family.” You gritted your teeth. “My mom, she… Well, she might make things difficult.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up so late. We can sleep on it and talk to the team tomorrow. They’ll answer any questions you have and maybe provide some guidance on the hard things.” He bent down to look into your eyes. “Okay?”

You nodded in response.

“Let’s get some rest, yeah?” He encouraged again and pulled you down against him.

But how the fuck were you supposed to sleep now? Your whole world could change overnight. And you weren’t sure you were ready for it.

---

TAGS:

Everything Jackles: @akshi8278

GHTTC: @maggiegirl17 @foxyjwls007 @djs8891 @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @ghostofjoharvelle @ellen-reincarnated1967 @deansgirl79 @chriszgirl92

(Always feel free to ask to be added or removed (I won't be offended))

[fluentmoviequoter]

Don't Touch Her

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You and Deacon are abducted by men who want revenge on you. After Deacon is forced to watch them hurt you, it is up to him to comfort you and keep you calm.

Warnings: angst, chloroform, beating/torture of reader (not overly graphic), depictions of injuries, fluff/comfort at the end, I stand by my opinion that Street would always pick rock and fall right into 20-David's trap every time they asked him to play

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: I am a Deacon uses pet names apologist. Sweetheart, gorgeous, babe... He only uses the good ones; which I know for a fact. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Picture from Pinterest

“He always picks rock,” you whisper.

Deacon nods, continuing the streak of tricking Street with something as simple as rock, paper, scissors.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Street says, presenting his fist as ‘rock’ while Deacon lays his palm flat as ‘paper.’

Deacon’s eyes widen, nodding to himself. “I can’t believe I beat you!”

You snicker behind your hand as Deacon shakes Street’s hand, a pleased smile on his face.

“I can’t believe he falls for that every time,” Hondo laughs as Street leaves.

Hicks yells for 20-David to prepare to roll, and your quiet morning of pestering Street becomes a distant memory in the long hours that follow.

✯✯✯✯✯

Through your years of friendship with Deacon, you’ve grown incredibly close. Whether in the field or out to dinner, you can talk without speaking, understand without hearing, and show your care from great distances.

After a series of bank robberies turned hostages, 20-David returns to HQ just past the thirteen-hour mark after leaving. It’s a few minutes after 9 p.m., but you’re all exhausted and hungry. Street, Luca, and Tan decide to go to a nearby 24-hour diner before going home, but you want to go home, not sit in a greasy diner.

“Want to come over for dinner?” you ask Deacon, removing your gear and stowing it in your locker.

“Sure,” Deacon answers happily. “You cooking?”

“Oh, yeah,” you play along. “I was thinking a three or four-course meal, worthy of a Michelin tire - star or two.”

Hondo chuckles at your joke before waving over his shoulder on his way out.

“Sounds delicious,” Deacon replies with a smile. “But I’m in the mood for something a little faster.”

You nod, leaning against Deacon as he takes your bag. After years of spending time together after work, you have created a well-calculated habit. If you go to your house, Deacon drives, but if you go to his house, you drive. Most nights, one of you leaves your car at S.W.A.T. HQ, accompanying the other to work the following morning.

Deacon wraps his arm around your shoulders, leading you to the parking lot and stowing your bag with his. Offering you a hand, he helps you into the car and ensures you are buckled in, safe, and comfortable before shifting the car into gear and driving away from work for a few hours of rest.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Careful,” Deacon says as he helps you out of the car.

“Ricky, who is that?”

Ricky shrugs, hiding just out of sight in your hallway. 

“Should we bail?”

“Are you crazy, James? No! This is our chance to get him out. He’s our brother,” Rick argues quietly. “Just get ready for two fighters.”

The door opens, and you step in before Deacon. As you close the door, you raise a hand to stop Deacon. Something feels off, though you can’t place what.

Walking toward your hallway, Deacon is right behind you when two masked assailants attack you. Approaching from behind, you and Deacon are at a disadvantage as you try to keep them far enough away to keep the rags in their hands away from your faces. You elbow the man behind you in the ribs, but when he leans forward, the rag covers your mouth and nose as the smell of chloroform invades your senses. Even as your reflexes slow, you continue fighting, looking over at Deacon in a similarly poor state.

 “Don’t touch her,” Deacon growls through the rag, fighting against the arms holding him still.

A dark chuckle sounds as Deacon watches you fall to the floor, his own consciousness fading soon after.

✯✯✯✯✯

When Deacon opens his eyes, his first thought is you. He immediately feels the cold steel chair under him and the tight handcuffs on his wrists, but he ignores his own conditions as he scans the room for you.

Across the room, your hands are suspended and tied above a rafter. Your feet are still on the floor, but the position is straining your muscles and leaving you open to anything.

You blink your eyes open, coughing as your senses return one by one. Deacon tucks one leg under his chair, prepared to lunge toward you and free you, but the two men from your house walk in before he can.

One points a gun at you while telling Deacon, “You move, and she dies.”

Closing your eyes as you take a shaky breath, you level your expression before sending Deacon a sad smile and a nod.

“You remember my brother?” one of the men asks as he raises his mask just long enough for you to place him.

“Ricky,” you begin.

A metal pipe hangs from Ricky’s hand, and he swings it up toward you before you finish. Your breath rushes out quickly, and when you tip forward, your shoulders catch the brunt of your weight.

“So, you know me, but you don’t care that my brother is still in there,” Ricky replies, pushing your legs back with the pipe.

You yelp at the strain on your arms, and Deacon’s jaw clenches when the second man spins the gun to remind him he can’t do anything.

“Stay, boy,” he taunts.

Deacon can only watch as you’re beaten, catching Ricky’s comments about a past case riddled between his hits. Trying to get more information, he can’t place the case until he hears another name.

“James, care for a turn?” Ricky asks.

James and Ricky, Deacon realizes, are the brothers (in the Los Angeles gang sense of the word) of a man you arrested several years ago on a drug charge.

You scream, pulling Deacon from his memory as his eyes find you again. James has a large piece of rubber wrapped around his hand as he swings his arm, punching you in the face and knocking your balance off again. Deacon’s eyes fall momentarily, looking away when he sees the growing puddle of blood on the concrete floor below you.

Deacon wants to look away from you, but he can’t. When you find the strength to look up at him after a harsh blow from the pipe, your face is bloody and tear-stained. Deacon’s nostrils flare in anger as he tenses every muscle to keep himself from running to you and making it worse.

With tears building behind his eyes, Deacon continues watching as James and Ricky alternate blows, slowing as you stop reacting. When your head drops forward, the pain getting the best of you, they decide they’ve had enough for now.

James stops in the doorway, turning to Deacon as he jokes, “Release, boy,” before locking you and Deacon inside.

Deacon rises slightly, worried about your lack of movement until you speak.

“Don’t,” you say, more blood falling to the floor as you speak. “It’s a trap, Deac.”

“Why now?” Deacon asks quietly. “That was years ago.”

“I testified against his parole,” you answer weakly. “He was doing better with the psychiatric help and he’s so close to getting his degree. He’s changing, but they want their running buddy back.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You flinch as a truck roars to life outside the wall behind you, grumbling as gravel is sprayed onto the wall. Deacon waits, and after several minutes of silence, he stands and walks across the room to you. Kneeling before you, he gently lifts your legs one at a time to wrap his linked arms around you.

Your small gasps, groans, and winces of pain are met with a quiet but reverent apology as Deacon slows his movements. He raises his arms to your hips, lifting you to remove the strain from your arms.

“Move your arms forward,” he encourages, “the nail is straight out, so you should be able to slide the rope off.”

With a jerky movement forward, you feel the rope slide before freezing when a door slams.

“Go,” you command, worry in your voice as you squirm to encourage Deacon’s arms back down your legs. “Please, Deac, go now.”

He obeys, hesitantly returning to the chair just before the door swings open. James walks in, shaking his head as he walks behind Deacon. Expecting another comment comparing him to a dog, Deacon keeps his eyes on you.

He can’t see what James is doing behind him, but your eyes widen suddenly, the now-visible whites a stark contrast to your blood-soaked face.

“Don’t- don’t do that, James. I will do whatever you want me to,” you beg, your voice too strong for the situation.

Deacon can tell from the tone of your voice that you’re worried about him, whatever James is preparing to do to him. However, the puddle of blood below you concerns him far worse than anything they can do to him.

“You’ve survived all night,” James says with a small sigh. “I guess I can give you a few more hours to come to your senses.” He walks around Deacon and squeezes your jaw harshly to whisper, “And when the parole office opens, you better be ready to call.”

James pulls a knife from his pocket, and Deacon fights his panic as he watches it rise over your torso, past your face, and to the bindings holding you up. He pulls the knife carelessly, and you fall to the floor, curling in on yourself as he steps over you.

When James leaves, and you and Deacon are alone again, he rushes to your side, gently moving you as he searches for the source of so much blood. 

“If it’s been all night, and it’s tomorrow now, do you think they know?” you ask weakly.

“Hey, look at me,” Deacon requests kindly, waiting until your chin turns toward him. “They’re on their way. Nothing else is going to happen to you before our team gets here. You trust them.”

You nod before a pained exhale exits you, rolling onto your back to ease the sudden pain. With your torso exposed to him, Deacon can now see the particularly nasty gash spanning your right side, from the bottom of your rib cage to your hip. He assumes it is from the metal pipe, and the amount of dried blood surrounding the wound makes him think it is from one of the first blows.

Deacon pulls his jacket down to his hands, balling it around his cuffed hands, and presses it to your bleeding side. You whimper at the pressure and close your eyes tightly.

“You’re going to be okay,” Deacon promises. “Just hold on for me.”

“It hurts.”

“I know, I know, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes and help will be here, remember?”

The door opens suddenly while your mind is still caught on Deacon’s pet name. Someone laughs before grabbing Deacon’s shoulder to pull him away from you. He falls back out of your sight, and you don’t feel strong enough to look up. You hear something metallic hit the floor, followed by a duller thudding noise before the door closes again.

Worried they did something to Deacon, you take a painfully deep breath and prepare to sit up.

“Don’t do that,” Deacon chides, laying a gentle hand over your shoulder to keep you down.

Deacon’s handcuffs are off, and though James said the first aid kit is supposed to get you ready to call the parole office and sound believable, Deacon’s first and only priority is you. He doesn’t care about their goal; he only wants you safe and alive.

You watch Deacon, grateful for the distraction of his focused, caring, yet angry expression as he cleans your wounds, bandaging them as well as he can with the limited supplies. He finishes wrapping the gash on your torso before moving toward your face. Sending you a small, sad smile, Deacon raises his hand to catch the tear that leaks from your eye.

“Don’t lose hope. Not in our team,” he whispers.

“Thank you,” you reply, watching as he gathers a handful of supplies from the kit beside you.

Deacon rubs an antibiotic wipe across your face, staining it red before ripping another open. He feels a bit like Lady Macbeth, stained by your blood and unable to remove it. It takes every wipe and a dampened towel to clean your face enough to evaluate the bruises and scrapes littering your skin. When Deacon can clearly see your mouth again, his eyes narrow before he gently parts your lips.

You whine, and Deacon sees that your lip is split on the inside from one of the countless hits to your face. Deacon nods, glad that the source of the blood present every time you talk is from that and not something internal. 

“We need to get you upright,” he mutters, looking between your head and your injured side. “It’s going to hurt, but I don’t want that blood draining into your stomach.”

“Help me?” you ask, raising a hand toward him.

Deacon nods, tucking his shoulder under your arm and pulling you with him before setting you against the wall, turning so that your deeper wounds aren’t pressed against the wall. Your breathing sounds labored, more so when you tilt your head forward to slow the bleeding, but you’re still conscious and breathing, so Deacon is counting every blessing, no matter its size.

✯✯✯✯✯

Resting against Deacon’s side, you’re harshly distracted from his presence by a gunshot on the other side of the door. You flinch backward into Deacon’s arms, which tighten around you as everything silences. The doorknob rattles, and you turn toward Deacon.

“Deac? You in here?” Hondo yells. “20-David, locked steel door in the basement,” he tells the team.

“Hondo!” Deacon replies with a surprised chuckle. “We’re both in here. Get that door open and call an ambulance!”

Deacon smiles as he kisses your less-battered cheek, thanking God for getting you out. When he hears the charges are set, Deacon moves around you, shielding you from any possible debris.

“Ambulance for who?” Hondo replies just before the door blows open. He sees you behind Deacon and says, “They’re two minutes out.”

Deacon nods, staying by your side as the paramedics load you onto a gurney and transport you to the hospital.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I’m getting discharged,” you cheer, sharing the good news when Deacon returns to your hospital room.

“So, I heard,” he responds, smiling as you extend your hand.

Your doctor wanted you to take several walks throughout the day, and Deacon has offered his company on each of them. He smiles as he walks beside you through the hospital hall.

“You’re going to stay with me for a few days,” he tells you. “As long as that’s okay with you.”

Part of Deacon was worried that seeing him would be a reminder of what you’ve been through. You smile every time he returns, even if he only went down the hall, so he’s confident that you still enjoy his presence.

“So, I’m driving?” you ask with a smile, referencing your habit of trading responsibilities.

He shakes his head, smiling as you wink at him. Your bruises are lighter after several days in the hospital, and your bandages are changed often, signs that you are healing. Your demeanor isn’t that of someone who was beaten and nearly killed just a week ago.

“Thank you, Deacon,” you tell him as you return to your room.

He hovers, ensuring you’re safe as you sit on the lowered bed. “Any one of us would have done it.”

“Even the kiss on the cheek?”

“You don’t remember any such thing,” Deacon replies playfully, pulling his chair to your side.

“I remember that you looked really worried,” you admit quietly, picking at the thin hospital blanket. “But you did what they said so they didn’t kill me.”

“I was worried. Watching that was- I honestly don’t know how I kept myself calm enough to stay in that chair.”

“Your calmness saved my life, Deacon.”

You pull Deacon’s hand into your lap, placing both your hands around his larger one, content in his presence and his care for you.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you get inside Deacon’s house, you sigh as you sit on a comfortable chair after far too long in stiff hospital beds and seats. You watch Deacon as he gathers your things, moving into the kitchen before bringing you a blanket.

“I guess this means we’re done?” you ask.

Deacon looks up quickly, his brows furrowed while his eyes are fixed on yours.

“You’ll never want to come to my house again,” you add.

Deacon releases a panicked breath, the worry that you meant something different escaping. He sits beside you before speaking, laying the blanket in your lap and placing his arm across the cushions behind you.

“I can’t think of a single thing that would drive me away from you,” he says.

“Not even all my scars?”

“You’ve never had a problem with mine.” Deacon shrugs before finishing, “You’re a survivor, that is what those marks mean.”

“I- I want to tell you something, but I don’t want you to think it’s just because you saved my life.”

“Then let’s say it later,” Deacon responds, quickly pressing his lips to your temple. “Maybe we can try dinner again in a few days; enjoy that four-course meal you promised me."

You nod as you laugh, leaning against Deacon’s side. You’ve loved him since long before he saved you, and you’re ready to tell him. Luckily for you, Deacon feels exactly the same, though his protectiveness may be a bit more prevalent for a few weeks.

Each moment spent with Deacon is a gift, and you count down the moments until you can tell him exactly what he means to you. Deacon is your best friend and always will be, but he’s easy to love and willingly gives his love in return. Though his protectiveness swells and his anger rears its head at the court hearing, you lean against his side, a reminder that you are still here because of him. And the dinner after is plenty of incentive to stay calm… for you.

[cinnamonbear22]

Oblivious love (c.s x reader)

Chapter six

First five parts are up <3

This part is suuppperrr long but it’s fun sooo

Tw: fem reader, suggestive!!!, angst, fluff

no one could have ever prepared me for how hard it was being in a long distance relationship. days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. my life seemed as if it were flying by now since i was consumed with working full time at a populated restaurant as a server. me and chris tried the best we could to stay in touch everyday, but considering how both our lives are so busy, sometimes we'd only be able to text once maybe twice a day. we barley call much anymore, and he hasn't been back to boston in six months.

but i knew our connection was strong. it always has been.

but as much as he would reassure me, it was easy for me to get extremely down and insecure. the thought of another girl had always run through my head, or if he was losing interest, or if he really enjoyed the chase but not us actually being together. i knew he was afraid of commitment, and in times like these, it was hard for me to believe he still wanted to be with me.

but every month that we've been together, he'd always send me a package and tons of letters on our little anniversary date. we'd even have an over the phone dinner date. it sounds extremely corny, but it was so worth it. tonight was our nine month anniversary. i was more than anxious to get home to call him, and open the stuff he had sent me. he's always spoiling me.

i had three hours left of my shift, it was a crazy friday night with orders being thrown left and right, rude customers, and even worse tippers. it wasn't a good day for me at all. i had to work an eleven hour shift as well to cover the call offs. as much as i loved making money, this was totally draining. but i knew that at the end of the night i would be able to hear his voice and virtually celebrate with him.

the bell from the kitchen feverishly rang as dishes were flooding the counter. i was quick to snatch them quickly but carefully to take them to each table, being polite and sweet to each of the customers. i felt my overwhelmed body slowly shutting down. i was hot, gross, sweaty, and my mind was completely overstimulated.

i rushed to the back of the restaurant where my manager was helping the cooks with tickets and plating food. "hey im sorry, i need to step out for a minute" i more demanded than asked him as i wiped the beads of sweat coming from my forehead.

