#i know davids been writing his for MONTHS now

[secretagentsloveblogs]

wait i dont think im ready to hear david and ashers vows yet hold on

[justnatoka]

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Poly! The Lost Boys x GN! Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: slight physical violence (manager grabs reader's arm), verbal abuse

Prompt: “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” / “Yes.” / “What if I just break his nose a little?”

Summary: The boys have been coming to the diner you’re waiting tables at for a while. Your manager is not a fan. One night things escalate.

Part 1/2

Next Part

The bell chimed above the door, signaling the arrival of new customers. You looked up after placing the food in front of an older couple, and a bright smile lit up your face as you saw the group of four that just walked in. David and his gang have been coming to the diner for months now. They showed up one night, seemingly curious about the new place that had just opened on the boardwalk. You took their order, they made a few flirty remarks, you flirted right back, and that was it. They obviously took a liking to you and have been coming back every other night. It was honestly the highlight of your day, your stomach flipping in excitement every time. Even if they barely ordered anything, they still spent hours there, and you made an effort to go over to them and chat when work got slower and you had some time.

Your manager clearly didn’t like that. He complained before that they make other customers uncomfortable – although it didn’t seem that way to you –, and chastised you for encouraging them to spend so much time there. He made it a point to give you meaningless tasks so you wouldn’t have time for them, making them leave quicker. He had also been making snide remarks about them and glaring at their table to the point that they started noticing it.

You could basically hear him rolling his eyes from behind the counter as you walked up to their booth and greeted them.

“Hey guys, long time no see,” you joked.

“Hi babe, did you miss us?” Paul purred resting his head in his hand, giving you a dreamy look.

“Maybe,” you smiled coyly. “Maybe not. Who knows?”

“You’re such a tease,” he pouted, but his eyes were smiling.

“You know you like it, Paulie.”

“Oh, I absolutely love it,” he grinned right back at you.

You chuckled. “What can I get you guys? The usual?”

“Can I have you for dinner, sugar? I promise I’ll be gentle. Unless you don’t want me to,” Marko said with a shit eating grin on his face.

“You and gentle are on two different planets when it comes to eating, Marko. Babe, if I were you, I wouldn’t let his teeth near me.”

Marko swatted at Paul, who grabbed a menu to shield himself. “Shut up, dude. You’re no better either. You make even bigger messes than I do.”

“Not true.”

“Who complained about his pants getting ruined just a few days ago? Again.”

“Come on, man, that was one time.”

“Like I said. Again.”

“Yeah? Well you-“

“Boys,” David interjected before it could get any more out of hand. “How about we order already?” His tone sounded casual, but there was an edge to it that caused the other two to begrudgingly back down. It was a good thing too. Some of the other customers were already staring at the commotion, shuffling uncomfortably in their seats and whispering among themselves. You could feel your manager practically glaring holes into the back of your head.

They proceeded to give you their orders one by one, and after writing them down and sending them one last smile, you went to relay the orders to the cook. That’s when your manager walked up to you, his stormy expression promising nothing good.

“I need to talk to you for a second,” he stated.

Holding back an eye roll you nodded, “Sure.”

“I told you before that they are not welcome here,” he started, sending a glance towards their table. “Tell those punks to behave or they’ll get kicked out. This is a respectable establishment. We don’t want some hooligans bringing down our reputation.”

You wondered whether he had the balls to do the kicking out himself, but all you said aloud was “Yes, sir.”

When you brought out their food, Dwayne caught your wrist to get your attention.

“Is he giving you trouble again?” He motioned with his eyes towards the kitchen, and you looked to see your manager staring out the little window cut into the door.

“It’s fine, nothing I can’t deal with,” you huffed, frustration evident in your voice. Dwayne gave you a concerned look but nodded, trusting your word.

“Thanks for checking in with me though,” you added, feeling a little bashful all of a sudden, not really used to people caring this much about your well-being.

“Of course,” he smiled back at you.

After giving them their food, you wanted to stay and chat for a bit more, seeing as there weren’t many customers, but you could still feel the glare of your manager so you thought better of it. You went back behind the counter and started wiping it down.

You busied yourself with other tasks for a while, refilling a few coffee cups and making small talk while doing so, cleaning up tables after customers left and taking the orders of new arrivals. Even so, you kept stealing glances at them, blushing when you caught David already looking at you a few times. You noticed that he had a habit of following you around with his eyes while you were working, and although you were slightly unnerved at first, now it felt reassuring to know that he was constantly watching over you.

Tearing your eyes from him you wondered, not for the first time, what their life might be like outside these nightly visits. As much as you’ve gotten to know them these past few months, they were still an enigma in a sense. You haven’t seen them around town during the day before, and every time you asked questions about their background, they skillfully redirected the conversation. So you stopped inquiring, afraid that your prodding will drive them away. For now, you were satisfied with just having them here every other night, brightening up your shift with some light flirting and laughter.

Speaking of laughter, you looked up at the sound of a commotion, only to see Marko dodging a fry chucked at his head by Paul and quickly countering with an attack of his own. Paul barely had time to hold up his menu, the handful of fries bouncing off its surface and onto the seat between them, some of it dropping to the floor. He just let down his impromptu shield, when an onion ring landed right in the middle of his face. The whole table burst out laughing, and he was pointing an accusatory finger at Dwayne, who was shrugging his shoulders with a grin. David was leaning back, watching the food fight with amusement, sipping on his drink.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics, not even bothered that you will have to clean up the mess they created. You headed to the back to get a broom, already thinking about a witty line to tell them off. You just turned around to go back out there, when your manager grabbed your arm. Startled, you let go of the broom and it loudly clattered to the floor.