"be back in five, please" he nodded with extreme aggressiveness in his eyes as he said with those words. my manager was super sweet and understanding, but i could tell he was just as overwhelmed as i was.

i grabbed my cellphone from my purse and headed out into the back parking lot where i usually spent my breaks sitting against the wall and getting fresh air. i lazily sunk back against the warm brick, letting my body collapse on the cement. without hesitation, i called chris.

it rang for a long time before he actually picked up. "hey baby" his voice was quick to calm my overworked nerves.

"hi" i couldn't help but to smile at the little pet name. he's been calling me that for awhile now, but it always me butterflies. he still gives me butterflies.

"how are you doing? how's work?"

"crazy, we're fucking slammed" i took a deep breath while closing my eyes and leaning my head against the brick.

"awe" he cooed sympathetically, but i couldn't help but hear the array of voices in the background. "i'm sorry love"

"thank you," i tried my best to recognize the voices. it was hard to tell over the phone. "what are you up to?"

"just with a few friends" his answer was short. Which was strange to me because he never answered short, he was always going into detail about every little thing in his life.

"oh" i hummed. i wasn't sure what to make of it, i was most definitely overthinking it.

"i'm so sorry to cut this short but i really have to go" he was now slightly chuckling. i assumed his friends were trying to get his attention.

"it's okay" i swallowed hard and tried to cover the disappointment in my voice.

"i'll try to text you"

"thanks" i bit my lips as i felt my throat completely drying up.

"bye bye my sweet princess" his voice sounded and happy and it was hard for me to reciprocate his energy.

"wait" i held him up, hoping he'd still stay on the line.

"yes baby?"

"are we still going to call tonight..?" i asked sheepishly, afraid of his answer.

"why tonight?" his voice sounded genuinely confused as fits of laughter were happening near him.

"nothing. i'm sorry to bother you, bye" and with that i quickly hung up the phone as tears rolled down my cheeks. how could he forget? did he genuinely forget? i know he's busy... but how..?

the rest of the shift ended up being a bit miserable. even with how busy it was, it was all blocked out by the thoughts of mine and his conversation. millions of possibilities ran in my head to why and how he could’ve forgotten and that basically ate me alive the rest of the night. was it possible did he not care anymore? i was an insignificant part of his busy life, i wasn't a priority to him considering he had much bigger things to worry about. but why is he stringing me along then? just to know he has someone? so he doesn’t feel alone?

after i did my closing duties i didn't hang around like i usually did. i wished everyone a goodnight, grabbed my stuff, and left as fast as i could. there was nothing more that i wanted then to go home and cry into my mothers arms.

the traffic wasn't bad on the way home since its sort of late. barley anyone was out besides at the late night bars or clubs. once i turned down my street, i eyed up the sturniolo's home as if the triplets were magically going to be there. there were two extra cars sitting in their driveway from what their own cars, one of them looked like nate's, the other one i believed was justin's. it wasn't unusual that nate would sometimes go over there solo just to have dinner with them, or help mr. sturniolo out with home projects.

once i had pulled into my driveway a few houses down, i was welcomed with an empty driveway meaning my mom went out. the pit in my stomach grew as a few more tears slipped out of my eyes, wanting nothing but comfort right now. i walked into my empty, dark home with dread hanging heavy over my head. at least i had his card to open tonight, considering it came in the mail a few days ago but i always wait until the day of our anniversary to open it.

i didn't even bother turning on the house lights since i just went straight into my bedroom. the card was laying neatly on my nightstand near some of the trinkets and items from previous packages. as i sat down on my bed, i checked my phone one last time to see if i had any notifications from him.

i prayed there would be. i prayed that he had realized that he'd remember, and this whole night would make a good turn.

but he didn't.

i reached for the card and began opening it since we weren't going to open our gifts over facetime like how we normally do... how did he forget?

inside the envelope contained a store bought card with a corny quote on the front. this was also not like him at all. he always, always hand-wrote me letters that would be several pages long. this was adding to my overthinking, proving myself right that he could be losing interest.

inside the card contained a twenty dollar gift card to mcdonald's, and a continuation of the corny quote in the inside. the only thing that he wrote on the inside was a heart signed with his name after.

"are you serious..?" i took a shaky deep breath while speaking out loud to myself. he never, ever has done anything like this before. it's not that i'm not appreciative of his gifts big or small, I appreciated every single thing this man has ever done for me, but it's easy to tell how minimal effort he put into this. he couldn't even write 'love chris'? he couldn't write a little more? he always does.

i tossed the card on the floor, letting out all my tears instead of holding them back. i threw my phone on my bed and bitterly walked myself into the bathroom, turning on the shower before running back and grabbing some pajamas for after.

i just wanted to talk to him a little longer tonight. i wanted nothing but to hear his voice, and enjoy our anniversary together over the phone. but he couldn't even remember.

this was complete bullshit.

third person

chris in-fact did not forget their anniversary. currently, he was a few houses down from her in his own. justin, nate, (y/n)'s mom, and his parents all picked him and his brothers up at the airport a few hours ago.

chris had been planning this surprise for a few weeks now, and ever since he'd been planning, he's been wanting to tell (y/n) so badly. it was so hard for him to keep anything from her since she was basically his personal diary where he would tell her every thought that ran across his head.

he had sent her a shitty card on purpose just to add more to his surprise. but with keeping this secret from her, over the last few weeks it had been hard for him to even speak to her. everytime he'd hear her voice he felt extreme guilt. he felt like he was lying to her, betraying her. it caused him to be more distant which was also giving him major anxiety.

but finally tonight was the night his plan was finally going to unfold. all of the stress and tension was finally going to be released. his entire body was beaming, he felt so jittery and excited. it had been months since they last seen each other.

not to mention, the amount of gifts he had bought her was absolutely absurd. it took him, matt, nick, and nate to carry everything he had bought for her. he never cared spending the money on her. he enjoyed gift giving.

"she's home from work, she usually jumps in the shower right away once she's off" her mother peered out the window and chris's heart began to race. the love of his life was only a few houses down, just like the past. nick had grabbed the camera since chris had asked him to record it since they had all loved looking back at memories.

"come on, let's go" chris smiled widely, grabbing an arm full of his gifts and matt and nate did the same, nick carried as much as he could since he had already started recording.

they had all piled out their front door, running like children down the sidewalk to (y/n)'s house. they were all chuckling and laughing as the warm summer breeze lifted their hair. all of them felt nostalgic, remembering they used to do this all of the time.

(y/n)'s mom had left the back door open for them in advance before she left her house. they quietly opened her chain linked fence, being cautious of how rusted the hinges were.

all of them were filled with laugher, trying their hardest to open the sliding back door and keeping their chuckles as quiet as possible. chris's energy was extremely contagious, for they all felt overwhelmed with excitement and giddiness. especially because they know how hard it was for chris to keep the secret away from (y/n).

"wait" matt quietly shushed all of them as they all stopped dead in their tracks. they all stood around and looked at him, seeing what the problem was. "alright showers going, let's go" he smiled and they began to tiptoe on the steps leading up to her bedroom.

"we have to do this real quick" chris spoke low to them as he opened up her door slowly.

quietly, each of them flooded into her room and they all instantly got to work. nick handed the camera off to nathan as he began to arrange the rose petals chris had bought into a heart on her bed. matt and nathan scattered the helium balloons around her bedroom, as chris started to litter her bed with the gifts he had bought her. he had ended up buying her so much that he couldn't even fit all the presents on just her bed, he had to arrange them neatly on her bedroom floor.

"mom?" (y/n) called down her steps, causing all of the boys to freeze in their place. "are you home?" her voice sounded hurt, making chris's heart drop.

nick quietly made his way behind her door and shut off her lights that were near him. matt laid on the floor near her bed that was out of view from the door, and nathan hurried and took the closet. she sighed when she didn't hear a response, and her footsteps began approaching the room they were all in.

chris held onto the plush bear he got her, which the big bear held a number nine. he was buzzing practically, he anxiously rolled back and forth from his heels to his toes. he couldn't handle the anticipation, he just wanted to run out a hug her as tight as he could. his smile was ear to ear as he could hear the doorknob jiggling, he couldn't see anything since her room was now pitch black.

the doorknob jiggled, but she never entered the room. instead, they heard footsteps straying away from her room and down the steps. "are you fucking kidding me" nick whispered through gritting teeth, causing them all to laugh quietly amongst themselves.

(y/n) skipped down the steps and into her dark kitchen. she flipped on the light switch, and opened up one of her cabinets to grab a bowl. "what's she doing?" matt muttered as everyone listened carefully. once the sound of cereal being poured, they all began to laugh once again.

"cereal after a shower is crazy" nate peaked his head out of the closet and they all began to chuckle more. it was the best type of laughter, where they all tried holding it back but the more they heard each other they just couldn't. it was like getting the giggles in church but you have to be quiet.

"why it crazy though?" chris argued with his friend in the dark, clutching the bear to his chest as he began to sway around anxiously. "if you really think about it it's sort of an amazing comb-"

"be quiet!" nick lowly hushed all of them. the room became completely silent, not even their breathing could be heard. chris listened carefully to the footsteps approaching the door once again. his entire body was radiating as the wide grin came back onto his face. he wouldn't be able to hide it if he tried.

(y/n) wiped her dripping nose with chris's hoodie she was wearing with the hood draped over her head. the scent was almost completely faded from it. she tried her best not to cry anymore. she was so disappointed and upset, she had no idea what to even think. her shower didn't help clear her thoughts whatsoever.

slowly, her bedroom door creaked open and the hallway light spilled into the room. nick held his breath as he held the camera up towards chris. chris's heart was pounding so hard he was convinced everyone in the quiet room must've heard it. (y/n)'s hand wearily roamed her wall to reach the light switch.

once she had flicked it on, chris had finally burst. "happy nine months!" he screamed excitingly, gripping the bear so tight in his hands since he was ecstatic.

first person

my jaw had hit the floor.

my entire stomach filled with butterflies as i set my bowl on my dresser and ran into his arms that quickly welcomed me. he had swiftly dropped the bear he was holding while i jumped into him at full speed, wrapping my arms around his neck and legs around his torso. he stumbled back a little, but he was able to still stand as he held me back just as tight. this had to have now been the one-hundredth time i cried today, but these tears were good ones.

"my love..." i pulled away from him as he held me under my butt, we both looked in each others eyes with extreme adoration. "i missed you" my hand reached around his neck to his face as his eyes grew glossy. his smile was so big and genuine it absolutely melted my heart.

"surprise" he raised his brows and smiled as he spoke in a gentle tone with me. both of us started to lean in, slowly closing the small gap between us.

"woah! woah! woah!" nicks voice screamed throughout the room right as i was about to reach his lips. "do not" he held up his finger wagging it dramatically. my eyes went wide from complete awe as he was holding a camera that was pointed at us.

"nick?!" i looked back at chris with excitement and disbelief, then back to nick. chris set me down and i was quick to engulf nick in a hug. "oh my god nick, why haven't i seen you in so long?" he bent down and hugged me tightly around my shoulders as i strangled his neck, laughing at my reaction into my damp hair. "i'm going to kill you" i wiped my eyes from the tears that were gently falling, i felt an array of emotions all at once and my body didn’t know what to do.

"i'm sorry" he leaned back at me and smiled apologetically, pulling me back into him after i had just smacked his arm. "shit has gotten so crazy" he talked dramatically while i leaned against my best friend. "it wasnt intentional you know that" he squeezed my shoulder gently and platonically pecked the top of my head. "you know you're my best friend for life, no matter what" we both looked at each other and smiled, making me feel so much better.

"where's my matty b?" i stepped away from nick and looked around for matt. I knew he had to be here somewhere since he was usually never without them. as my eyes were scanning the area for him, i finally began recognizing my room. it was littered with gorgeously wrapped gifts and bags that spilled off of my bed. there was rose petals that were arranged in a heart with a nine in the center, and balloons floated against my ceiling. my heart had completely stopped at the display in front of me. "oh my god..." i froze in place as my hand covered my agape mouth staring at the array of gestures. "christopher..." i looked over at him with shock which he smiled widely and crossed his arms pridefully.

"i'm here" matt pushed himself off my floor, but i was so caught up in the scene in front of me his words were drowned out. i was completely lost in chris's overjoyed smile. "don't be too excited" his tone sounded sassy which immediately drew my attention back to him.

"awe matt," i quickly turned with open arms and pulled him right into me. "i missed you so much" i gave him a tight squeeze around his torso as his hands rubbed my back. "you're a jerk too for not seeing me sooner" i pulled away and nudged his stomach playfully as he chuckled from how ticklish he was.

"come on," he smiled down at me and kept his arm around my shoulder. He still gently rubbing my back before speaking again, "you know i didn't do it on purpose. like nick said, it's been absolutely insane down in l.a. for us"

"i understand, im just teasing you" i gave him one more tight squeeze before i slowly gravitated towards chris. He smiled warmly at me as he held up one of his arms in a welcoming manner. i leaned right into him as his arm draped around my shoulder and kissing the top of my head excitedly. my closet doors suddenly swung open, revealing nate with a goofy smile. "nathan?" i was more confused than excited, considering me and him went out for coffee this morning. "are you serious? did you know the whole time?"

"what? it's not my secret to tell" he grinned as i walked out from underneath Chris to hug him lovingly even though i was with him almost everyday.

"and you're a jerk, as well as the rest of them" i had nudged his arm with saying that, but i was prompt to head straight back into chris. i rested my head against his shoulder as i wrapped my arm around his torso looking around the room filled with an absurd amount of gifts and my best friends. his strong scent filled my nose, giving me a serene sensation i've been craving.

"alright, we're going to leave you guys alone" nick put down the camera as he watched me and Chris adoringly. He started to gather up Matt and Nathan like a mother.

"awe guys," i slightly pouted at the sight of them walking out of my room. as much as i wanted to be with chris right now, i havent seen matt and nick in months. I missed them just as much as I missed chris. "we have to do something tomorrow okay?" i walked over to both nick and matt, opening my arms for another hug from the each of them.

"promise" matt rubbed my back softly for reassurance of the plans.

"i love you guys, thank you so much" my eyes darted in between nick, matt, and nate. "ill see you tomorrow nate" i hugged him too since i didn't want him to feel left out. they all started to walk out of my bedroom, closing the door behind them. i didn't even have to let them out since they've been here so many times, it's like their second home. once i had heard the door close shut, I turned around slowly to face my goofy boyfriend. "christopher owen what have you done?" i asked in shock with my hand on my hips, looking like a mother who's about to discipline her child.

"was it too much?" he chuckled as i still stood in place, reality completely setting in for me now. i didn’t know how to feel at all, i was so down for months, especially today and then suddenly, here is the solution for my sadness standing right in front of me. but for one, i've been neglected all day long by him, and quite frankly the last month has been pretty rough communication wise. so he thinks a ton of gifts are going to undo the damage? but it was such a surprise... it seemed genuine if he had his brothers and friend here to help. it was hard to be mad at him, i could never stay mad at him, but the way he makes me feel sometimes is unbearable. "you're not talking right now i'm scared" he raised the large teddy bear up to hide his face childishly before walking closer to me. he started to reach his arms out to grab me with a smug grin. I didn’t know how to feel at all right now. truly, I’ve never felt more mixed emotions in my life.

"i'm seriously going to kill you" i pushed his arm away as he tried to give me a hug. his face completely dropped from a sly smirk to a tense, hesitant expression.

"what?" he pouted with glossy lips and his brows knit tightly together with confusion.

"you made me feel like a piece of shit all day chris, not even all day but the last month" my emotions felt extremely mixed. i am so much more than happy to see him, he’s the love of my life, but the way things have been going for us haven't been all too good. everytime I bring up that I wanted to talk about our issue and fixing it, he would always come up with an excuse to why we couldn’t talk right then, or not even respond at all. i knew he wasn’t the type to handle confrontation well, but if this was going to be the only time we had to talk about it, it was going to happen now.

"i-im sorry!" he slightly raised his voice that was laced with a bit of fear. "please don't be mad, i know you are though, but see, it was all apart of the plan" he smiled pleadingly while rambling and started slowly moving away from me. "listen baby, i know i've seemed distant for a little bit but you have to understand" he pressed his lips together as his eyes were showing extreme distress.

"understand what?" i cocked a brow aggressively without even meaning to.

"i started planning this surprise around two months ago, and ever since i booked the flights and told my brothers the idea, i've felt so anxious ever since." his tone was sincere and timid as he still held eye contact with me.

"anxious about what?" i asked more softly, my heart slowly began to melt. I hated hearing that he was anxious, I know how bad he struggles with anxiety but he refuses to talk a lot about it, so him openly using that term made my heart sink.

"every single time we'd speak, text, call, whatever! i always felt like i was lying to you by not telling you i was coming back into town for our anniversary, and that really, really stressed me out" he took a deep breath with his hand over his chest. “because it would just fucking kill me everytime I heard your little voice over the phone asking ‘am I going to see you soon?’ and I just had to say no” he mocked my voice but in a non-teasing manner. It looked as if he were having a small panic attack, his eyes frantically roamed all over my face and his chest rose and fell rapidly. I bit my lip guilty at the fact that I jumped to conclusions way too quickly. "and i cannot lie to you, ever, i had to lie and tell you i wasn't coming home anytime soon, i lied about upcoming events, i had to lie and lie and lie" he swallowed hard as my face completely softened from the anger I was holding onto. "i don't like lying to you. i never will ever again, and it was so hard on me to keep this from you since i tell you everything" he was anxiously rambling, our eyes locked strongly as he spoke. "i felt so guilty, i didn't even know how to talk to you for the last month. i'm so sorry." i stood there quietly while my eyes darted across the room at the substantial amount of gifts that were overflowing from my bed to the ground, then back up at chris who was rubbing his mouth; one of his subconscious nervous habits. "baby i'm really sorry" his brows knitted together as his eyes widened and he kept his hand covering his mouth. "please say something i'm really scared" he broke eye contact with me for the first time and looked around the room nervously.

my heart was completely melted. i felt so ashamed to even be passive aggressive towards him, he didn't deserve that at all. my lips pouted for playful sympathy as i started to walk towards him. i stood on my tip toes and i threw my arms around his shoulders, hugging his neck and running my fingers through his soft hair. "chris" i sighed and hugged him tighter as his arms found their way around to my waist. my head gently rested on his shoulder as i took in more of his cologne. "i love you, so, so much" i picked my head off of his shoulder and began to pepper kisses all around his cheeks, earning a lot of small chuckles and laughs from him. "you are the sweetest boy ever" my hands traveled from hair hair up his jaw to cup his face. his big familiar smile returned from earlier. "thank you" i smiled back up at him, caressing his cheeks gently as his eyes focused down on me. his face was completely relaxed now, no more tension, no more stress. just him.

he slowly bent his head down to my height and yanked me even closer to him. our bodies were fully pressed together now, and as much as we've been close and intimate, butterflies were quickly filling the insides of my stomach as i felt a blush spread across my face. his ears were tinted a soft pink as well as his cheeks, making me smile even wider at how adorable he looked. "you're smile is so precious" his eyes looked down at my mouth and quickly reconnected with mine again. i bit my lip to try and resist smiling and blushing even more, but i couldn't help it. "thank you for forgiving me my sweet princess," his hand swept gently across my burning cheeks, brushing away my stray damp hair.

"how could i not" my hands still held his gentle face as we both stared at each other with worship and appreciation. we both began to lean in and finally, after six long months, our lips softly engaged in a sweet, tender kiss. we were both so light with our soft touches, but the energy and compassion was radiating throughout the room. we breathed heavily against each other as my hands laced through the back of his hair and his big hands started squeezing my waist, pulling me into him even more as if we havent seen each other in decades. i felt him begin to smile in the kiss, making me blush even harder. his smile then turned to small chuckles as he pulled away from me and covered his mouth to try and refrain his laughter. "what?" i looked at him in an amused fashion, my eyebrows shot up with confusion as i immediately felt embarrassed. "did i do something? did my kissing get bad?"

"no, no" he waved his hands as his face was pink and his eyes were squinted shut from laughing so much. "i'm just really, really happy. i started laughing i’m sorry" he pressed a smile in his lips before covering his mouth again and looking away. "i'm sorry"

"do i have something on my face or what?" i immediately pushed myself off of him and turned to look in the mirror that's on my wall, checking myself up and down to see if there was anything laughable. "bad breath?"

"no," he whined, accentuating the 'o' before he came up behind and picked me up by the waist, squeezing me tightly. "i'm actually just so happy and giggly" he kissed my cheek before picking me up and spinning us around. i began to laugh now at his high energy, i could feel it shedding off of him and into me. "i'm just so happy to see my girl" he set me down but still kept his arms around my waist. he gently began swaying us both side to side as i laughed with him. "my girl, my girl, my girl" he sang the temptations song in my ear as his head laid on my shoulder. "now," he spun me around again and faced me towards my bed. "i want to see you open all your gifts" he let go of my waist and began to rub his hands together deviously. "i can't wait to see your reaction" he smirked down at me causing me to laugh.

"youre the corniest person i've ever met." i shook my head as he softly pushed me to sit on my bed. like a little elf, he handed me every single gift. each gift i had opened he would give an explanation for each item i've received. what meaning it had, why he picked it, where he got it and whatnot. he was completely ecstatic and had high reactions to my own. it was like he was the one receiving. each item he got me was expensive... price does not matter to me whatsoever, but absolutely nothing at all was cheap of what he got me. i felt so horrible and guilty at the same time. "chris i feel like a spoiled brat right now" i shyly looked up at him as i held a dior necklace in my hands, the same one i have only mentioned one time to him months ago.

"you are a brat" he was laying on his side across ny bed, his arm propping his head up as he watched me open the gifts. his eyes were slightly drooping now, making me almost fold completely.

he had to have been tired from a long day especially with flying, that always made him excessively sleepy. his eyes tiredly looked up at me, his hair was a bit messy, and his bicep was slightly flexed as he held his head up. "am i?" i jokingly challenged him, trying to bother him on purpose.

"oh yeah," his voice was slightly hoarse as well, making me tense up. "you're a little spoiled brat" he widened his eyes in a silly manner, nudging me in the back with his foot. "look at you blushing" he cooed at me in a high-pitched voice, reaching his hand that wasn't holding his head up to pinch at my thighs.

"cut it out" i covered my face and looked the opposite direction, only getting more flustered. i couldn't even control it at this point.

"stop, look back" he whined childishly but i didn't listen to him just to push his buttons. "see you are a brat you don't listen" i heard him shift on the bed and quickly i felt his hands slide against my waist. he rested his head on my shoulder, pressing me against his chest. "what? you dont like being called a spoiled brat?" his fingers gently crept from my back up to my neck, pushing my hair away softly as he craned his face in my skin.

"you're so annoying" i leaned against him, tilting my head to the side so he had more room to nestle his face in. i was such a sucker for him.

"am i?" he mocked me as his hot breath hit against my skin, sending chills immediately up my spine. "if i'm so annoying then why do you have goosebumps?" he gently pressed his lips into the side of my neck, completely making me cave into him. i didn't even know how to tease him back, his touch was easy to make my head spin. "c'mon my love let's open the rest of the gifts" he now pecked a kiss underneath my jawline as his hands slid underneath the hoodie i was wearing, gripping my bare waist tightly. his hands felt so warm against my skin.

"don't tease me" i snapped out of the trance i was in, taking my head off of him so I could look up at him behind me. his eyes were still droopily tired with a cocky smirk across his face.

"what? i'm not doing anything" he pretended to be innocent behind his lustful blue eyes. i looked him up and down with pressed lips together as his fingers started to rub tiny circles in my waist.

"are you going to let me go so i can keep opening your gifts?" i collected myself so i could shoot back at him.

"i'm never, ever letting you go" his sexy smirk turned into a large smile and he quickly kissed my forehead. He started to shuffle around the bed some more and scooted closer towards me.

"corny" i rolled my eyes at him before he completely picked me up on the bed, and threw me to the other side.

"who you callin' corny" he began to tickle me as rose petals now scattered everywhere, and i began laughing as hard as i could.

"chris! im going to kill you!" i roared while trying to swat his hands away until i finally lunged up at him. i started to push him off me as and began feverishly hitting him to try and get him to stop tickling me.

but considering all of his years fighting with his brothers, he swiftly grabbed my hands in an instant, and tackled me against the bed. "you're so cute" he had big puppy dog eyes as he was fully restricting my limbs since he was on top of my arms and legs. he began peppering kisses all over my face as i tried to squirm and move out of his grip. "awe," he cooed down at me as my face was cringing away from him. "you'll never be able to get away" he teased me one more time before getting up to sit calmly at the edge of my bed.

"you're so crazy" i tried to kick him but my legs didn't reach. he just smiled and shook his head, laughing away at his own actions.

"crazy in love" he said in a nerdy voice before collapsing and laying completely dead in my bed. he sighed dramatically like how they do in movies, making me laugh even more at him. everything felt so perfect. so normal. for the first time in months i felt complete. he was truly my other half.

i crawled over to him as he pretended to be dead at the edge of my bed, his eyes were shut and his tongue was hanging out. i laughed at him and pinched his side, and surprisingly he didn’t even flinch. "that's so unfortunate" i sighed loudly like he did but his eyes still didn’t open. "well, good thing i can go to my other boyfriends house in my new victoria secret set, lacy, reveali-"

"what new set?" only one of his blue eyes opened and i immediately started laughing at his immaturity. "you got a new set and didn't show me?!" both his eyes now opened widely as i sat above him.

"not concerned about the other boyfriend or?" i joked but he quickly responded with scoff.

"i know you don't have another boyfriend because i've demolished every single male who looks your way" he raised his brows dramatically with a know it all attitude, cracking his knuckles goofily and nodding proudly.

"demolished is a crazy word choice" my hand reached down to his head that was rested near my lap. i started to gently run my nails through his hair and he instantly smiled at the sensation. He looked up at me lovingly, and returned the gaze. “you’re so weird,” i giggled down at his silly lovestruck smile.

"show me the new set" his expression looked eagerly at me while wiggling his eyebrows.

"you are the worlds biggest cornball" i slapped his arm and he pinched my thigh as his comeback. "i didn't actually get one"

"boo" he shoved a thumbs down in my face before putting his arms behind his head, showing off more of the veins in his along his forearms and wrist. "don't worry," he brought back his devious smirk that made my heart drop. "i got you one."

"did you really?" i was shocked, not expecting that at all from him. "how did you know what size to get?" i tilted my head in curiosity.

"i know you inside and out baby" he winked jokingly at me, instantly causing blood to rush straight to my cheeks.

"i hate you" i laughed in an embarrassed manner while feeling the cockiness radiate off of him.

"it's in that pink bag right there" he lifted his arm out from behind his head and pointed to one of the unopened bags on the ground. "try it on" he demanded, but quickly changed his demeanor. "please" he softened his hard face to a pleading one.

my cheeks were most definitely as bright as a tomato as i stood up from my bed, stepping over gift bags and reaching for the pink one. "this one?" i asked while holding it up as he nodded with a wide smile on his face. "oh my god.." i bit my lip nervously.

i set the bag down on my dresser and began to move the tissue paper over to reveal a smaller box inside. chris started to shift around in my bed, sitting straight up with his hands neatly in his lap. "i'm really excited" he clapped his hands as he carefully watched my expression through the mirror. "but if you don't want to try it on it's okay" he quickly threw up his hands in defense with big apologetic eyes.

"no, no, i will" i turned back and looked at him with the box in my hand.

"are you sure?" he asked, his lustful attitude quickly left as he double checked.

"yes baby" i smiled and didn’t hesitate to walk out of my room into the bathroom. i didn't mind changing in front of him, but i wanted this to be a surprise since he was on the edge of his seat.

i walked down the hall into the bathroom and quickly opened the box. inside there was a white lingere set. the top was very lacy and displaying, definitely not covering up much. as well as the bottoms, they were lacy just like the top, with not much coverage.

of course, he'd pick the one with the least amount of fabric.

i began undressing myself from my pajamas and into the lingerie. i have no idea if this would fit considering how small it was... i carefully clasped the bra and turned it around the right way, weaving my arms into the delicate straps. i dropped my pants, and slid on the tiny thong.

i looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, and surprisingly, it hugged everything perfectly. it accentuated my breast as well as my thighs, making me feel like a super model. although it was extremely sheer and revealing, it made me look amazing.

i started to pick up my clothes off the bathroom floor and i started to assemble the small box back together so i didn't leave a mess. as i was throwing away the tissue paper from inside the box, a condom fell out from the decretive sheer sheets. "chris.." i sighed to myself before grabbing it as well as the rest of the items i took into the bathroom. i hurried down the hall incase my mom came home and i didn't hear, and stood nervously outside my door. "close your eyes" i yelled, resting my hand on the knob.

[homelanderbutbig]

We Made It Together (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1780 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

You teach Homelander how to make pancakes.

Homelander's been especially clingy this evening, requiring your undivided attention the second you got off work. When you walked out of the elevator and into his penthouse, you found him moping on the couch in his living room, gloves off, just wanting to snuggle his head into your lap.

You've been glued in this position for a couple hours now, and you are acutely aware that you've long since passed your regular dinner time. And if you're hungry, you know Homelander is too, even if he doesn't want to say anything lest your cuddle time ends.

"I'm starving. We should probably get dinner started," you reflect, lazily caressing his cheek with your palm.

"Just call the Vought chefs," he mumbles, turning his head over to look up at you. He doesn't want you to get up off the couch; he just wants to spend the rest of the evening in your lap.

"No, I wanna make us dinner tonight," you remark. "I think we both could use something homemade."

"Maybe… pancakes?" you ponder, smiling while you boop his nose with your index finger.

"…For dinner?" Homelander enquires confoundedly, lifting himself up to a seated position.

Ever since he was a child in the lab, he was raised to follow the three staple meal times set out for him. It's been ingrained so heavily into him, he has not once strayed outside of this routine. He's never even heard of something as ridiculous as eating breakfast foods for dinner.

He watches you silently as you slide off the couch and head to the kitchen. You shoot him a sly grin, giggling to yourself at seeing his baffled expression.

Once in the kitchen you get to work quickly, moving your stepping stool over to the fridge and the cupboards. You've gotten quite used to maneuvering around his kitchen, as everything had been built taller to accommodate Homelander's height. Pulling out the ingredients, mixing bowl and frying pan, you plant yourself at the countertop next to the stove. You've made this recipe so many times you know it like the back of your hand; nearly every morning at the penthouse consists of pancakes.

You are so focused at the task at hand you don't see Homelander get off the couch and saunter over to you, arms crossed behind his back. He is observing you intently while you sift your flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt together in a large glass bowl. When he leans down a bit lower behind your comparatively smaller frame, you finally take notice of his presence.

"You wanna help?" you ask, smiling sweetly up at him.

As if you posed a forbidden question, Homelander's eyes open wide. His mouth parts open, but it takes a few moments before he can force any words out.

"I… uh… I-I don't…" he stammers, straightening back up to his full height. Immediately, his eyes dart frantically as he feels his body become tense from your proposal.

While Homelander prefers to be seen as a perfectly capable man, a god who does not make any errors, he is ashamed to admit he has never cooked a day in his life. Growing up in the lab, all of his meals were made for him, and he was never taught how to prepare food. Despite his lack of knowledge, Vought built him a custom kitchen in his penthouse, one they knew he had no idea how to use. It almost felt like a cruel joke at his expense.

And now, here you are inviting him to cook with you. Although you have no hidden motivations, he is distraught over the possibility of making mistakes. Anything he can't get perfect on the first try is not something he even wants to attempt.

"It's okay, I know you can do it," you comfort him, giving him a gentle pat on his thigh. "Let's start slow. Pass me the milk, butter, and eggs."

Homelander swallows hard, but he resigns himself to his fate… he is going to cook. Out of anything else, he doesn't want to let you down by neglecting the tasks you've assigned him. Painstakingly, like they are made of bone china, he passes you the ingredients one by one. The carton of milk and sticks of butter are simple enough, but… then comes the challenge. Every single egg he picks up fills him with dread, knowing even the slightest twitch of his fingers could break their delicate shells.

But somehow he manages, spurred on by the small hits of praise you give him for every egg he passes into your waiting hand. Your bright smile and warm voice takes the edge off his nerves, allowing himself to get more comfortable. However, he gets a bit too distracted by your compliments, and accidentally cracks an egg in between his big fingers.

"I'm sorry," Homelander sputters instantly. "I-I-I'm sorry." He can't bear to look in your direction, afraid to see your disappointment. He knew this was inevitable; he can't do ordinary things like a regular human.

"Hey, hey," you say, grabbing a dish cloth to wipe the egg off his large hand. "It's okay hun, it was just an accident, right?"

Tentatively nodding, he looks down at you with his glassy eyes.

"Everybody has little accidents when they're cooking," you reassure him. "And this one is nothing to fret over, we have plenty more eggs."

Just seeing you be so dainty with him, cleaning his destructive hand without a sign of displeasure anywhere on your face… that brief spike on insecurity vanishes just as quickly as it came.

Recomposing himself, Homelander takes a deep breath in through his nose to reset his train of thought. He doesn't want to make any more mistakes, he wants to show you how good he can be.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he begins handing you the rest of the eggs, never taking his focus off them for even a second. It's a little funny to see the leader of The Seven acting so serious about eggs, but you know how much this means to him, being able to do something 'normal' with you.