As you looked into his eyes, you saw that he was seething.

“You tell these low-lives to get the hell out of here right now. Enough is enough. They are loud, not respecting other customers, and now they are making a huge mess by throwing food around. I’ve had it up to here with all this. If they keep coming back I’ll have to do something about it,” he hissed at you, then gave you a look which made you feel like dirt under his shoe. “It would also help a lot if you weren’t encouraging them. Batting your eyelashes like a common whore. You think I couldn’t replace you within a few days? You need to start behaving like a professional or so help me I’ll kick you to the curb.”

His grip on you was tightening with each word, and you tried not to flinch. You’ve never seen him so angry before and it was starting to scare you.

“I’m just trying to be friendly with the customers…”

He wasn’t having any of it. “Enough with the fucking excuses. You go over there and tell them to get out right now.”

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked out and as soon as he let you go, you rushed out of there, broom forgotten on the floor.

David was already looking at you when you approached them. His eyes were on you the second you stepped out of the door, his mood darkening as he took you in. Dwayne picked up on it as well, following his gaze to you. He became alert when he saw your stiff posture, your fingers nervously fidgeting with your apron.

“Hey, dollface,” Paul greeted you with a radiant smile, “have you tried this milkshake before? It’s fucking amazing.”

His grin instantly disappeared from his face when you didn’t smile back.

“Everything okay, babe?” he asked, a bit unsure.

You gave him a sigh before you spoke, “I’m sorry, guys, but you have to leave.” There was silence at the table.

“He did this to you?” Marko’s voice was cold as he asked while staring at your arm, where a bruise was already starting to form.

“Marko, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” you tried and failed to calm him down. He looked like he was fuming, ready to explode.

“Sweetheart, that’s not nothing,” Dwayne spoke up next, his jaw tight.

David didn’t say anything, but he was glaring down your manager with such intensity, that you saw him scramble back into the kitchen from the corner of your eye.

“I wanna punch him in the face,” Marko stated, and you had no doubt that he would if you let him.

“Please don’t. I need this job to pay my bills,” you sighed. You were getting exhausted at this point, and just wanted this shift to be over.

“Has he done this before? Hurt you?” Paul asked the question all of them wanted to know the answer to.

“No, he just likes to remind me that I’m a failure,” you smiled wryly. “But it’s nothing I can’t deal with. I promise.”

“Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” Marko repeated, this time with the corner of his mouth turning upward into a little smirk.

“Yes.”

“What if I just break his nose a little?” Now he was full on grinning.

You snorted. “Man, I would pay money to see that! But like I said, I really need this job. And if you do break his nose, even just a little bit, I’m sure as hell getting fired.”

David finally spoke up. “Alright, we won’t cause you any more trouble. Let’s go, boys.”

They all stood up, filing out one by one, each of them sending death stares towards your manager peeking through the kitchen door. You watched their retreating figures through the window for a second longer, already dreading how much more boring your shifts are going to be from now on if they don’t come back.

Out in the parking lot Dwayne turned to David. “We’re going to do something about this, right?”

“Yes, we’re definitely doing something about it.” He sent a smirk to the others, and as they silently communicated down the plan, they began grinning as well. They got on their bikes, and with a lot of heavy revving, they sped off into the night. It was a promise for later.

[tjwritesfanfics]

Sneaky touch (Aaron Hotchner)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hotch is only a man and maybe you should wait until get home to tempt him.

Rating: Mature hinted

Words: 820

Warnings: Turning Aaron on with your foot (did it need warning?? Who knows)

Main Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

AN: I am having way too much fun with @imagining-in-the-margins Friends-with-Benefits challenge. Also, first time writing Hotch!

Dialog Prompt: “What is up with those two lately?” // “They’re sleeping together.” // “Yeah, right. Imagine… wait, seriously?”

Finally the case was over and the whole team wanted to celebrate.

You wanted to celebrate too, drinking with your friends was the best way to wind down after a long and hard case, but you knew something else long and hard you wanted instead.

Aaron and you had been seeing each other in secret (well not totally secret because it was your business and no one else really asked so you didn’t really tell) for a couple months. What went from occasional heated nights in hotel rooms when you were both lonely to passionate nights spent in his apartment when Jack was at a friend’s house to afternoon cuddles and dinner with Jack.

You were basically in a relationship with your boss, but there seemed to be no label on it.

“Here is to another bad guy put away!” Derek raised his beer, everyone meeting it in the middle with an assortment of cheers before downing their own drinks.

Everyone was talking all around you, making jokes at poor Spencer’s attempt with the cop in the last city, though he denied even trying to ‘make a move’ as Derek said. The mood was light and fun, but you could only focus your eyes on Aaron.

He was sipping his drink slowly, eyes fondly looking at the team. You knew he wouldn’t drink more than one drink and probably would leave after, but you were getting impatient and looking at how delicious his hands looked wrapped around the glass was making your thoughts run wild.

You tried to signal him with your eyes, trying to get him to chug and leave with you, but for some reason he continued to not look in your direction. Come on Aaron. You huff, pouting into your drink.