"You did amazing! I'm so proud of you!" you cheer, your own excitement mirrored in Homelander's face. He soaks in your approval like a sponge, eager to begin his next assignment so you can keep being proud of his little achievements.

"I'm going to mix the batter up now," you tell him, grabbing the whisk off the counter. "Can you turn on the stove at about a medium heat? We have to warm up the pan before we make the pancakes."

While you beat the batter, Homelander goes over to the stove and twists the knob to a medium heat. Before he places the frying pan down on the element, he stops and stares at it in his hand.

Your head can't whip around fast enough when you hear the all-too-familiar sound of his laser eyes activating, shooting a low intensity beam at the bottom of the pan to pre-heat it to the precise temperature you asked for. You roll your eyes at your big dork of a boyfriend as he grins down at you, proud of himself for thinking of a more efficient way to cook. Why waste precious minutes of your life waiting for the pan to warm up, when he can do it in mere seconds?

"Okay, we're ready," you remark, holding the ladle out for Homelander. His grin quickly dissipates when he realizes the real gauntlet is about to begin. "Just put a scoop of the batter into the pan. I'll guide you through the rest."

Hesitantly, he takes the ladle from your hand and follows your instructions, pouring the batter into the pan. His eyes shift back and forth from you and the bubbling batter, waiting for your continued directions. After a couple minutes of silent yet intense staring, he finally sees you make a move.

"Alright, now flip the pancake over," you say, handing him the spatula. You reach over and bring the nearby serving platter closer to you. "Give it a few more minutes on this side, then take it out and put it on this plate."

Homelander follows your orders to the letter, keeping the time in his head down to the last second before he removes the pancake and puts in on the platter. He examines you with gritted teeth, filled with anxiety as you inspect his pancake, the very first thing he has ever cooked.

"I-Is it… good?" he asks you uneasily, like his life is on the line if he hasn't done it properly.

"It's perfect," you finally declare, looking into his nervous eyes while you give him a firm grasp of reassurance on his knuckles. "I'm so proud of you. You made a beautiful pancake. Are you ready to try another?"

A toothy grin spreads across his face at your encouragement, showing off his pearly white fangs. Your words of validation are like a drug to him, he can never get enough.

Homelander nods enthusiastically; he wants to make more.

The two of you continue this formula until the batter has run out, and you have quite a hefty stack of pancakes. At his insistence, you let him take the platter to the dining room table, along with two plates, utensils, a bottle of maple syrup, and two glasses of milk. You don't know how he managed to carry all of that without dropping anything, but he really is always full of surprises.

He picks you up and plops you down in his lap while he takes his seat. Filling up the two plates, he places your dinner in front of you. With a drizzle of maple syrup, you cut into a pancake and take your first bite. He waits before he starts eating, wanting to know what you think of your joint efforts.

"Mmm," you hum, savouring your food. Regardless of the recipe being the same thing you've made hundreds of times, it somehow tastes superior knowing Homelander helped. You look up at him, seeing his eyes soften at how much you are enjoying the pancakes. "See? I told you dinner would be better if it was homemade. Even moreso because we made it together."

Beaming at your neverending praise, he angles his head down for a kiss. Tasting the maple syrup and pancakes on your lips spurs something deep within him. A sense of accomplishment, knowing that despite all the ways those scientists in the lab tried to keep him down, he can rise above it all and be… normal.

Maybe he can try helping out in the kitchen with you more often.

[winterchimez]

A Little Care | Lee Sangyeon

SUMMARY: you have been awfully stressed out with work lately, and your boyfriend notices how it has affected you negatively, so he finally decides to give you some care for the night.

PAIRING: bf Sangyeon x f!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: kissing, making out, fingering, oral (f!reader receiving), nipple play, cum tasting (f! reader), p in v sex, unprotected sex (pls do it safely irl folks)

WORD COUNT: 2,253

A/N: so i know i've said from the beginning how i would never write smut... well, something snapped and things happened so here we are 🤡 huge shoutout to my loves @sungbeam & @juyeonszn for proofreading this & reassuring me that it's okay ily both 😭🩵 this is my very first smut, so pls bear with me ><

update!! i've moved my nsfw works to @midnightfantasiez so do drop by and read my other works & say hi 🥰

The pouring rain that was hitting the train windows was making you ten times worse than you already were. 

It has been such a hectic few weeks for you at the office, but today was the worst of them all. Apparently, your director has been disregarding their employees' well-being and instead kept giving every single one of you more workload than you could’ve possibly endured. They have also made it clear that there will be no exception for losing the deadlines as they are now finally trying their awful best to fix up the company’s image before their subsidiary arrives in Seoul in the coming weeks for a visit. 

Hence, you have been working way overtime each day at the office, and by the time you have gotten home, it was already late enough to the point that most times, you would immediately crash onto your bed and skip dinner. 

Even spending less time with your boyfriend, Sangyeon.

You both have been in a relationship for two years and recently moved in together at the start of the year as Sangyeon managed to transfer to another branch much closer to where you lived. You were thrilled, to say the least, because that would save you plenty of time to take the one-hour bus ride to the city he used to work in back then. 

Ever since moving in with Sangyeon, he has been absolutely the best towards you. He noticed how your hours were much more tedious than he was, and he offered to cook dinner for most of the days while you were in charge of making the lunch boxes for you both since he would be home first than you most of the time. He was also already in his seventh year working for his company, so as one of the higher-ups, his timing was much more flexible, and he basically worked from home at least three times a week. 

Sangyeon has definitely noticed the change in you. Every time he brings it up, you have decided to turn him down instead, saying how you would rather not talk about it and move on to other much more pleasant topics that you both loved—music, films, and some random cafes that you both found on social media where you both would like to pay a visit on your next weekend date. 

And he respected your decision. Even during your weekly Sunday dates with one another, only a little about work would be mentioned, and you both would have the best days with one another, walking hand-in-hand through the streets while munching on your favourite bubble waffles topped off with ice cream. 

But it seemed as if something had snapped within you today. Your emotions were all over the place, and you just couldn’t wait to get back home and dive into his embrace. 

I just want some cuddles and comfort for the love of God.

“Hey, babe! Welcome home!” 

Sangyeon immediately popped his head out from the kitchen and peered through the door when he heard you unlocking the door open. He quickly approached you while turning the stove off and took your bags into his hands instead. 

“How’s my baby today?” He gave you the biggest smile that you have always loved. His radiant smile would always melt away all your negativity and make you feel much better. 

What he did not expect today was that you immediately dived into his embrace, with tears you have been desperately holding back for the entire day streaming down your face. 

He was pretty taken aback for sure, for the only time you would ever do this was when you two were both cuddling watching a sad film or when you finally got promoted at your job a year prior. Given your demeanour, he knew that something was wrong. 

“Baby… it’s ok. You know you can let it all out, right? You don’t have to hold them back no more.” He cooed while wrapping his arms around you, rubbing your back to calm you down. 

“Sangyeon… I… Why is it just so hard to be happy with my work?” You sniffed, trying your best to talk through your tears. 

“I’ve joined the company because I admired their work ethic and environment. Why is it so different from what I have imagined? Why do fame and money bring out the ugliest in people? Why do they have zero empathy towards our employees who work so hard for them?” 

You were a crying mess, and you just couldn’t stop blabbing out the most profound thoughts you have had for several weeks. You were the type to bottle up your emotions, and you would instead take them to the grave and figure them out yourself. You knew it was your bad trait, which led to you not giving yourself enough time and care towards your physical and mental well-being. And the last thing you want to do is trouble your sweetheart, who has done so much for you. 

But tonight, you have decided that enough was enough, and you couldn’t care less if you finally showed your boyfriend your weakest moment because you just did not have the strength to keep it up anymore. 

When your breathing stabilised, Sangyeon finally cups your face to lift it and look straight into his eyes. “Baby, I’m so sorry you had to go through the shittiest management and deal with their nasty jobs. I may be unable to loosen your workload, but I can surely take care of you if that’s what you want.” 

“But you always take care of me, Sangyeon.” You sniffed.

“I know. But, maybe tonight I could give you some special treatment.” 

You giggled and wiped your tears away. “Okay, and what is this special treatment? Will you give me a spa day?”

It was there, and then you noticed how your boyfriend’s eyes had somewhat slightly darkened, and he was now eyeing both your lips and neck. He then gently drops your belongings onto one of the chairs nearby, and his hands now find their way to pull down the turtleneck top you were wearing.  

“Something much better than a spa day.” 

The next thing that happens, he crashes his lips onto yours, savouring them like there’s no tomorrow. This was different, much more different than what you were used to. Sure, you both have had plenty of kisses with one another, even having slow and sensual ones where you would have each other’s tongues in your mouth. But this was different. It seemed a lot more hasty and perhaps accompanied by lust. 

The soft and sweet Sangyeon you have been accustomed to was gone. Instead, he looked like a beast, thirsty and hungry, as if he had not been fed for a while. 

From the back of your mind, you knew you had to stop and question what turned him on. But with the way his tongue wrapped around yours and he was leaving no room for you to catch your breath, it was impossible for you to think straight at the moment. 

His hands now travel down to your hips, and he eventually forces you to jump and wrap your legs around him as he lays you on the countertop. That was when one of his hands slowly reached down, massaged one of your thighs, and eventually moved to your underwear. 

You gasped and were about to stop him, but he beat you to it. He rubbed your clit, all puffy and pink and sensitive, turning him on even more than before. 

“Baby, just trust me,” he cooed and proceeded to pick up his speed. At the same time, he breaks off the kiss and moves his lips down to your neck, sucking your bare skin. Your moans were getting out of control, each getting louder as his fingers worked their way around your tight opening. When you were finally relaxed enough to his liking, he inserted two fingers into you, earning a loud gasp as you tilted your head back. His fingers plunged in and out of you, his pace increasing. 

You couldn’t think straight. How could you? When your boyfriend is literally fingering you while sucking your neck at the same time. It felt so wrong, yet it felt so good at the moment. 

“S-sangyeon… please…”

“Tell me what you want baby.” 

“I... I want you… down there…” 

Immediately, he smirked and pulled his fingers out as he positioned himself right between your thighs. “I never knew you had this within you, baby. And I’m loving it a whole lot.” 

Sangyeon brings himself towards your clit, licking and kissing while inserting his fingers back into your hole. It did not take him long to insert his tongue into your opening. 

Dear God, you were in heaven. 

“M-more.. Sangyeon… don’t stop.. aaah–” 

As he quicked his pace, and so did your breathing and moans. It wasn’t for long when you finally came, and Sangyeon did his best trying to savour all of your juices. He then lifts his head back up to look at you while diving his lips back onto yours for you to savour the taste of your own cum.

“Baby, you taste so good. How about a round two?”

One thing led to another, and now you were lying naked on your bed. You have been with Sangyeon for two years and have never been naked in front of your boyfriend. And it was also your first time to see how glorious his body proportions were and how refined his muscles and abs were. 

He slowly climbs onto you and lays his hands on your bare skin. You shivered at the contact, you never knew your boyfriend would be so skilled with those glorious hands of his, touching and massaging every bit and corner of your body. He eventually finds their way to your breasts, which you have covered up by wrapping your arms around you. He slowly takes them apart to reveal your bare breasts to him.

“Why would you cover these up? You look so goddamn beautiful to me right now.” 

His lips dove to your right while his hands massaged your left. He circled around your hardened nipples while giving them a little suck every few rounds. You did not know how much your body would react to such a simple action of his, your toes curling and arching at the stimulation. It turned you on so much, and you dug your fingers into his soft brown hair to push him down to suck on them more. 

His free hand now travels back down onto your clit, rubbing it slowly once again to keep you nice and loose. 

“Baby... do you trust me?” 

That was when you opened your eyes and clearly noticed his big bulge poking throughout his boxers, eager to make its way into you. God, you were about to lose your virginity now for real. 

“I... I don’t know, Sangyeon. I’m scared.” 

“Don’t be. I’ll be gentle. And I made you a promise that I will take care of you.” he murmured while giving a gentle squeeze to your hips. 

With that, you slowly nodded before Sangyeon eventually pulled his boxers down, revealing his hardened cock. He slowly lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing your core to capture all your wetness. 

He peered up at you. “Babe. Are you ready?” 

Blinking, you had to take a moment to suck in a massive breath before nodding your head. In one swift movement, he pushes his member into your tight walls, earning a loud whimper from you. Your body quivered at the contact, and your boyfriend came down to you, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll give you a few moments to adjust. Hmm?” Even while you both were doing the deed, he was still considerate and ensured you felt comfortable and safe above anything else. 

As you tried calming your breathing down again, you finally gave him a nod, meaning he could proceed. He started slow, dragging his member in and out of your pussy for you to get used to it, all while showering you with plenty of kisses on your lips and around your face. 

When your whimpers slowly turn into soft moans, you let him know that he could pick up the pace. The pain that once bothered you was now long gone and was replaced with pleasure. Your fingers in his hair slid down to his bare back, and you couldn’t help but slightly dig your nails into his skin, which turned him on more. 

“S-sangyeon… faster…” you begged him; you were desperately trying to reach that high.

“Are you sure—you can handle it—baby?” He asked in between his groans. 

“Y-yes.. I want… more…” You replied weakly. 

Your wish was his command, and both of your moans now filled your room and the entire apartment. 

“I-I’m.. cumming.. Sangyeon..”

“Me too, babe—where—do you want me—”

“In..inside... please!” 

Immediately, after a few more thrusts, both of you came together. Sangyeon then leans down and buries his face in the crook of your neck, both of you trying your best to catch your breath. When you both finally came down on your high, your boyfriend broke off the silence. 

“So, did I somewhat manage to care for you today, princess?” 

You turned your head to lock your eyes with him before planting a soft peck on his lips. 

“You have done more than care for me, my prince.”

A/N: i will pretend that i did not write this at all goodbye—

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @k-films @flwoie @hokupi @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics @sulkygyu @jaerisdiction

[tidbit-fanfic]

A/N: WOW did this take forever. Did you think I’d honestly leave Forever & Always as it was? Here’s your fix-it-fic, part two to Forever & Always, but of course you don’t have to read this if you don’t want to fix things. That’s fine.

TW: 18+ Smut, protected sex (wrap your willy silly), car sex, blood, cannon level violence, angsty angst, the l-word, Micheal, mention of castration, spanking, makeup/angry sex?, fluffy fluff

No one ever said breakups were easy. Months passed before I could even look Dean in the eye again, and more passed until we returned to how we were before the relationship had ever happened. We formed a close bond and worked together on case after case. I accompanied Castiel and Kelly when the Winchesters were arrested, and I became a major support during Kelly’s pregnancy, within the limits set by Cas. When they busted out to raise more hell? I was there to help clean up after them. 

Things became rocky when Dean began lashing out towards Jack. I slammed my fist into his jaw one time. I don’t regret it, and I don’t think I ever will. He left in a huff after, ignoring me, as Sam and I tried to make sense of everything. A whirlwind of catastrophic events later, Dean stepped forward, doing the one thing he promised he never would: let Micheal in. 

“Anyone find anything?” 

“Sam, we’ve been searching for weeks, and every time you ask that question, what’s the answer?”

The younger Winchester pushes his hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving his lungs. “Just hoping for something.”

“I know. You miss him, but we’re working overtime to scrounge up anything on him. Have you even slept in the past twenty-four hours?” I stand from the rickety chair I’d been sitting in for the past hour, looking into Sam’s eyes. His face quickly switched to one of guilt, a shy, school-boyish look taking over his features. My hands found their place on my hips, taking on a motherly stance. “Go. Sleep. Now.”

“But—”

“Now, Samuel.” He runs off to his room to get some sleep, hopefully. I turn back to my small team of five people. They all shake their heads, a couple returning their eyes to the screen sitting before them. With no sign of Dean, Sam and Mary have become overly stressed, constantly checking in on any form of a lead. Meanwhile, Jack and Cas are out doing their own little thing, leaving me to manage this small team, checking sources daily. Micheal must be covering his tracks extremely well because our facial scanners have reported back nothing about Dean, or any unnatural glitching. 

I walk my way into the kitchen, searching for a distraction. These past few weeks, I organized and reorganized the kitchen at least three times. It’s become my solitude after losing Dean yet again. I pulled out some ingredients and began cooking dinner for everyone in the bunker, hoping that by keeping my hands busy, I could distract my mind. 

“So, you’re going to follow this lead alone?” I cross my arms, narrowed eyes sizing up the Winchester standing in front of me, resulting in Sam shaking his head.

“I’m meeting up with mom and Bobby on the way.”

“Fine,” I say, pushing off of the table, watching as he goes to turn. “And Sam?”

“Yes?”

“Bring him back.”

Sam looks at me, a hint of remorse playing in his eyes. He goes to open his mouth before I wave him off, making my way to Jack’s room. I raise my hand and knock, waiting for Jack’s response. The door creaks as I open it, revealing the young male who has been living with us for some time. 

“Hey, buddy. How’s it going?”

“I mean, better now. Cas is finally beginning to see that I can help on hunts.”

I nod, sitting at the foot of his bed. “Did Sam tell you…”

“He did.” 