After a few moments of watching him, you got tired of playing nice.

Extending your leg slowly, sliding your foot along Aaron’s pant leg, a smile painting your lips when his eyes snapped to you. His eyebrow quirked up at you, the silent question loud and clear to you.

What are you doing?

You shrug, your foot sliding higher, but turning your attention to Spencer who had whined for your help.

“You saw me and the detective right?”

“I did,” You pressed your foot to Aaron’s crotch, trying not to reach when he couched into his first and waved off David when he asked if he was alright, “And you really could use some pointers in the game of hitting on women.” You turn back to Aaron, smiling now, mischief swirling in your eyes as if daring him to say something when you press your foot a little harder, “Hotchner? Rossi? You guys were married. Any pointers for the poor boy?”

Spencer whines again, his face a red you were unsure he could ever turn, burying his face into his hands begging for this to end while everyone started laughing. Aaron didn’t say anything nor did his eyes leave yours.

“That’s enough, leave the poor boy alone.” Rossi chucked trying to come to Spencer’s aid.

You laugh and wrap your lips around your straw, sipping on your drink, enjoying the feeling of Aaron getting hard under your foot. After all the times he’s had you squirming it was fun to watch him be the one on edge.

Aaron’s eyes never gave anything away, forever the amazing profiler he is, though you could see the slight twitch in his left eye and how his pupils dilated. You could tell how turned on he was just by having your foot pressing into him, how badly he wanted to just take you to the bathroom and have his way with you, but you knew he wouldn’t. Not in the vicinity of his team.

You lifted your eyebrow to dare him to do something, challenging him, and by the way his jaw tightened you knew you were in for one hell of a night.

A shiver runs down your spine watching him down the rest of his drink, placing it quietly on the table, but gripping it so hard that his knuckles were turning white. He was done with your brattiness and you were excited.

“I think I am going to head out for the night.” The table groaned, trying to convince their boss to hang around for a bit longer. “Y/n you said you needed to leave early tonight. Are you ready to go?”

You bite your lip to try and hide your grin (though unsuccessful) nodding your head, gathering your things, biding everyone goodbye before rushing off to follow Aaron who was halfway to the door.

“What is up with those two lately?” Spencer questioned.

Derek chuckled, clamping his hand on Spencer’s back. “They’re sleeping together.”

“Yeah, right. Imagine.” The silence and a smug grin from Rossi was all the answer Spencer needed. “Wait, seriously!?”

“You know, for a genius you really miss a lot of things.”

(Banners by cafekitsune)

[alicewritez]

Gossip - Aaron Hotchner

word count: 1329

summary: you’re a new recruit at the BAU and a firm favourite of Hotch, which has not gone unnoticed by the team. unbeknownst to the team, you and Aaron are in a relationship and are holding another secret; there’s more to what than meets the eye.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

authors note: implied age gap, mentions of student-teacher dynamic, brief mention of pregnancy at the end but nothing too descriptive. it’s just a bit of fun/fluff. feel free to send requests of any criminal minds character you’d like 🩷

You leave Aaron's office after he briefed you on your tasks for the day; still in the probationary period. You're a newly hired profiler and a very clear favourite of Aaron's. You were surprised to hear that everyone thinks of him as a bit of a grump - he's a soft, gentle and kind man underneath the hard and stern exterior.

As you leave his office, everyone turns to look at you and you're flooded with questions. Are you two secretly related? Why does he like you so much? What is going on between the pair of you?

But truthfully, you didn't know yourself, you were just as clueless as the rest of the team. Sure, you could definitely say you harboured a crush for the man, but he had made no attempt to reciprocate those feelings. Not that he really knew about yours anyway.

Derek gives you a gentle nudge, grinning widely as his eyes glisten with mischief and he surprised a laugh. "So, you and Hotch are close?"

You shrug as you sit down at your desk. "I don't know, I suppose so..". Morgan raises an eyebrow at your nonchalant response. "You don't know?"

Penelope chimes in as she weaves her way back through the desks to get to her office. "It's so obvious. You two are clearly close! You're also, like, half his age. How do you know each other?"

You set your files on your desk. "He was one of my teachers back at the FBI Academy."

Both Derek and Penelope's eyes widen at the revelation, not imagining it could have been something as simple as that. David chuckles from his office before moving to stand against the doorframe with his arms folded. "So you're the fresh-faced prodigy we've all been hearing about."

David's smile widens. He knows you're exactly the prodigy the FBI has been boasting about for months. "But it's true, isn't it? You got your Ph.D. at nineteen and you're the youngest person to join the BAU. You were also the youngest to graduate the FBI Academy."

You suck in a breath, "well, you've certainly done your research.. but I only graduated thanks to Hotch..". Derek leans forward, his smile growing wider. "'Hotch', huh? He really is a softie for you, isn't he?"

You furrow your brows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we've all noticed that he's much tamer around you." Penelope chimes in again, her voice full of excitement. "Yes! Much softer, too! I've never seen him smile so often until you joined."

"I think you're reading too much into this. He's probably just being nice because I'm new." You wave them off, making a start on the files piled in your desk.

Spencer, the youngest besides you, looks at you skeptically. Sometimes he could be too smart for his own good. "You're not just any new agent, though. You're a brilliant one. You're smart, talented, gifted, and young. And you're a favourite of our unit chief. Who also happens to be a grumpy, intense man who can be hard to impress. I agree with Derek and Penelope, there must be more to the story."

"Well there really isn't." You sigh as you start writing some notes up. Each member look slightly skeptical at your response, but decide to drop the subject for now, seeing how you wanted to just get on with your work. Once you were done with your notes and reports, you excuse yourself to Hotch’s office, knocking gently on the door.

A few seconds pass before you hear his voice call out. “Come in.”

You slowly step inside and close the door behind you, files in hand. Hotch looks up as he hears the door open and close, looking up at you with a small smile. “Finished with your reports already? Impressive, as always.”

“Yeah but,” you pause, “that’s not the reason I’m here.” Hotch raises an eyebrow as he sets down his pen, giving you his full attention. “Then what is it?”

“The team are figuring it out.” You fiddle with the corners of the files in your hand, while Hotch’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Figured it out? Figured what out?”

“Stop playing dumb Aaron… about us..”

Hotch pauses for a moment at your use of his first name, then a sigh escapes his lips before he rubs a hand over his forehead. “I suppose they’re all talking about it, then.”

“Talk of the office yeah.” You sit down, dropping the files onto his desk with a small thud. “I suppose they were bound to find out we were together sooner or later but, I didn’t think it would be this quick.”

Hotch chuckles softly, his eyes focusing on you. Seeing your worried expression, he stands and walks around the desk to stand in front of you. He takes your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “They’re just being nosey. They’ll get over it and move onto the next bit of gossip soon.”

You sigh, squeezing his hand. “I hope so.” He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, the gesture affectionate and soothing. He knows you don’t like being the constant topic of office gossip. “Hey, look at me.” He tilts your head up gently so that you’re looking directly into his eyes.

You look into his eyes, melting under his touch. He gazes into your eyes and over your face, his expression full of affection. He lifts a hand and tenderly strokes your cheek, his touch sending chills down your spine. “No matter what the others think or say, none of it matters. I chose you. I’ll always choose you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you whisper, “I love you.”

He smiles at your soft admission, his heart swelling with love and affection. He pulls you closer, his arms encircling your waist. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You smile giddily, your arms wrapping around his torso. “You’re being very bold doing this in the office.”

He chuckles, his arms holding you close to him. Despite the risk of someone walking in on the two of you at any moment, he’s too lost in the moment to care. “Can you blame me? It’s my way of showing the others who you belong to.”

You smile softly up at him. “I think we should give them something else to gossip about.” He grins gown at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you have in mind, sweetheart?”

You pull away from him, bringing your hands to rest on your stomach. “We tell them about this.” You and Aaron had found out weeks ago, but chose to keep it quiet for now, not wanting too many to be involved just yet. It was nice that just you and Aaron knew.

His smile widens at your words. He follows the movement of your hands, placing a gentle hand over yours on your stomach. “You think it’s time?”

“We can’t hide it forever.. however much we may want to.” You respond, deep down wanting to keep it to you and Aaron for a while longer, but also knowing the team deserved to know.

He nods, his eyes fixed on the spot where his hand is resting on your stomach. He can’t help but smile wider. “You’re right. But are you ready for all the questions and comments we’re going to get?”

“No, but.. it was all going to come out eventually..”

He nods in agreement, his hand gently caressing your stomach after pulling your hands away. “You’re right. You know, you’re the bravest and most brilliant person I know. Nothing can stop us.” He drops his head down and plants a tender kiss on your forehead, then on your cheek before finally capturing your lips in a loving kiss.

Little did either of you know, the team had all been listening in from outside his office door, hearing every word. But they wouldn’t say anything, they’d let you and Aaron go to them first.

[gghostwriter]

Can I request a Lil fluff with the team (mainly Spence) where the reader had a massive potty mouth (like they're from a country that isn't so harsh about swearing, England, Australia, New Zealand?) But she's all very professional when need be but when talking with the team she's cursing up a storm (maybe the terms "good cunt" and "shit cunt" turn up?

Good cunt means someones great, amazing

Shit cunt meaning well someone's bad) and Spence gets anxious but she reassures him that she's not swearing AT him but more making sure her words hit to where they need to go?

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader Trope: Friends who Flirt (?) ; Fluff just fluff! w.c: 0.9k Warning: CM violence; citizenship inaccuracies idk A/N: Apologies again that this took a while! I am not from Australia so I had to search up some more slangs to use for this. I hope I did it justice and I had fun writing this, Anon! Thank you for requesting 💗 Main masterlist

Down Under. // Spencer Reid

It wasn’t your fault the Americans didn’t have ‘swearing’ programmed in their DNA. It was although your fault why you ended up in the FBI—receiving looks and eyebrow raises from the team—rather than in a bustling city of your homegrown country in the southern hemisphere, Australia. 

But you really couldn’t blame yourself now could you? The idea of giving up your citizenship to be a part of the illustrious BAU was too good to pass up. So you packed your bags, entered the FBI Academy, and passed with flying colors—nearing perfect that David Rossi pulled ranks just to get you in the team even with how green you still were. 

“So what do we have?” you asked, rounding into the conference room with Spencer in tow. 

“Sadly, my precious koala, we have murder,” Penelope answered with the remote in her hand, flashing the photographs of numerous mutilated bodies. “Jacksonville, Florida reported a series of killings over the past month and it’s not looking pretty. Each victim had been dumped in alley ways and all missing a toe.” 