“Oh,” I state, racking my brain for ways to keep the conversation flowing when the blonde pipes up.

“You still care for him. Don’t you?”

My eyes snap up to Jack’s. “Jack. It’s difficult.”

“It’s not though. You should tell him when he’s back.”

“I can’t do that, he’s…it's…complicated.”

The male tilts his head, eyes searching my face for an explanation. I sigh, “I, well, he was the one who messed up, and I just took it. I accepted he didn’t like me enough to work through it. Then I fell apart, Jack, and I can’t live through that again.” 

“Is that truly how you feel?”

“There is no other way. We can’t, he can’t change what he did. I can’t forgive him for making me a second choice.”

Jack reached forward, resting a hand on mine, the other to wipe away the tears that fell. “But you still love him.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “But I can’t have him.”

“Y/N, I know I may not have been on this earth for long, but I’ve seen enough to say this: if you love him, give Dean a second chance. You never know how things might go this time around.”

I stand, wiping my face. “No Jack, I can’t” 

I leave his room, returning to the main part of the bunker, not before grabbing a glass of alcohol to numb the pain. I join the research team in the library, sitting in one of the few comfy chairs while Jack’s words echo through my head. “Give him a second chance. You never know how things might go this time around.”

 Heavy footsteps resonate through the bunker, Cas re-entering from Jack’s room, a look of shock crossing his features. “Dean?”

I watch as Cas wraps Dean into a hug, setting my glass on a nearby table as Dean’s voice rings out. “Hey, Cas.”

One of the few extra hunters walks up to Sam, running him through the information we collected since his departure. Meanwhile, Dean looks around at all the new bodies occupying the bunker. I turn my head away, beginning to make my way towards my room to avoid interaction with him, but it seems as if fate has other plans, with one of my subordinates stepping into my field of vision. “Cap? We have a couple of updates on that nest you asked about?”

“Show me what you have.” I look down at the tablet, littered with pins displaying the nest’s pattern of migration. I listen as they explain the situation, ignoring the presence creeping in from behind me. 

“Okay, send out a small group, maybe five? Check in with Sam to get it approved and run a couple of facial scans to ensure that they are where you’re predicting. Good work.”

“On it Captain.” 

“Captain? That’s an interesting nickname.” Jumping at the rough voice, I turn to meet a pair of forest green eyes I used to call home. I look him up and down, taking in the state of him, and maybe, just maybe, appreciating the archangel’s fashion taste, paired with Dean’s attempt at making it comfortable. As I meet his eyes, I can't help but force a smile, refusing to reveal my emotions.

“Dean! It’s so great to see you in one piece. Sam had us searching everywhere for you.”

“Sam did? It wasn’t you?” 

“He was driving himself sick.”

He nods, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Look, Y/N, I know we—”

“Captain?” Another voice cuts through his sentence, and I turn to see Charlie holding out a tablet, nodding to Dean before redirecting her attention to me. 

“The reports you wanted just came back. Our predictions were right. Ketch’s team is nearby, just a couple of miles down the way. We’re sending them the info on the nest right now.” 

“Thank you, Charlie. And it’s really great to see you back, Dean. Especially in one piece.” I turn, heading back to my room, this time without interruptions. I close the door behind me, sliding down against it before rubbing my temples. Breakups aren’t easy, and living in the same space as your ex just makes it worse. 

The next morning, I’m up before everyone else, starting coffee and breakfast for the bunker. A sweaty Sam enters the kitchen, grabs a glass of water, and then presumably leaves to take a shower before the hustle of the bunker begins. I relax into the routine I’ve put myself into since Dean left, mundane tasks I easily get lost in. Breakfast is finished before I return to my room, a notification lighting up my phone’s screen from Sam. I flip my phone over, opting for a couple more hours of sleep before dealing with him. 

The sound of knocking wakes me up, as my door moves slightly with the action. I open it, coming face-to-face with Sam. Taking a step back, I rush to smooth down my hair while Sam lets out a low whistle. “And I thought my bedhead was bad.”

I throw a middle finger at him, glaring as he chuckles. “What do you want?”

“Just got a case in.” He walks in, taking a seat at my desk, opening his laptop to reveal a newspaper article. Man Reported Missing By Girlfriend: Claims A Giant Woman-Bird Took Him. 

“Are we sure she’s not just crazy?”

“Yes, multiple police reports of missing men in the area have a claim of ‘giant woman-birds’ taking them. Seems like an us problem.”

I look over his shoulder at the reports, showing drawn portraits of the attackers. “Jesus, those look like harpies. Tricky little buggers, but should be a ‌simple case. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be ready.”

“Good, see you then.”

Ten minutes later, I cross the threshold to the garage, eyes scanning it for the younger Winchester. The passenger side window of the Impala rolls down, revealing Dean, sitting in the driver’s seat. “C’mon, we don’t have all day. If Sam’s right about the feeding patterns, they’re gonna strike again tonight.” 

I look over my shoulder to the door of the garage. “Speaking of Sam, where is he? I thought it was just going to be us on this hunt?”

“Nope. Just me and you, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” I open the door, tossing my bag into the backseat before climbing in, staying as far away from Dean as possible. He grumbles something under his breath, throwing Baby into drive and leaving the bunker. This was going to be a long hunt. 

Blood hit my face as my knife sliced through a harpy’s wing. The creature let out a screech before turning to me, its teeth elongating as it prepared to attack. I raised an arm to push back when a gunshot rang through the air. She fell to the ground, revealing a blood-covered Dean standing behind her. I dropped my arm, huffing and kicking at the dead body of the woman. We had destroyed the nest,and all the harpies within it, leaving only one last step before we could head to a hotel and get cleaned up. I looked at Dean, whose eyes remained locked on me with worry. “You ready to burn these bitches?”

A smirk broke out on his face. “You know it.”

I giggled beneath my breath, grabbing a container of gasoline before returning to the building. I poured it on top of the bodies, as well as the makeshift nests, before returning to Baby. Dean pulled a zippo from his pocket, striking it before throwing it into the door. We both leaned back onto the vehicle, watching as the building went up in flames, the adrenaline slowly beginning to leave our systems. 

I turn, looking at the man beside me. While checking him over for any wounds, noticing his shoulder bleeding. Claw marks from where the harpy attempted to take him. I reach out, pulling the torn fabric from the wound for a closer look. “Crap, Dean, this looks like it hurts.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He shrugs, tensing as my hands work over his wound. “First aid is in the backseat.”

I nod, going to get it, ready to be done with the hunt. “Alcohol incoming.”

After I ensure he won't get an infection, I thread a fishing line into place, starting the first stitch, causing a hiss to rip from his mouth. Stitch after stitch, I tend to the injury, patching over it with some hydrocolloid bandages before stepping back. 

My eyes flutter open, revealing unfamiliar scenery. Dean looks up from his phone. “All good. Just taking a pit stop. Showers are over there.”

“I thought we were going to a motel?” I rub my eyes, reaching over the seat for my bag. 

“I thought it’d be pretty stupid, considering we’re only five hours from home. I was just gonna clean up and nap a bit before finishing the drive.”

I nod leaving the Impala and making my way to the shower building, clutching my pocket knife in my right hand as a safety precaution. I knew Dean had parked in an area where he could see the entrance, but it never hurt to be a little extra cautious. I entered the station, locking myself into one stall and starting the shower. Peeling my crusty clothes from off, I rinsed them in the water, hoping to remove some of the blood. I climbed into the shower, scrubbing away the gore painted on my body. My mind wandered to our situation. 

I had slept in the Impala with Dean many times, mostly when the motel was out of vacancies, leaving us to find a station similar to this. Sam would stretch out in the backseat while I cuddled up to Dean, safe in his arms. Back when I trusted him with my life. Now, I can’t trust him as far as I could throw him. ‘Give him a second chance.’ If only it were that easy.

I return to the Impala, devoid of monster blood. Dean’s head was lolled back, resting against the seat. I knocked on the window before opening my door, ensuring he wouldn’t shoot me. He opened his eyes, a strained smile covering his features when he saw me. I climbed in and curled up against the door, hoping to catch a little more sleep. Minutes passed before his deep timbre echoed through the car. “I know you’re still up.”

“Not the point Dean. I’m trying to sleep, what you should be doing.”

“I can’t.”

I opened my eyes, turning to him. “Why not?”

“It’s,” he swallowed. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“No, it’s not nothing. What’s wrong?”

He scrubbed his hand down his face, looking out his window. “Micheal fucked with my head.”

“I thought you couldn’t remember anything?”

“I lied somewhat. He was awful Y/N. Showing me the things he would do if I didn’t obey. I—I can’t get the images out of my head.” His voice became tight with emotion.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. He’s gone now.” 

“That’s not the point. Micheal threatened Sam, mom, Cas, Jack, but the worst? He threatened you. God, Y/N, if you saw half of what he was going to do to you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me.”

“Dean. He’s gone. We’ll find him, kill him and you’ll be fine.”

“Damn it Y/N, you don’t get it do you?”

“I don’t get what?”

“I love you! That’s why he threatened you.” I look into his forest-green eyes, studying the pain and anguish hidden behind them. 

“You don’t get to say that.”

“And why not?” 

I rest my back against the door, as far from him as possible. “You dumped me, remember? For a one-month-old? Not to mention how much of an asshole you were during the whole Amara situation.”

“I’m—”

“No Dean. You hurt me. You showed me just how little you care about me. You wouldn’t have even thought about her twice if you actually loved me. When Micheal convinced you to say yes, and you disappeared, I knew there was no fixing this. One day you're gonna find someone else and leave me just like you did the first time. I can’t go through that again. It would kill me.” I look at him, tears threatening to break through. “I love you. But I can’t do this to myself again”

“I won’t do it again, baby. Forever & al—”

“No!” My sob catches in my throat as I hug myself. “Forever doesn’t exist. Always means occasionally to you Dean.”

“Baby—”

“Stop.” I close my eyes, the pain slowly turning into anger. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Silence envelopes the space between us, leaving an awkward feeling between us.  

A sigh echoes from him, his hand running through his hair. “I know I fucked up. The Mark made me an absolute asshole, and I knew you deserved better. I tried real hard to bottle up those emotions I had for Amara, knowing they were only because of some weird mark-magic shit. After the whole demon ordeal, I knew you deserved better, so I quit trying. I had to hurt you to get you to leave me. I couldn’t run the risk of hurting you again.”

“Dean, that's not your discussion to make.”

“Isn’t it? I’m the one who was going to hurt you. It was me who took the Mark.”

“You don’t think I would’ve done the same to save the world? You’re really fucking dense if you can’t see I would’ve done the exact same thing. The only difference between you and me? I wouldn't have pushed you away for some random creature. Especially a baby!”

“Damnit Y/N. You don’t get it.”

“Then help me understand.” 

His eyes flicker from mine to my lips. “I love you so goddamn much, that hurting you would be hell all over again. And this time, not even Chuck could pull me out.”

My breath caught in my chest. “You don’t mean that.”

“Evey fucking word.”

I look out the window, mulling over his words. “Dean. I—”

“Fuck it.” Dean undoes his seatbelt, grabbing my jaw and forcing his lips to mine. Gasping, I open for his tongue, our saliva mixing into an intoxicating elixir. I throw my arms over his shoulders, pulling on the hairs at the nape of his neck. He pulls back exposing his neck, as I kiss along his jawline. I nip and suck beautiful bruises into his skin, pulling at the neckline of his shirt to reveal more of his skin. His hands go to grip my ass, pulling me over to straddle him. I lean back, making contact with his lust-darkened eyes and swollen lips. My hips grind down, a familiar ache developing in my lower stomach. Dean bites his lip, watching my hips as I rock against the zipper of his jeans, his erection pulling the fabric taut. I bring my lips to his again, small pecks while his hand rests around my throat,wringing a whine from me. “Princess, get your ass to the backseat now.”

I climbed into the back of the Impala, Dean following right on my tail, grinding his clothed cock against my ass as the door shut behind us. I went to turn around, stopped only by the sting of his hand meeting the meat of my ass. “Nuh uh, pretty girl, hands and knees.” 

“Asshole.” A crack rings through the air, his hand meeting my butt once again. 

“What was that again? Couldn't hear it over your bratty attitude.”

I lean my head on my arms, biting my lip to keep from saying anything else. Dean played with the waistband of my leggings, pulling the band just to let it snap against my skin. I push back into him, needing him urgently. Finally, he pulls my leggings and panties down, leaving them tangled up in my knees. Hands trace up my thighs, thumbs spreading my lower lips apart. “Jesus. Why’d I give this up? Such a pretty pussy, just begging for attention” 

“Don’t tease.”

“‘M not baby, just enjoying the view.” He trails his fingers through my folds, fingertips catching on my clit with each drag. Returning to my entrance, he slips his ring finger into me, curling it upward before he adds another. Suddenly, he pulls away, the sounds of his belt being undone sending a rush of anticipation through me. Dean slides his cock along my cunt, coating himself in the wetness fund there. “Wait, wait.”

“What’s wrong?” He leans back, removing his hands from my body. 

“Condom?” 

“Right, right, shit.” Dean climbs over the seat, popping open the glove box to get the needed protection. His jeans and boxers sit on his thighs, cock bobbing as he rolls the condom over it. “Good?”

“Good. Now get in here, cowboy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He breaches my entrance, pushing into my heat, causing a whimper to leave my lips, shaped into his name. The cool metal of his belt buckle presses against the back of my thigh when he bottoms out, his groan vibrating against my back. “Dean, move.”

He tucks his head into my shoulder, a deep groan releasing from his chest. “Sweetheart, if I move, I’m gonna cum like a goddamn pre-teen. Give me a second.”

Rocking my hips back onto him, I earn myself another breathy moan. “Please, Dean?”

“Shit. You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.” He pulls back, my pussy encouraging him to return home. His hips snap to mine, balls tapping at my clit. I arch my back, panting as I meet each of his thrusts. He sits back, hands finding their place on my hips, dragging me back. “Look at you, such a perfect slut for me, aren’t ya? All for me.”

I moan as his hips speed up, the tip hitting the spongy spot inside me. Dean lands another slap on my ass, leaning forward to kiss the place under my ear. “You’re dripping, soaking my cock so well. And you said you didn’t miss this.”

He grinds into me, the icy feeling of the buckle pressing deep into the heat of my thigh. Baby’s windows fog up, our breaths intertwining in ecstasy as he speeds up, going harder, faster, deeper. Dean’s hand slides up my back, knotting into my hair, pulling me up to my knees, without slowing down. “God baby, your pussy is the closest thing to heaven I’ve ever felt. Fuck. Such a good girl for, shit, for me.” 

  I clench around his cock, my orgasm within reach. “Dean, I, I need—”

“I know, princess, I know.” His other hand wraps around the front of my waist, slipping between my folds as he finds my clit, circling it with the right amount of pressure. My head falls onto his shoulder, shameless moans exchanged between us as my climax comes closer and closer. “Dean.”

“C’mon babydoll, cum fr’me.” With that, I reach the heavens, Dean following close behind with a couple of thrusts before he spills into the condom. We lay there, breaths intermingling as he tucks his head into my neck again, pressing soft kisses to the skin there. I pull him away, looking into those enchanting green eyes of his. 

“Fuck you, Dean Winchester.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to my lips. “You just did, sweetheart.”

After cleaning up, again, I curl up on his chest in the back seat, satisfied and secure, as Dean traces patterns along my back, his breath evening out. 

“Dean.” He hums. “I meant what I said earlier. I truly love you.”

“I love you too sweet—”

“But if you break my heart this time, I will cut off your dick.”

“Fair. Now can you go to sleep? I fuckin’ exhausted.”

I giggle at his wording, snuggling into his chest again. Breakups are hard, but when you’re hopelessly in love, it’s hard to remember the pain. Unfortunately, I fell in love with Dean Winchester, and by fate’s design, he fell in love with me. 

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

First wip of the year.

Thank you so much for the tag @joelmillerisapunk , @thundermartini , @aurorawritestoescape , @milla-frenchy ❤️

I didn't have a damn thing last night but today I wrote something new, I'm just starting out and I don't know how long it will take me but it's an idea I've had for a long time.