JJ slightly reeled back. “Well, that’s a new type of trophy.” 

“It’s not very common,” Spencer backed up. “Jerome Brudos, ‘the Shoe Fetish Slayer’ is the only known serial killer that kept a foot trophy from his first victim. He was only named as such because of his disturbing foot fetish and collection of women’s shoe catalogs that he considered as pornographic material.” 

“Ah a shit cunt,” you remarked, making Spencer shift on his seat to look at you with inquiry. 

“Y/N,” Emily warned. “Alright, wheels up in thirty.” 

———

The case file was too thin for the team’s liking. How was it that a serial killer with five, possibly six, victims under his belt only had a couple of pages on it and with incomplete identifications and no missing or initial reports done. 

“Emily, is this it?” Luke waved the slim folder up in the air. “I mean, I know the victims were all homeless but damn. Did they even walk and ask around?” 

She sighed. “I called it in and the only reason we were invited is due to the upcoming elections.” 

“Bogan coppers are they? Why doesn’t that surprise me at the least,” you scoffed

“Matt and Luke, you’ll visit the last location of the body—” Emily instructed before turning to the rest of the team. “JJ, coordinate with the media to get them to cooperate. Y/N and Reid, talk to the forensics. Rossi and I will settle base at the station.” 

A series of hums and agreements echoed throughout the compact jet before settling into a lull. 

Spencer shifted on his seat, turning to face you who was busy shifting through the papers. “Hey, in the office you—“ he cleared his throat. “said a phrase, what did it mean?” 

You turned slightly, noting his nervous gaze. “You mean ‘shit cunt’?” 

He nodded. 

“It means someone bad, low life, scum of the earth—wait, you don’t think I meant you, right?” 

“What—no, no!” He sighed, having spied your raised eyebrow. “Well, maybe? I didn’t know what it meant so I don’t know.” 

You giggled. “Spence, if I was going to describe you it would be—pardon my French, good cunt.” 

“For someone so tiny, you sure do curse a lot,” Rossi interjected. 

“What can I say, us from down under just have colorful vocabulary,” you shrugged. 

———

The team was finally back in home base after five days in the sweltering heat of Florida and you couldn’t feel any more tired than this moment as you waited for your sister to come pick you up. Granted you could taken the last train ride home but you just didn’t trust yourself to not miss your stop plus she volunteered so you hastily agreed—never one to say no. 

“I think I’ll wait until your sister arrives for you,” Spencer volunteered, taking your go bag out of your hands. 

“I am an FBI agent, Dr. Reid,” you teased. “Perfectly capable of taking care of myself”

“And I don’t disagree! I’ve seen you take down Luke in training and shoot multiple unsubs but you look dead to your feet.” 

You blushed, grateful that the night made it less obvious. “So are you my knight in shining armor then?” 

He cleared his throat, holding on to your gaze. “I could be.” 

You sucked in a breath. 

The temperature between you suddenly felt hot. Did that mean what you think it meant? Did that mean he liked you too? You opened your mouth to ask but was interrupted by a car halting to a stop in front of you. 

It was your sister, what rotten timing.

“Oh please, stop caking and get in before I get ticketed or better yet make it worth it and just pash already!” She shouted through the rolled down window. 

“Caking? Pash?” Spencer repeated. 

“Well—I have to go. Thanks for keeping me safe, Spence.” 

He stops you on your tracks, holding to your hand. “Wait what do those two words mean?” 

You laughed, squeezing his hand in return, and felt a sudden burst of confidence. “Come find me when you figure it out.” 

With a wink, you left Spencer dumbfounded and dazed on the sidewalk.

Some notes: Bogan - an uncouth or unsophisticated person Coppers - policemen Caking - flirting Pash - passionate kiss

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[glennrheesworld]

i know you write fluff but can you write more angst in this request.

both glenn and y/n are like dating, maybe even married. y/n is doing something when a guy comes and tries to kiss her and glenn comes rescue her.

if this is too much, you dont have to write this. you can ignore it if you want. thank you anyway :3

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮~

genre: angst & fluff pairing: Glenn x f!reader summary: When you think you can't fight any longer, Glenn comes to rescue you. warning: cursing, SA, & mention of blood

a/n: sorry for not posting in months, I've been dealing with some personal stuff in life and it's taken a huge toll on me (not proofread/rushed)

A new survivor, David, had arrived at Alexandria two days ago and his presence did nothing but discomfort you. His eyes were always somewhere else, but your face and his inappropriate comments just made it worse.

Glenn knew about this, you having told him the second time it happened. You didn't want to cause any trouble, so you kept quiet after a while.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Glenn places a hand on your waist and pulls you in to press a chaste kiss on your cheek. “Mm, hey,” you smile at his affection.

You notice the leather gloves he wore, wondering what he was up to. “What are you going to do?” You ask him, pointing at the gloves he wore. His gaze goes down to the gloves, “Oh, I’m going to help Rick and Daryl unload some boxes Aaron found on his run.”

Just as he said that you hear Daryl’s whistle, getting Glenn’s attention as the gates close shut. The truck drove in reverse, backing up with a few boxes loaded in the back.

“Gotta go help now,” he presses another quick kiss on your lips this time, before turning to jog towards the group.