There is a proverb in Italian that more or less says that if you do something on the first day of the year you will do it all year round, given a choice I would have decided to fuck Joel Miller but since that's not possible we settle for writing lol

My beloved Neighbor!Frankie and his girlfriend (that's you) will be back in a while ;)

You and Frankie have been together for four months now. Your neighbor, the man you spent a year hating revealed himself as the best man you’ve ever been in a relationship with.  You haven't said “I love you” to each other yet, you're taking it slow and you're perfectly fine with that, you know you have strong feelings for him but you don't know if he's ready to say it and the last thing you want is to ruin the best relationship you've had because of words said too soon.  So you respect his timing without forcing his hand. All you really want is to keep being with him, the man who can make you laugh in a second, with whom you like to do everything from the most mundane things like grocery shopping and running errands, to talking for hours and sharing with him, cooking, going to parties and concerts, even bickering. And sex. Ah, Frankie is a fucking magician.  The most shockingly fiery and at the same time sweet man you've ever had.  You feel you can be yourself at all times with him, he knows your flaws and frailties and accepts them. And from where you were starting out it already feels like a considerable accomplishment, you never thought that the guy who used to spend all the time judging you, once you penetrated his armor, was such a tolerant and nonjudgmental person. You haven't moved in together, but you sleep together almost every night, and yet, you are still trying to navigate your relationship without running the other one off before taking the next step. So when Frankie tells you that his mother would love to meet you, you get a little scared but you try to put on a good face. "You really don't mind?" he prods you.  You can never hide anything from him; Frankie has an ability to read from within you that you had never found in a man.  His eyes scan you and he has a cunning little smile as he sits on the other side of the table eating the eggs you prepared for him.  “Yeah, sure, don't worry, it's okay,” you nod, a little too forcibly, and Frankie knows it.  “You're nervous, huh? Look, it's normal” he tries to reassure you, his hand slides across the table until it meets yours. He squeezes it gently and then intertwines his fingers with yours.  “I'm sorry, she's been insisting for at least a month, I've managed to keep her at bay until now but she grilled me yesterday and decided that she's expecting us for dinner on Friday.” “Yeah...I just feel a little pressure, you know, but it's okay.” You admit. “Babe, she will like you very much, I'm sure.” You look into his eyes, those big eyes the color of coffee and chocolate, and that comfortable glow they give off immediately takes away part of the weight you feel on your chest.  “Are you sure?” you murmur. “Of course!” he smiles at you, ”Well, you're a little sassy but...” You slap his hand “Frankie! You're not helping me!” you complain.  “Come on, I'm kidding. She’s going to adore you, I have no doubt about it” he chuckles. “Mmmm we’ll see” you still mumble unsure. "Come here," he says softly.  You get up and walk over to him who welcomes you on his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and he rests his forehead on yours looking into your eyes softly "she will adore you" he repeats "at least as much as I do.” The thing is this with him, he's been using synonyms for weeks, so you're pretty sure he's going to tell you the three big words sooner or later. "What if she doesn't like me?" you ask him and bite your lip, looking at him expectantly. “Uh, I don't want to stop fucking you, you know... so, you'll have to remain a clandestine relationship while I'm dating a woman personally chosen by my mom.” He jokes. You kiss him, muttering “god, you're so...”  He giggles and asks "how am I?" tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you closer to his chest, your tits pressed against him.  “an incredibly lovely fucking bastard.”

[m-writesstuff]

undercover - aaron hotchner

chapter 2

i don’t think i’ve ever blushed harder in my life than in this moment right now.

what the fuck?!

aaron’s attention is on the road which gives me time to fix my shocked expression. it’s not like i’d never had sex before, but the idea of pretending to do it with aaron fucking hotchner made me feel… nervous…or something else.

“jane?” he asks as we pull into the driveway, “you can say no.”

i look at him, he seems concerned, “you think it’ll help further the case?”

“i thought about your theory, you know, how he’s obsessed with the women, right? he’s been stalking us for three weeks, he never watched the other couples for that long. i think it’s because he saw them try and, maybe got jealous or felt cheated on and he goes out in a rage and kills them.” he’s got this passionate look on his face, cute, “just think,” he grabs my shoulder and a warm feeling rushes through me, but quickly takes his hand away. “sorry i-”

“it’s ok.” i smile at him.

aaron smiles back, “you’re ok with this?”

“i just… well, what does ‘this’ entail.” i ask.

he takes a breath, “we fake it.”

“oh, yeah, that makes so much sense aaron, thanks.” i say while rolling my eyes.

he laughs, “you’ll see.”

oh. 

that makes me nervous.

i’m quick to change the subject, “you hungry?”

“very.” he responds, opening the car door.

i follow him inside and head straight to the kitchen, grabbing a pan from the cupboard, mindlessly. suddenly, i feel a hand on mine.

i turn to see aaron pulling the pan from my hand. “i got it.” he says

honestly, i don't even argue. if he wants to cook then so be it. 

while he does that, i set the table and the head to the living room to read. 25 minutes later aaron leans against the archway into the living room, watching me. he looks good, still in his suit, tie hanging loosely from his neck. 

“hi.” i say sheepishly, i feel vulnerable under his intense gaze. 

“dinner’s ready,” he pauses, “... honey.”

i let out a small laugh, “thanks.”

we sit at the table, eating quietly, it’s awkward knowing what we have to do tonight. i avoid the small talk aaron attempts to make, nerves fluttering in my stomach. we do the dishes together, i wash, he dries. once we’re done, the clock reads 6:30.

as i head to the bathroom to shower i hear aaron speak. “jane, you can back out you know.”

“i wanna catch this guy as much as you do aaron, im not backing out.” i say firmly. 

he looks at me weirdly, “alright. don’t take long though, i want to shower too.”

seems like we’re both on the same page about not wanting to stink as we pretend. 

i try to shower quickly but my nerves get the best of me and i end up sitting under the hot water. it soothes me in a sense. i fall into a trance of sorts feeling every droplet slide down my back. 

i hear a knock and quickly turn off the tap. i’ve been in there for a while. two minutes later i open the door and end up face to face with aaron, holding a bundle of clothes, while i’m only wearing a towel.

“hi.” i say staring at him as he looks only at my eyes.

he backs up, looking flustered, “sorry.”

i’m not exactly sure what compelled me to do it, but i put my hand on his clothed chest and smile my sweetest smile, “all good, honey.” i tease, catching a look of surprise, and maybe something else, on his face.

before he can say something i head to the bedroom to change. quickly, i slip into my nicest pair of pyjamas, a silky blue top and matching shorts. soon enough, i find my nerves building up again and decide to read in effort to calm them, but it’s impossible. i turn to my nightstand, 7:27 reads the clock. i look towards the big window facing the road and sure enough, there’s the man of the hour, james fucking hader, in his stupid white van.

i hear the door creak open and there stands aaron, only in his plaid pyjama pants.

oh.

truth be told, i had had a slight crush on aaron since i started working with him. but this, this i could have never imagined. it’s so very domestic, i love it.

i can feel how red my face is. “he’s here.”

“shit, ok.” he starts moving to stand near the window, “c’mere.”

my whole body feels warm as i rise from the bed and walk towards him.  

he pulls me toward him and leans his mouth to my ear, “we can stop whenever, just say the word.” 

i nod and he begins kissing my neck, sucking on it slightly. i practically melt at his touch. jesus christ. he moves up, now kissing my jawline, my cheek and finally my lips.

i’ve been told i'm a good kisser but i could never beat aaron. i’ve never kissed anyone as good as him. it’s like he knows exactly what to do to make my body feel like it’s a pile of mush. 

after a while i pull away and grab his hand directing him toward the bed. he sits down and i pause mentally debating what to do. do i sit on him? keep kissing him? what do i-

he grabs my hips and pulls me onto him. i straddle him with my knees on the bed so i don't actually sit on him. seconds later he pushes my hips down so im fully sitting on him. this feels so wrong, but yet so right. i look at him feeling desperate, but trying to remind myself that this is pretend. 

aaron grabs my face gently and begins kissing me so passionately i could’ve sworn it was real. i basically melt at his touch.

pretend. this is just pretend. i remind myself

he quickly notices that i’m not reciprocating and pulls back, “you ok?” he says while stroking my arm.

i freeze up, he’s so gentle, so kind, so perfect. i need him badly.

“let’s stop.” he says after a moment.

i’m brought back to reality from those words. shit, “oh, ok.”

i stand up and go to close the curtains. “maybe he’ll think we did it once they were closed.” i say.

“maybe.” he sounds weird. i hear him leave the room.

what the fuck just happened?______________________________________________________________

notes: hi :) thanks for the love on my last post <3. not exactly sure how to feel about my writing in this chapter, but oh well. hope you enjoy :).

[typicalopposite]

Soooooo this story has been kicking my BUTT mainly this first chapter and the build up to the actual story 👀 but i finally finished so does manyone wanna read chapter one of angsty break up/helicopter crash fic?

PLZ READ TAGS FOR TRIGGER WARNINGS

𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚃𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝚘 𝙵𝚕𝚢 (𝙸 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕)

BuckTommy Fic | M | Chapter 1/? | 6713 words

Link to Prologue | ao3

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎: 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙… 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜

In all of Buck’s thirty three years there has never been another time that he recalls feeling so secure and at peace with his life. So at ease with not just himself, but with the happenings around him. Which is saying a lot given everything going on around him.

Gerard makes work miserable with his constant passive aggressiveness, and his snide comments… Buck knew to expect racism and sexism. He also knew to prepare himself for the blatant homophobia. It still wasn’t enough to prepare him for the first time Gerrard called him princess.

They have all filed complaint after complaint. Bobby is working tirelessly with the fire chief (whose head was gone over in bringing Gerrard back to the 118) to get him reinstated and back home. The team is rallying around each other to lessen the blows made at each of them by the person who is supposed to lead them, but only cares to bully and berate them.

But… at the end of his shift, Buck has Tommy to run home to. Not that they are actually living together— they do spend almost every night they have off together, though. He is the light at the end of a long dark tunnel. The calm after Buck’s 12, 24, or 48 hour storm. He is the breath of fresh air after inhaling far too much smoke. He is… just perfect.

Buck can’t believe how happy he is, how in love he is. The true meaning of happiness? Well Buck thinks it might just be tucked away safe in that soft loving smile Tommy is always giving him. Buck sees their whole lives flash before his eyes when he’s gifted that smile. Years and years, and years of living with this happiness? He definitely could get used to that. He is so lucky.

Or so he thought….

Their shift is (finally) almost over. Buck is laid out on the couch, staring at his phone. He isn’t even aware he’s smiling at his text thread with Tommy until Chimney comes up and knocks his feet off so he can sit down. “There’s only one person I know that could have Buckaroo smiling like that,” he says, his own cheesy grin taking over his face. “You heading over there after work?”

“Reverse,” Buck answers, hoping if he’s nonchalant enough the ridiculous blush he still gets talking about Tommy won’t show up. “He’s at my place—he’s uh… getting dinner started.” And there’s the damn blush anyway, running up his neck.

“I thought you said Tommy was a terrible cook,” Hen says, joining them and sitting on the arm of the couch behind Buck’s head. She tries to sneak a peek at the conversation but Buck drops the phone to his chest.

He sits up and looks at her offended. “Okay, one… eye’s to yourself, thank you very much.” She rolls her own eyes and picks up the throw pillow to hit him with. “Two… I would never say that!”

“And yet you’re not saying he’s not,” Chimney says with a smirk.

“He’s— he’s improving.”

The bell goes off. They all groan. “Better tell the wife you’re gonna be late Buckley,” Gerrard calls from the foot of the stairs.

The ride to the fire is quiet.

No one can ever say anything without Gerrard chiming in with his unwanted two cents. So they sit in silence unwilling to give him anything to use as fuel for another of his hate-filled remarks. Except today, Gerrard decides to initiate the conversation. “So Buckley,” he says; his lips curl up into the beginnings of one of his snarky smirks. “Have you ever lost someone on the job?”

His eyes zero in on his target; the bait to what Buck is certain will be some kind of trap dangling in front of him. “Haven’t we all? Kind of par for the course with this line of work,” Buck answers.

“Yeah, well, you have your typical run of the mill losses on the job; then you have the ones that tend to be a little more—” he pauses to lick his lips, like he’s savoring what he’s about to say. “—personal.” He continues to stare at Buck, whose skin feels like it's crawling under the intensity of it. He waits a beat and then: “Kinard ever tell you about his?”

There it is… the other shoe, heavy as it drops.

Buck doesn’t respond. He has heard a couple of Tommy’s work related horror stories; Buck has shared some of his own. Mostly they just leave work at their respective stations and spend the limited amount of time they get together not dwelling on the bad aspects of being a first responder. “Yeah I’ve heard them,” Buck says, hoping it will be dropped at that; or maybe they will get to the fire… He doesn’t think it’s ever taken this long to arrive on scene before.

“So he’s told you about Jay, then?”

Buck feels his face drop. He feels his brows furrow in confusion and his mouth pulls down before he can stop it. Everyone in the engine looks confused.

Gerrard, on the other hand, looks overly amused. “Ohh, guess he still doesn’t like to talk about him,” he says, and the engine screeches to a stop.

The fire is pretty intense, and everyone is drained afterwards. Thankfully, Gerrard doesn’t mention Tommy—or this Jay person—when they load up for the ride back to the station.

“Get out of your head, Buck…” Hen says quietly. He stops fumbling with the things in his locker, and looks back over his shoulder at her. “You’re letting him get to you. You can’t do that.”

“Yeah, kid, he’s a leech, he feeds on your emotions,” Chimney adds from beside him.

“B- but neither of you know who he’s talking about?”

Hen shakes her head, Chimney shrugs. “Tommy was here before either of us, maybe it was from back then.”

“He’s never mentioned this guy to you?” Eddie asks Buck.

“Never.”

“Then it’s probably no one important,” he continues. “Come on, it’s Tommy! Why would he keep something supposedly big from you?”

Buck’s tongue feels heavy. He wants to say: Maybe because I’m the one who’s not important enough to share it with. He knows that will not go over well with them, so he tucks it away with his other negative thoughts. “You’re probably right…” he does say.

“Of course I’m right,” Eddie smirks.

“I don’t know about you guys,” Ravi calls out to them as he walks backwards out of the station. “But I’m ready to get out of here! I love you all, but I need my two days of not seeing you.”

“I’ll see you boys later,” Hen says to Buck and Eddie. She is going to meet up with Karen and Denny so they can spend the day with Mara at the Buckley-Han household. It’s all she has talked about almost the entire shift.

Once Hen and Chimney are gone Eddie walks over and leans on the locker next to Buck’s. “Hen’s right, you know,” he says. “You gotta get out of your head about this, man. Before you start overthinking it.”

Buck sighs. He hangs his uniform up, and closes the locker. “Yeah,” he finally replies. “Yeah, I know—I will. It’s fine… I’m fine.”

~~~

A shift passes, then another. Soon it’s been a couple weeks. If Gerrard has plans to follow up his questioning about Tommy, and the accident, and Jay… and Buck not knowing about any of it, he hasn’t acted on them yet.

Maybe everyone was right. Maybe it was just something to get under Buck's skin; plant the seeds of doubt that had never once been present before and set in motion the derailment of the most stable relationship Buck knows he’s ever had. He decides to remove it from the bin of thoughts that he randomly goes through and obsesses over, and fully let it go…

Or, that was the plan, anyway.

By mid September—following a lengthy investigation into exactly how Gerrard was put back in charge of the 118; that ended with multiple people losing their jobs, Gerrard included—Bobby was finally reinstated as their captain. It should be a joyous day. Gerrard is cleaning out his—well it’s no longer his—office. The whole team is gathered outside, ready to give him a great big good riddance for the final time.

Gerrard walks out, passing by each firefighter as if they weren’t even there, head still held high. He stops just as he is about to step out of the station, turns and locks his sight on Buck. “You ever ask Kinard about that accident?” He asks, narrowing his eyes menacingly. “Or are you too scared you might learn Prince Charming isn’t quite as Charming as he seems.”

Buck tenses his jaw, holding it firmly in place, fully prepared to not indulge in his taunting. He’s about to be gone for good; he only has to deal with him for a little bit longer.

Gerrard raises his brows, his smirk bordering on becoming manic. “Don’t believe me? Just ask your buddies. Han and Wilson have plenty of stories of their days as probies working with the real Tommy… before he went sweet.” Again Buck can feel his face furrowing in confusion before he can stop it.

“Don’t listen to him, Buck,” Hen says, putting herself between him and Gerrard. Chimney joins her, their backs to Gerrard who has made no more effort to just get lost (like Buck, and everyone else, wishes he would). “I told you he is just trying to get—”

“Oh, come now Henrietta,” Gerrard scoffs. “Don’t act like he didn’t put you down, and treat you like the maid, and less than him… just like everyone else—well, save for Han of course.” Gerrard turns his attention to Chimney, who is still not looking at him. “You haven’t told him about how Tommy treated you when you started… and only let up once you saved his life.”

“Alright that’s enough,” Bobby says, making his way to the front of the group, right up to Gerrard. “I don’t know what your motive is here, but I think it’s time for you to leave.”

There’s a short lived, but still intense, staring battle between the two men, with the entire team watching and holding their breath. Gerrard flicks his eyes from Bobby to Buck and his damned smirk returns. He doesn’t say another word, just turns and walks away. Ravi lets out a ‘whoop whoop’ causing an uproar of cheers and laughter from the entire 118.

It was a summer of hell under Gerrard, but now it’s over. Life can finally get back to normal… except— except now a can of worms has been opened. “What was he talking about,” Buck asks once the crowd disperses, and it’s just their little group standing by the engine.

Hen groans. “Buck, you’re letting him get to you.”

“But you’re not denying it—”

“Because it’s not important,” Chimney interrupts. “By the time I started Tommy had already been under Gerrard for a while; that man had his hooks so deep in him—in all of them. Besides, he has more than apologized for how he acted back then.”

“You do know he’s part of the reason Gerrard had to leave the 118 in the first place,” Hen adds. “He reported his behavior towards me. That’s the story you should care about, Buck. Or how he helped us with that neighborhood fire; saved Eddie and that kid's lives. Or how he risked his job to help us find Cap and ‘Thena… Not the things he has done that he has long been forgiven for.”

Buck knows it’s a losing argument; he doesn’t think he really wants to argue with them about it anyway. They’re right. Why let all this stuff an old bigot tried to resurface from Tommy’s past dictate their happy present. It shouldn’t matter; it doesn’t matter… if Chimney and Hen forgive him, that’s all that matters.

Except…

Except he knows himself well enough to know he isn’t going to be at ease until he at least figures out what the deal with this accident is all about, and who exactly Jay is.