After seeing Glenn get to the others, you turn back to what you had been doing previously; pulling out weeds and dead plants from the little garden you grew. You dig into the moist dirt, carefully pulling out stems and leaves.

You continue doing this for a while before going to the back side of the house, grabbing the hose to rinse your hands.

Glenn and the others had finished unloading the boxes, carrying them to the inside of the church so Gabriel could take care of the rest.

With one hand holding the hose, you rinse the dirt off the other. You do the same thing to the other hand before turning the hose handle off.

The sound of a low whistle gets your attention once you straighten up.

Just as you turn around, you’re met with David. You feel your heart begin to race with nervousness as you spot the smirk plastered across his face; his eyes are filled with something other than friendliness.

“What are you doing all alone, sugar?” He swipes his tongue over his top lip.

“What are you doing here?” You furrow your brows, anger, and frustration washing over you as you glare at him. He wasn’t supposed to be back here.

He lets out a chuckle, a disgusting chuckle. “Aren’t you a feisty one?” He comments, deciding to come closer to you. The look in his eyes makes you shiver as you take a step back, clearly angry.

“Let’s have some fun, baby.”

“Don’t come any closer!” You ordered him, fists tightening at your sides.

David just smirks at the sight in front of him, without doubt enjoying how you looked, all terrified yet willing to fight. “Or what?”

“Or Glenn will fuck you up—” David’s hand pulls your arm, making you tumble flush against his chest. You could smell his nasty sweat and feel the dampness on his shirt.

You pull yourself back, your wrist still in his hand. Adrenaline runs through your body, attempting to swing your free arm at him, only for him to catch it with his other hand.

“Let—” you shake your arms, trying your best to set yourself free, “—go!”

David can’t help but chuckle, turning you around to push you up against the wall of your house. Your shoes squeak on the wet grass, the hose still on the ground.

Your eyes tear up, struggling to get yourself loose from his strong grip. The feeling of not being strong enough hits your guts. David was stronger than you and you know that. Still, something in you wanted to believe it wasn’t true.

And just imagining what he could do to you frighten you to the core.

“Not so strong, are you?”

He taunts you, disgust and fear settling at the pit of your stomach. You didn’t want to cry but hot tears were already beginning to spill. You could feel your vision blur as you turned your head away, not wanting to see his monstrous face.

David presses his body against yours, trapping your legs so that kicking isn’t an option. You tremble, your strong act now gone. “Please, stop!”

With quivering lips, you shake your head as his face is close to your neck, inhaling like a creep. You shut your eyes in fear, praying he would get off you.

His free hand slithers down to your leg as he then grasps your thigh. He gives it a rough squeeze before letting out a vicious chuckle. A laugh that makes your skin prick with goosebumps.

“Heh, I can’t believe I finally have you all to myself.”

He’s suddenly yanked back by his shoulder, someone turning him around. “What the fuck—” A harsh punch shuts him up quickly, enough to make him tumble back. Blood drips down onto the grass as David brings his trembling hands to cover his nose and mouth.

David lifts his gaze from the mess in his hands to Glenn. His eyes widened with fear and before he could say any dumb excuse, Glenn lunged at him.

You take a step back, face wet with hot tears still spilling.

“You piece of shit!” Glenn is on top of David, fisting the collar of his shirt as he throws punches at David’s face. It’s not long before Glenn’s fists are covered in blood. David’s face, on the other hand, is fucked up. Badly.

David grunts on the ground, unable to keep up with defending himself. Some people hear the commotion and soon Rick comes to stop it. He grabs Glenn and pulls him off David, the grass splattered with red specks.

Glenn stumbles back, eyes trained on a badly injured David. David’s nose looked broken, blood coming out his nose. His face was just stained with his own red fluid and with a couple of yellow-greenish marks.

You watched the whole scene unfold in front of you, a trembling hand covering your mouth. What just happened made it way more difficult to process. Your mind was racing, and the tears kept spilling.

Rick was trying to calm down Glenn, who was trying so hard not to lunge at David again. The look on David’s face was clear as day; he fully regretted what he did.

“Lay your hands on my wife again and I’ll kill you!” Glenn snarls at David, full of emotion. Within a few seconds later, Glenn is in front of you, eyes softened. And badly injured David is taken to the infirmary.

He holds himself back from touching you, afraid that he might frighten you. Worry is written all over his face, his eyes searching your tear-stained face. “Love?”

His voice is gentle.

Your lips quiver before you wrap your arms around him. He lets out a shaky sigh as you weep into his embrace. And he begins to tear up.

He tightens his hug, burying your face into his shoulder as he rests his cheek on top of your head.

Although you were shattered by what you experienced earlier, you were a bit more eased to know Glenn would always be there for you.

[ebony-blood]

Poly!The Lost Boys x Reader 

Warnings/AN: They’re a packaged deal, ofc you’re getting all four. Yandere/obsessive stuff because they’re just like that. I tried to be as gender-neutral as possible, lemme know if I need to fix anything.

You have been in Santa Carla for about a year now, you wanna know how long it took for the boys to fall for you? 2 months

Paul fell first, bro spent a whole 2 hours daily rambling to Marko about how much he loved you, how perfect you were in his eyes, how cute you were…

Gender doesn’t matter to these rat bastards, you’re still Paul’s Cutie

Marko fell next, listening to Paul rant about your utter perfection, thus, he started believing you were an angel, literally an angel.