~~~

“Babe, can I ask you kind of a personal question?”

Tommy leans out around the opened hood of his truck to look at him. “Of course,” he says, furrowing his brows slightly. Buck knows he has probably turned a shade of green from how sick to his stomach he feels about actually approaching this. Especially after being told repeatedly that he shouldn’t. Tommy sets his wrench down and grabs a rag to clean off his hands, walking out of the garage to Buck. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh—yeah, well, that’s just it… I don’t—” Buck pauses, takes a deep breath and just spits it out: “Tommy, who’s Jay?”

Tommy blinks. His face shifts from concerned to confused to something somewhere between anger and annoyance. “Where did you— How did you…” he sighs. “Let me guess. Gerrard?”

“Mhmm,” Buck hums with a small nod.

“That’s just—” Tommy starts, huffing out a sarcastic laugh as he roughly wipes the oil and grease from his hands. “That’s just great,” he finishes, angrily tossing the cloth at the floor. Buck waits patiently; he thinks he owes Tommy that much seeing as whatever—whoever—this is, it’s clearly something Tommy isn’t happy about Gerrard sharing. “I–” Tommy looks at Buck, his eyes suddenly turning red and he quickly wipes at them. “I’m sorry, Evan. I can’t…”

“You can’t?”

Tommy shakes his head hard. “I can’t talk about this–about him, not now… not yet. I–” He inhales sharp and it comes back out a broken sob. Buck is so taken aback, because Tommy rarely ever cries; Buck doesn’t think he’s ever seen him shed more than a few tears, and those were over happy moments.

One time was during some sappy—but with the saddest ending—romcom. Once when he found a dead cat in his backyard. And maybe the most emotional was when Buck slipped up during a particularly passionate kiss and told him that he loved him. Tommy’s face went so red, and Buck began to panic and then profusely apologize until Tommy took his face in his hands and said it back a single tear falling from his eye. Buck wiped it away and leaned back in to continue kissing him.

“Hey,” Buck says, feet quickly moving him across the cement toward Tommy. He slips his arms under Tommy’s, wrapping them around his back and pulling him into a hug. “It’s okay… you don’t have to.”

“I’m—I’m sorry… It’s just… it’s too—”

Buck can feel the tears soaking through his shirt where Tommy has pressed his face to Buck’s shoulder. He feels like such a jerk. “No,” he says, rubbing his hands up and down Tommy’s back. “No, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have asked. I was letting Gerrard get in my head—I was being stupid…”

“You’re not being stupid, Evan,” Tommy says, muffled against the fabric of Buck’s shirt. “You were curious. I understand… It’s just–” Tommy pulls away, taking a step back. He wraps his own arms around himself, and it shocks Buck how small he seems right now. He slowly lifts his eyes to Buck’s, he looks broken (Buck hates himself for it) but mostly he looks worried. “This is—it’s really personal…” he says. “And I’m just not ready to share it yet.”

“That’s okay,” Buck quickly responds. “I understand, and I won’t bring it up again. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

A wave of relief visibly washes over Tommy’s face. The worried frown turns back into that familiar soft smile, and Buck tells himself he is one hundred percent fine with how this whole conversation turned out.

He is fine not knowing.

He is fine.

~~~

Time passes and it feels like the universe is playing the ultimate prank on one Evan Buckley.

On the outside everything has returned to normal. Everyone’s lives seem to have fallen back in line. Bobby is once again leading them, Hen and Karen get Mara back, Eddie convinces Christopher to come home (and they are both regularly going to therapy about the whole Kim/Shannon of it all), Chimney’s latest appointment shows no lingering effects of the encephalitis… but Buck— Buck is… struggling. He is struggling, and he feels so guilty about it, but he can’t get past it.

If it’s not seeing the name Jay in—damn near constant—passing, it’s hearing random stories about the people Tommy has saved (and knowing somewhere out there is a story of someone significant he didn’t). It’s the little signs, and the messages, and the ads he keeps seeing; an online quiz on ‘how well do you know your partner’, a billboard about getting out of an untrustworthy relationship, a commercial about not keeping secrets.

They mean nothing, he knows that. He’s self-sabotaging, he knows that.

It doesn’t stop him from collecting each one like trading cards and adding them to his bin of thoughts until it’s full and he has to do something or it’s going to overflow and drown him.

“You planning on spending your day off here, Buckaroo?”

“Hmm…” Buck blinks, breaking from his thoughts and looking up from his phone—more specifically from the text that just came in. Chimney is standing in front of him, arms crossed, brows pulled together. “Oh, hey Chim—I was just watching—” but the TV is now off. “Huh? I was watching TV.”

Chimney hums, tucking his hands further under his arms. “Is everything okay,” he asks. “You and Tommy… you good?”

“What? Yeah. We’re— Why— why would you think we weren’t? Has he—”

“Whoa now; calm down,” Chimney laughs, putting his hands up in defense. “Tommy hasn’t said anything. You just seem… distracted. Ever since—” He pauses. “I just want to make sure you’re not still dwelling on the crap Gerrard said.”

“Oh, I—” His phone feels extremely heavy in his hand now. He gets the reminder of the unread text. He should probably say something before Chimney gets suspicious. “I’m fine,” he lies, and it makes his stomach sour instantly.

Chimney doesn’t move—doesn’t look away. “You sure about that?” Buck nods, thinking he might be sick if he tries to say another word. “Okay,” Chimney sighs. “You know, Buck… we all have done things we aren’t proud of. I know I have…” Buck is reminded of an angry fist, and a swollen black eye Chimney apologized for everytime they were alone for almost a year.

He is reminded of a lawsuit he still regrets, and a tipsy kiss that unintentionally spiraled him into his second serious relationship. He is reminded of sudden nerves burying him deep into a closet he hadn’t even realized he had been in all along. He is reminded of reaching out for help spying on his boyfriend because he can’t get out of his own head about something that could very much be nothing.

His phone vibrates; another reminder he has an unread text.

He waits until Chimney disappears down the stairs to look back at his phone.

I’ll be home at 8… see you then

~~~

Buck parks his jeep outside the apartment complex, takes the stairs up to the third floor, and stands awkwardly outside apartment 3C contemplating turning around and running back down before he is spotted. He doesn’t, and instead lifts his hand to knock.

A couple days ago his thought’s overfilled the bin … a couple days ago he could no longer ignore his curiosity … a couple days ago Buck came to one of the only people who doesn’t know Tommy enough to be emotionally invested in this … investigation … Buck decided he needed to go on.

A moment later the door is pulled open, and May is in front of him. “Hey,” she says, her smile mirroring Athena’s. “Come in!”

“Uh— Hey,” Buck says back, subconsciously wiping the sweat forming on his hands, off. “So did— did you find anything?” Her smile fades, she shifts on her feet. “You did… Is it — is it that bad…” he asks, wondering if he will even be able to hear her response over the sudden pounding of his heart.

“It’s not necessarily good,” she replies. He wishes he actually hadn’t been able to hear her. He feels himself start to deflate.

May walks to her room, comes back with her laptop, stalls just as she’s about to hand it to him. “Wait,” she says, pulling the laptop back to her chest and holding it there. “Are you sure you want to do this? I mean… why make trouble in paradise when there isn’t any?”

“Is it really paradise if he’s hiding stuff from me?”

May sighs, and opens her laptop. “I guess not,” she says once her password is entered and everything she found is pulled up.

The first thing she shows him is the article released the day of the accident.

Tragedy on the Vincent Thomas Bridge

Unidentified man jumps from bridge into LA Harbor late Tuesday afternoon.

LAFD station 118 responded to calls that a man had climbed over the bridge railing. Witnesses say Thomas Kinard (Pictured above) a firefighter with the 118 was on scene trying to talk the man off the edge before he let go, falling 186 feet into the Harbor below.

Buck looks at the picture of a much younger Tommy, dazed and disheveled, one hand running through his hair. He thinks, I know that look… I’ve had that look. He thinks of Devon falling to the ground from the roller coaster. Suddenly he is regretting everything about this. He clicks to the next article anyway.

LGBTQ+ Community Speak Out On Bridge Suicide

Following the death of Jay Pridgen, a member of the LGBT community, rumors began of prejudices within LAFD Station 118, who were present at the scene of the accident. The rumors are calling the stations Captain, Vincent Gerrard, out for repeatedly exhibiting biased behaviors when dealing with minority groups. When asked, Gerrard had no comment. Also under fire is the first responder who was on the bridge with Pridgen. Kinard is being accused of stalling rather than actually trying to get Pridgen off the edge.

Fire Chief Releases A Statement on Alleged Homophobia Within Station 118

Bridge Tragedy Officially Ruled An Accident

While it’s unclear what Pridgen’s original intentions were when he climbed over the railing of the Vincent Thomas Bridge, Firefighter Thomas Kinard went on record Friday insisting Pridgen did not jump but instead fell to his death. Kinard states he was trying to get to him but was unable to before he slipped from the edge. While there are some who still are hoping for an investigation into LAFD, specifically station 118, Captain Vincent Gerrard says he hopes this new cause of death will allow everyone to move on from this clear and complete accident so his team can get back to their jobs without having to deal with the torches and pitchforks coming for them daily.

“Wow…” Buck says softly. “That’s— That’s a lot.”

“That’s… not all,” May admits, clicking on yet another link. “So even though the accident itself is really terrible, it felt weird that he would hide it from you. I mean Tommy’s part of the community, it’s not like he really let this guy fall because he’s gay… right? So I kept digging and I found… this.” Buck holds his breath, May pulls up a picture. It’s an army Platoon, and upon closer inspection it’s Tommy’s platoon.

“I don’t understand,” Buck says.

“Once I had Jay’s full name I searched it together with Tommy’s… just to see if there were any more articles on the accident, but I found this picture instead.” She scrolls up to reveal the names of the soldier’s; the man in the middle next to Tommy, arm draped over his shoulder holding Tommy tight to his side… is Jay Pridgen.

“Oh my god… they— they knew each other?” And well that definitely adds a whole new layer to how traumatic Jay's death must have been. Buck sighs and closes May’s laptop. He thanks her for going through all the articles and everything for him, even if it feels wrong to thank someone for invading Tommy’s privacy.

He rides home in silence, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. He feels crappy, and insensitive… he collapses onto his bed the second he reaches it. Maybe he can sleep on it and his head will be clearer in the morning. Honestly he thinks he would like to just forget about this whole thing; that sounds like a very good idea.

His phone dings.

A notification that Tommy tagged him in a photo. He opens it and is met with himself and Tommy, standing in front of a gorgeous sunset on the beach; bodies pressed against each other, noses touching and their lips just a breath away from a kiss. Yeah, he’s all mine <3 Buck feels the smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he double taps the image watching the red heart bloom out from his thumb.

He is so happy. Why is he trying to ruin that for himself? He clicks on Tommy’s account, looking through all the pictures Tommy has posted of him, and of them together. A visual confirmation of the true meaning of happiness that Buck has finally found. Buck has liked them all already, so he just scrolls through them.

Next thing he knows he has gone back to before they met. Tommy didn't use social media that much, at least not in the recent years before they got together. He only has a handful of images from each year and some years there’s gaps where he didn’t post anything.

Buck doesn’t think he’s ever gone so deep into Tommy’s account before. He decides to go all the way back to the beginning and scroll up. He can’t help but laugh at how tiny Tommy looks in the very first pictures he posted; horrible quality shots of him showing off his baby muscles (compared to the ones he has now anyway), giving his best smolder for the camera. As he starts scrolling through them it’s so reminiscent of his own earlier days on the app, just thirst trap after thirst trap and Buck is kind of loving the experience.

He goes through them, liking each one, before he notices something that has him sitting up in his bed.

It’s a picture taken up in the snow; a picture taken in NorCal. Tommy's mom lives in NorCal so that’s not surprising… what is surprising is the top name on the list of likes. It’s Jay. Buck blinks at the name thinking the letters might shift and he’ll realize he’s just reading the username wrong; it’s JPridge82, he’s definitely not reading it wrong. He scrolls up to the next picture. Tommy with his mom; liked by JPridge82. Tommy in his 118 turnouts; liked by JPridge82. Tommy in bed clearly wrapped around another body, his eyes are half-lidded and tired, the caption reads wake me up before you go go; liked by JPridge82, and a comment… but you're so cute when you sleep, baby! Tommy replies: oh shut up! XD

It easily could be read as banter; he and Eddie play flirt like that all the time. Next picture: a restaurant table Buck recognizes oh too intimately. Think I found my new favorite Italian restaurant; liked by JPridge82 and replies: sameee

A picture of two shadows holding hands. Take my hand, take my whole life too. It’s askew enough you only see part of the bodies and then their hands (enough you can’t see their heights are the same, Buck thinks. That would have raised questions for sure.) Liked by JPridge82; aww baby look at us xoxo. Tommy replies: my god you are ridiculous

The inside of Tommy’s old truck, two coffee cups in the holders. Let’s get out of this town <3. Liked by JPridge82.

The next picture is a new thirst trap, of sorts. Tommy standing in the mirror shirtless. He isn’t flexing, or posing. Just standing there. No caption. No like by JPridge82, but there is a comment from Sal. Not the mopey instagram posts! She wasn’t for you, man! Let it go, you’ll find new ass in no time. Tommy didn’t respond.

The pictures slowly turn from selfies, to work related, to memes. Some of which are extremely questionable; putting down women, or minorities. Some are downright hateful. They are so unlike the Tommy he knows now. They are definitely giving Buck a look at this person Gerrard was referring to when he made the comment about Buck not knowing the “real” Tommy. He thinks of what Chimney and Hen said; that he has profusely apologized for how he was back when they started. Why hasn’t he taken them down then.

He sets his jaw, trying to not let the annoyance building set him off, and goes back to the last picture Jay liked. He clicks on the username. “Dammit,” he mumbles out loud. His account is private.

He gets an idea.

It’s one that on a typical day he would be annoyed with himself for having… but it’s almost three in the morning he is running off pure adrenaline now and he isn’t thinking like he typically would… he logs out of his own Instagram and logs into Tommy’s.

It’s not that he was being sneaky and eavesdropped on Tommy entering his password, Tommy literally typed it out right in front of him. He had taken a picture of them and needed to log in to post it. He is always saying he has nothing to hide from Buck… Seems like he had one thing to hide.

Buck’s heart is pounding into his ears as he opens Tommy’s followers list. Maybe they weren’t even following each other anymore, Buck thinks, his thumb lingering over the search bar. Maybe he should just back out of this while he’s still somewhat in the dark, before he brings to light something he doesn’t want to know.

JPridge82.

Buck feels his heart completely stop beating. He shouldn’t do this. Hell, he shouldn’t be on Tommy’s instagram in the first place. He clicks on the name anyway. Immediately his suspensions are answered. Private accounts come with freedom; freedom to share whatever you want because you control who can see it. And Jay didn’t have that many followers, so they likely all knew the truth.

Jay’s photo bin looks eerily similar to how Tommy’s account looks now, except its picture after picture of Tommy and Jay together.

One in bed, Tommy’s head resting on Jay’s chest. One from what must have been a hike, far from any peeping eyes; a kiss in front of a waterfall. Their hands clasped together over the center console of one of their cars. A movie date; Buck and Tommy have still never made up their missed movie date, never had the time. He doesn’t mean for the jealousy that starts to bloom deep in his chest, but it’s there and he is too drained to even attempt to push it away.

He wonders why Tommy wouldn’t tell him about such a pivotal time of his life.

My Forever <3 Jay captions a picture of Tommy staring out at the ocean, his hair wet and tousled like he just came out of the water.

Buck looks through the pictures, each one feeling like a stab to the chest—this was not meant for him to see. This was something beautiful Tommy had… and lost… and he wanted to keep it to himself. But Buck can never leave well enough alone, and he took that decision from Tommy.

He is about to close his phone when he sees Jay’s last post isn’t a picture but text.

I wish I had been enough of a reason for you to stop lying about who you are. Posted — August 8, 2010. A week before the accident.