And that’s when the two boys started stalking you, following you around the boardwalk and practically growling at anyone that approached, male, female, whatever

Paul practically has heart eyes every time he sees you, every single time.

Dwayne is next, and he falls WAY harder than the other two

Mr. Tall, dark and handsome over here will follow you home daily, he waits for nightfall and comes out to see you, when he’s not with his brothers, he’s around you.

He may as well be lying on a bed, writing in a notebook about how much he loves you, giggling and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl

So, the three that AREN’T David fall in love with you in two months, David followed shortly behind, and only a month after Dwayne fell, David was fucking INFATUATED.

He has it BAD, like, god, it’s even worse than his brothers.

Eventually, all four of the boys decide they wanna talk to you, and goddammit the minute you open your mouth they’re even more in love with you. 

And so, they start leaving you anonymous gifts, roses, jewelry, Marko paints for you, anything they can think of, they’ll steal it and leave it on your porch. 

It took a few months, but when you realized they were giving you the gifts, you started hanging out with them more, and soon, you were taken to the cave.

They loved you, obviously.

It took almost no time for you to fall for their silly personalities, and that was when they knew they had you.

They became protective, but not outwardly obsessive.

At least, you thought so. 

After they started dating you, they started getting worse in their stalking.

They had a system, every other week, sometimes months between instances, one of them would silently stalk you, keeping hidden in the dark, and one or two of them would pretend to bump into you when you start freaking out.

You were always too freaked out to ask how they were there.

You found out they were vampires when you caught them killing and feeding on a guy who had been actually stalking you. You were freaked out at first.

Eventually, David managed to calm you, promising they would never hurt or kill you.

Now that we’re past all the meetings, falling, stalking, and so on, here’s the actual cute stuff. 

Paul and Marko

These rat fucks are literally never not by your side. 

They bite you, randomly grab you, kiss you, just whenever they want, it doesn’t matter. 

Both boys steal things from you, all the time

Clothes, blankets, stuffed animals, books, your perfume/cologne/body spray, makeup if you wear it, whatever they can get their hands on, it’s with them.

You slowly start noticing them wearing your clothes, your perfume/cologne/body spray, and you ask about it. They always deny having it.

If you wear it, they put on your lipstick or lipgloss before they kiss you, because they think it's funny. 

Paul started trying to get you to smoke with him. 

Marko paints you like constantly, and anytime he catches you watching or looking at him, he has the most lovestruck and goofy look on his face.

Both fantasize about you 24/7 and just bounce stuff off of each other. 

They definitely bite you the most

65% of the bitemarks on you are from them, and 35% are from the other two boys.

Cuddle you the most.

Tease you the most

Teasing nips are greetings to them

Both have very little consistency in pet names for you, they just pick whatever.

Dwayne

The sweetest, and the biggest stalker ever.

Bro follows you around constantly. 

He doesn’t allow you to ride on the back of Paul and Marko's bikes, it's either him or David.

Holds your hands all the time

Gives you his jacket all the time.

You get cold? Take his jacket. Getting outta the ocean after Paul tossed you in? Take his jacket.

Smiles every time he sees you. 

Also takes your perfume/cologne/body spray, sprays himself down, and snuggles into clothes you wear he stole when he wanted to snuggle with you.

Acts totally normal around you but is a giggly schoolgirl when talking about you with the boys.

Brings you food and drinks daily, if he doesn’t know if you’ve eaten, you bet your ass he’s bringing you food.

About 15% of your bites are from him. 

Constantly makes sure you care for yourself.

Not into PDA but will hold your hands daily.

Bro has a mix of songs that reminds him of you.

Calls you stuff like Darling and Honey, he just gives those vibes.

David

OHHHH DEAR GOD-

David is worse than Dwayne, Marko, and Paul combined.

Stalks you, constantly, and he always makes sure you know he’s there.

Sassy, sarcastic, an asshole, we know this, but this carries over to you too.

Bro sasses you all the time.

Dude treats you like he treated Star, bro will just stare at you, if you don’t respond or do as he’s implying, he just calls your name again, and again, until he eventually just snaps in your face, not shouting, but literally snapping.

Nips at your ears, neck, and shoulders

Teases you, all the time, constantly for no reason. Like if you trip bro is laughing and he doesn’t even help your ass up. 

He does care though, he loves you so SO much.

The dude actually takes his damn gloves off to touch you sometimes! That NEVER happens!

Isn’t into PDA, at all, his hands stay securely in your back pockets or with his fingers through your belt loops, you are not leaving his side, if he isn’t around you bet your ass you’re sticking with Dwayne.

Will randomly give you things, Bro gave you one of his old tee shirts and he gets very pouty if you don’t wear it around.

He is not a sweet boy, but also a sweet guy, if you wear down his walls and wiggle your way into his heart, you will NEVER leave.

He’s terrified of being alone, if you leave for even a second, the man almost melts down. 

Calls you stuff like Babe, Baby, and Doll, doll is used no matter your gender, he won’t stop.

One more because our first one for Davie here also brings you food but fucks with you like he did with Micheal. He does keep extras if you actually freak out about it but after a certain point in your time with the boys, you start leaning into the goofiness. 

All four of them

Only a few here.

The boys are cuddlers, if they stay with you in your house, (You have blackout curtains) they are wrapped around you, Paul and Marko are damn well laying on top of you.