Buck closes his phone, but he doesn’t—he can’t—go to sleep.

~~~

There’s a knock on his door.

Buck wishes he could just hide under his covers and pretend he doesn’t hear it; he knows exactly who it is.

He spent his first day off avoiding Tommy. He had hoped Tommy hadn’t caught on; he was working a 24 and from the already scarcity of his calls and texts, it seemed the shift was a busy one. Usually as soon as Tommy is suspicious of Buck’s behavior he will go hide somewhere so he can call—and will repeatedly call—to figure out what’s wrong. He hasn’t pressed once as Buck went through literally every excuse in the book as to why he wasn’t able to talk, and he has seemed just as unfazed by the lack of enthusiasm in all of Buck’s texts.

He should have known it wouldn’t be that simple.

Another knock. He could continue to ignore it, but Tommy has a key.

Buck groans and pushes off his bed, taking the steps one at a time for once; no reason other than to prolong reaching the door. “Hey baby,” Tommy says, cheery and bright, the second Buck opens it. “Were you sleeping?”

I wish, Buck thinks. “I… was,” Buck lies. “What’s all this…”

In Tommy’s hands there’s a huge, beautiful bouquet of flowers, a bottle of wine, and a card. He hands Buck the card first. “Uh— let’s call it an… it seems like I’ve done something and haven’t realized what it is yet… surprise.” Buck can’t help the laugh that escapes him. What does he say to that… yeah you have, I just haven’t rationalized whether I truly deserve to be mad at you about it or not. “So… go on, read it.”

Buck sighs, finally looking down at the card in his hands. My forever is written in Tommy’s small ridiculously neat handwriting with a heart at the end. He stares at the card, his mind going right back to a private account and a picture captioned My Forever <3.

“I— I know… cheesy right?”

Buck breaks his eyes away from the words, bringing them up to Tommy’s. “Why— why would you put that…”

“Uhm—” Tommy looks at him confused, if not a little hurt. “I mean… I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be so on the nose… but that is what I see with you… if you don’t—”

“Is that what you saw with Jay too?” Buck asks before he can stop himself.

Tommy’s eyes widen, he steps back. “What…”

Buck has been here before. Putting himself in an awkward situation and so yet his mouth still starts moving against his better judgment. “I mean… that’s what he saw with you… but maybe it was only one-sided.” Tommy doesn’t speak, continuing to stare at Buck like he has grown a second head. Might as well rip the bandaid off, he thinks; shrugs. “You didn’t want to talk about him… so I just found out myself. It’s not like it’s hard to pull up an old news article.”

“You— but how did you get on his—” Tommy blinks, a new look crossing his face; he knows what Buck did. It should make Buck feel bad; it does make him feel bad… but it also makes him feel defensive. He deserved to know—if only he truly believed that.

“I’ve told you everything, Tommy!” He snaps. “I’ve told you all about my past, all my relationships, Daniel. Every sad, and hard, and embarrassing, and traumatic experience… I told you. But you... You’re this big mystery. You don’t talk about anything. The only thing you’ve told me about your past is that it makes you jealous of mine…” The tension in Tommy’s face has gone slack, and he’s just taking the lecture with calmness; meanwhile Buck’s heart is about to pound out of his chest and his skin has gone hot and numb. “But did you ever think that maybe the reason we’re like a family is because we treat each other like equals. Instead of like some of them are beneath us...”

That gets him a reaction; finally, he thinks. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t act like you and Chimney and Hen always got along… like you didn’t follow Gerrard’s lead when they first started…” Tommy looks at him like a kicked puppy; Buck internally screams at himself that it’s enough. It’s not enough, he adds: “Not to mention all the crap you used to share. That you probably got a good laugh about with all your buddies at the expense of others.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Tommy cries.

Buck sees red, throwing the unopened card down on the table and storming up to his phone. He doesn’t even log out of Tommy’s account, just finds the memes and shoves them in his face. “This is what you think is funny?”

“Evan, these are— do you even realize how long ago this was?!”

“What difference does that make!?” Buck screams back.

Tommy sighs, and hands Buck back his phone. “No… you’re— you’re right. It doesn’t make a difference… it doesn’t make it okay.”

Buck thinks he’s said enough. He has revealed what he knows. “So is that what happened with you and Jay…” he says instead… the words sliding their way out of his mouth and he can’t stop them. “He couldn’t live a lie any more… couldn’t live your lie anymore.” It’s rolling off his tongue so easily, it actually disgusts him. But the words pass his lips and he watches the exact moment they slap Tommy across the face and the man gasps like he’d actually just been assaulted. His eyes instantly fill with tears and he has to break his eyes from Buck in an attempt to blink them away.

“You— you have no idea what you're talking about, Evan. You had no right to…”

“To what? Question if I really know the man I was considering spending the rest of my life with? I’ve been through this, Tommy, too many times. You think you know someone… and it turns out you don’t.”

“How can you even say that?!” Tommy all but screams, rubbing the back of his hand—still holding on to the bottle of wine—over his eyes and nose. “Okay yeah, I didn’t tell you about a really hard time in my life… and maybe given everything surrounding it I should have. Maybe I should have even told you about how it was when Howie and Hen first started. And yes, I should have gone through and deleted all those posts a long time ago… But to say you don’t really know me? Those things don’t define me!”

“They sure say a lot though…”

Tommy goes silent. He takes a few calming breaths, fresh tears in his eyes and trails running down both cheeks. “So— so what is this— what are we— what does this mean, then… for us?”

Buck shrugs. “That maybe I'm not your forever,” he says, tightening his jaw so it won’t betray the stone cold persona he is trying to uphold by trembling.

Tommy freezes, the bottle of wine and roses he’s still holding suddenly seem so out of place. “You don’t mean—” he starts; he searches Buck’s eyes like he’s trying to find a different answer. He doesn’t seem to find one. “Really?” Buck doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t take it back either. He just swallows around the lump forming in his throat and manages to hold his composure. “Okay… if that’s—” he shifts on his feet, breaking away from Buck’s eyes; Buck is grateful for it. “O- Okay.”

He sits the roses and wine on the table by the card and turns for the door. “You— you don’t need to leave those…” Buck manages to say; it sounds so petty, it disgusts him.

Tommy opens the door and turns back to the roses. “Think of it as… a goodbye gift,” he says, quietly, giving a halfhearted laugh. He turns his head farther, so he is again looking at Buck, giving him one more chance to take it back. He doesn’t. “Good-bye, Buck,” Tommy says and pulls the door closed behind him.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Maybe axel asking jack for relationship advice

AN: Axel is sixteen in this

Jack was in the kitchen on the hunt for the sweet potato pies that you had made and hid from him last weekend when Axel walked into the kitchen and called out for him.

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” Was all he answered as he turned around and thought about the next possible hiding spot for the pies.

“Um…” Axel started to say and instantly got quiet, making Jack stop his task of finding the pies and looking over at him.

“Everything okay?” He asked and Axel simply shrugged.

“I need advice.” Axel quietly said and a million things started to run through Jack’s mind.

“About what?” He asked as he took a seat on the island and Axel sat across from him. 

“So there’s this girl…” Axel started to say, but Jack immediately put his hand up to stop him.

“Before we go any further, there better NOT be any pregnancy caused by my second born.”

“NO! I’m not stupid! I know you two will kill me!”

“Okay, now that we got that out of the way, continue. What about this girl?”

“I like her, but I don’t know if she likes me back or even notices me for that matter. How did you get mom to notice you?”

“Taking note of what her interests were and letting her know that they were important to me too. For example, I definitely think that if your mother wasn’t famous that she would work for NASA because of how much she loves space. That’s where Nova’s name came from. And she did the same thing for me, we were around each other so much and spent so much time together because of that. Yes, her looks are a plus, but if she doesn’t have the personality to go with it then what’s the point? She needs to be a good person on the inside too.”

“And that’s when you bought her that telescope? And named a star after her?”

“Mm hmm, took me four months to save up my allowance to buy it for her and she still has it laying around here somewhere.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before Jack spoke up again.

“But even when we were at odds before the three of you were born, my love for her didn’t waver. Yes, I was mad at her and let a lot of things slide that I shouldn’t have, and she still forgave me because of the type of person that she is. I definitely didn’t think I deserved another chance and had it made up in my mind that she was going to divorce me and was just literally waiting for her to say it. I don’t ever take having her in my life or the six of you for granted because it definitely could have gone another way.”

“I… see how you look at her when she isn’t paying attention and I want to be able to do that one day. And I noticed that you two never argue in front of us.”

“I have the utmost respect for her and I never want a thought that I don’t love her or care about her to cross her mind because that couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s literally my entire world and it got a little bigger when she had all of you. We want for you all to have an example of what a healthy marriage looks like.” Jack said, being completely honest. Anything that you needed or wanted no matter how big or small, he would do it for you. 

"The pies are behind the cheesecake on the bottom shelf in the back left corner by the way. I won't tell mom I said anything."

"You have officially won my favorite child of the day award."

Your laughter filled the kitchen as you were now trying to cook dinner as Jack was behind you. He had told you that he was coming to help you, but instead he had been the test taster and was stealing bites of food every few minutes.

“Jackman! If you don’t quit we won’t have any food left!”

“But I’m starving!”

“How are you starving and you’ve been stuffing your face for close to an hour?!” You asked as he reached over to take another bite of food and you slapped his hand away.

“It’s almost finished, be patient!” You scolded and all you got in response as he kissed your cheek and you couldn’t help but to smile.

Axel was standing in the doorway of the kitchen and simply admired his parents from afar as Jack had now taken your hand and the two of you were dancing around the kitchen and waiting for the food to finish.

And he took note of how Jack was looking at you when you didn’t notice knowing that was something that he wanted to have one day.

[mags-writes]

Sunlight || Part III

Summary: frank offers his shoulder for you to cry on

Series Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical swearing, first time writing x reader, no use of y/n, no beta readers we die like ray nadeem

Pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

PROLOGUE/MASTERLIST || PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

Three weeks had gone by. Three weeks of you and Frank dancing around each other while trying not to tip off Matt that there was something going on.

But was there? Frank seemed so in control over every fiber of his being that you doubted anything was actually going on. Then there were the days that he got home before Matt. He would stand behind you, towering above you, and give your shoulders a rub with his rough hands. He handled you like glass, like if he moved too suddenly you'd bleed. He'd help you cook dinner and tell you how beautiful his lunch was that afternoon, that the only thing missing was your company. He'd pick up when you started getting a cramp in your hand from cutting up enough vegetables for three people and rub his thumbs in soothing circles to make it go away. Then Matt would walk through the door.

Something was going on. That was for sure, even if you doubted it sometimes.

The first time you saw Matt leave the apartment in the middle of the night, you kept your breathing even and didn't move a muscle. You weren't surprised when Frank's phone woke you up a couple hours later and he left in a hurry as well. The next day when you woke up to Matt with a frozen bag of green beans to his jaw, you scolded him like an older sister. The topic of Daredevil had never come up in your mind until then. You didn't know if it was even him to start off with and if it was then who else knew? Did Foggy and Karen know like back in your dimension? Did Frank?

Matt lied straight through his teeth with a guilt-ridden expression. He fell down the stairs. Allegedly.

Other Matt tried that lie once. Only once. Before you ripped him a new asshole. And it led to you becoming his girl in the chair. It also led you to own your own firearm after some kidnappings put you in the hospital once the bad guys found out Daredevil was running around with an earpiece.

You stopped what you were about to say, Frank rounding the corner after hearing your voice echo through the apartment. You took a deep breath and accepted the gracious gift of hindsight.

"If you're lying to cover up the fact that you got punched by someone-" You were about to start a rant again when Frank chuckled.

"Who'd be cruel enough to punch a blind guy?" He said, coming closer and taking the bag off of Matt's face. "What'd you do? Fall down some stairs again?"

Oh.

Oh, Frank knows. That's why he calls Matt 'Red'.

You willed yourself for the love of god to play it dumb. Like you didn't just put the pieces together. One man before you was blind, but despite being a walking lie detector, he wouldn't be able to see your face. The other, while he admitted to being dense, could read people better than you could ever hope to.

"Whatever," You mumbled, throwing your hands up and going around them both to start your normal routine of making your coffee that had been laid out by Frank and making them lunch. "Bro code, I get it."

"Sweetheart-"

"No, it's fine." You interrupted because if you didn't then you'd fold like a lawn chair. "Have each other's backs. That's what friends are for."

You heard Frank sigh and one of them walk away.

"Hey," Frank said, putting both of his hands on your shoulders and coaxing you to turn around. You put up a little fight, stirring your coffee before Frank put more pressure and you relented with your eyes down. "Hey, hey. Look at me, hm? Look at me."

You huff, snapping your eyes up with a hint of anger.

"He forgets I know what it looks like when he lies." You said.

"Okay, so what do you think happened?" He calmly asked, and you knew exactly what he was doing.

"I don't know!" You brought your hands up in front of you. "But it's the same shit excuse the other Matt gave me every time he showed up with a beaten-up face and a limp."

Frank frowned, probably turning over the question of why Matt hadn't told you his secret.

"When did your Matt become 'other' Matt?" You froze, not expecting that question in the slightest.

You stuttered, stumbling over your words, starting a sentence and breaking off at the first word before shutting your mouth and intently looking at his chest. It wasn't hard, he was tall enough that you fit perfectly under his chin and your head rested against his chest.

You took in a sharp breath. "I don't want to go back." Frank reached out, putting his hands on your biceps, squeezing comfortingly and you brought yours to his chest, scrunching the material of his work shirt in tight fists. "All of you take for granted how safe you are here. You don't get it, I've looked up all the bad guys from my dimension, and nine out of ten times they're not here. I'm safe here."

"What about your Matt?" Frank asked, frowning like he didn't quite get it. "He's like your brother."

You look back at him at that. Matt was in his room, most likely listening in. If you said what you wanted to say then he would hear. You stuttered slightly again, getting frustrated that you couldn't get the words out.

"He doesn't see it that way." You finally got out, avoiding Frank's eyes again and you lowered your voice as tears started to gather. "He's been more Catholic whore than having Catholic guilt these days. He went through Clair and Karen and nothing's been the same since. I turned him down and I thought that we had moved passed it but right when I was brought here he brought up the topic again. I-Frank, I'm not safe there-I don't want-"

You started to cry then, sniffling and fighting off the tears as hard as you could.

"Hey, hey." Frank soothed, putting his hand behind your head and bringing you to his chest, rubbing your back with the other hand. "It's okay, doll. You don't wanna go, you don't have to."

"What if he shows up? What if he comes here and-"

"I won't let him." He squeezed tighter. I won't let him take you from me. "I won't let him make you do anything you don't wanna do."

Frank nearly sighed in relief when he remembered he was supposed to be convincing you that Matt wasn't Daredevil. Your use of 'other Matt' had thrown him so harshly that he couldn't stop his curiosity. He wondered for a moment that if you had been hiding that detail from them all then what was it like with Karen and Foggy?

You pulled back suddenly, wiping at your face and groaning for a second before shaking your head and looking up at him.

"Okay. I'm fine." You said. "Go drink your shit coffee." You started lightly pushing him away. "Go, I've got lunches to make."

Frank took a hold of your hands with a small smile, giving the upside of your palms a kiss each to the scars you refuse to tell him about that sat in the middle. Your face softened at that. A small smile fought its way to your face as he then leaned in to kiss your forehead. You had to quickly turn back to your coffee at the look he gave you, a look that he had been giving you more and more frequently, especially around Matt.

Not long later you finished up their lunches and they were sitting on the couch waiting patiently for you to bring it to them before they left. Just as usual you walked over to Matt first, him reaching out for the container and putting it in his bag then you moved to Frank who did the same. This time Frank stood first, giving you another kiss on the forehead and saying his goodbyes which confused you as Matt was usually the first out the door.

You cast a look down at Matt who by now was twiddling his thumbs as he waited for Frank to leave. Once the door was closed and Frank's heavy steps had faded he stood up.

"I'm sorry about before." He said earnestly, and you knew he was telling the truth. "I didn't mean to stress you out."

"I just-" you cut yourself off, pausing and thinking for a moment, remembering that he had absolutely heard everything you tearfully confessed to Frank. "I don't want you to lie to me."

"And I don't want to lie to you." He came forward, bringing you into a hug that you went into comfortably.

"Does it have something to do with a case?" You asked into his chest. "Are you in danger? Do we need to call the police?"

"I'll explain everything to you tomorrow night." He said as if he had just decided it at that moment. Like he was desperate to make you happy. "I promise."

He kissed the top of your head. Memories of your brother's all doing the same rushing to the surface of your mind. Memories of Matt doing the same when you were growing up. You never told him your brothers did that, never told him what it meant for him to do it. Never told him that other Matt had stopped.

"I'm not going to be coming home tonight." He said, pulling back.

"What?" You frowned harshly and he could hear it in your voice making him wince.

"Tomorrow night, remember?" He put both of his hands on your shoulders to calm you. "I just have to take care of some things tonight and hopefully it'll be sorted by tomorrow."

"And if it's not?"

"Then you'll hear about it." He said with a smile.

"What? On the news?" You said stressed again.

Matt laughed, bending down to pick up his bag.

"Let's hope not." Was his answer.