Will scream at any bastard on the boardwalk that even LOOKS at you wrong.

They fight anyone at all, for any reason, for everything, at all for you.

These nerds rant about everything they love, David will scream about how much he loves Billy Idol at any time, Marko talks about art all the damn time, Paul will just rant about how fucking much he loves guitarists like Mick Mars, Ace Frehley, and Eddie Van Halen, and Dwayne talks about books. All four always have stars in their eyes when talking, it's so cute. 

The rats started rubbing off on you, you’re crazy now, you ride bikes, and you yell, and scream with all of the boys.

When they do turn you, it amplifies by 20.

Your favorite activity is hanging off the bridge with the boys and biking. 

You eventually get your own, they were hesitant, but eh.

They love biking with you, and then you all either hang from the wood beams while sleeping or snuggle up in your bed and sleep peacefully. You wearing one of their jackets of course.

[triplefrontierbabe]

Saying ‘I love you’ for the first time

summary: you say ‘I love you’ for the first time

pairing: f! reader x Max Verstappen, Oscar Piastri, David Malukas and Alexander Rossi

warnings: none, just love

words: 1.3k

a/n: this is the second part of @bernelflo request! I went a different route aside from texts for this one. I might’ve gotten carried away writing some… hope you enjoy!🫶

Max Verstappen

You and Max have been friends for quite some time now. He’s been your best friend for as long as you can honestly remember. You’ve seen him grow up in the world of motorsports. And despite your different lives, you did your absolute best to support him in whichever way you could.

It was after Max won Zandvoort in 2023 when he finally made his move to ask you out. The question simple and your answer of yes, a no brainer. That night was filled with celebrations both of his win and your newfound relationship.

There was no doubt that after half the season that Max’s chances of becoming a two time world champion were very high.

Abu Dhabi came around faster than the cars itself. The season full of highs nearing a close. It was bittersweet but you were ready to have Max to yourself.

In the blink of an eye, Max won. You were so ecstatic. Jumping around the garage hugging anybody who walked your way. Once Max’s car pulled to a stop and he jumped out, he was immediately ambushed by everyone at Oracle Red Bull Racing. He swiftly made his way through the dense crowd to find you; full of happy tears.

“You did it Max!” You exclaimed hugging him as tight as can be. He was still in shock as he looked at your face, studying it in a way almost to figure out which emotion he should feel first.

You pulled away from him, his hands still wrapped around your waist.

“I love you.” You said tenderly. “I really love you.”

Shocked, again was Max’s expression.

You both had said ‘I love you’ before but in the sense of friendship. But this time, this ‘I love you’ was different. It was the only way you could say those words to another from now on. And it meant the absolute world.

Oscar Piastri

Hungary 2024 was going to hell in a hand basket or so it seemed for the McLaren Team. Oscar finally got his maiden win under not so optimal circumstances. Tensions were high between him, Lando and all other members of the team.

He won, plain and simple. But Oscar couldn’t seem to really enjoy the win.

After the podium celebration, you finally got to really see Oscar.

You hugged him tightly as his arms wrapped around you. He said nothing but his mind was saying everything.

“I’m proud of you,” you began “you know that, right?”

He exhaled and took a step back.

“Yeah.” He said in the most defeated tone you had ever heard.

“You got your first win, Osc. I am so proud of you. You fought hard out there, and you won.” You said looking at him trying to meet his gaze while he looked everywhere else but you.

“Hey.” You said grabbing his face with your hand and turning it towards you.

He finally looked at you, his sad eyes breaking your heart just a little bit.

“I love you.”

His eyes widened just a little bit. Since you had only been dating for a handful of months, the “opportune” moment to say those words hadn’t presented itself yet. Not until today.

Oscar’s determination had always been evident, but his humility often went unseen by others but not you.

“I do love you. More than words can describe.” You said as you tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear.

“Really?” He said in an exasperated tone, as if he didn’t believe you. “Even after all this?”

“Even more so, especially after this.”

David Malukas

Ever since you and David started dating, you had weekly movie nights every Friday evening. David would cook dinner or, more often than not, order something out.

The two of you rotated weeks on choosing the movie of the night. It was never an issue given the fact that your favorite movie genres were practically identical.

However, after the eventful day you had at school today, all you wanted to do was watch your favorite movie that you’ve seen at least a handful of times already with David. Disney’s live action Cinderella was all you could think of.

Princess movies was the one genre that David wasn’t too enthused about, he’d much rather watch an action movie or thriller over a fairytale. But, due to your short worded texts throughout the day and the tired sound of your voice over the phone, he knew that his movie choice of the week would be in favor of you.

The moment you arrived at David’s place, you were on the verge of tears. You were tired and exhausted from the amount of tests you had taken that day due to midterms. As soon as David opened his door, tears started falling down your face.

“Woah, babe, what’s wrong?” He said ushering you quickly inside. No words fell from your mouth, just silent sobs. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head as he held you in a tight embrace.

After a moment, you escaped his grasp and flopped down onto the couch face first. He sat down beside you rubbing your back soothingly.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want. We can just go ahead and play Cinderella.” He said as he reached for the tv remote.

Your head whipped up from the couch cushions and towards him then towards the tv where he already had the movie cued up to play.

“Oh I love you.” You said before bursting into tears again.

David maneuvered you into a cuddling position before pressing play on the movie.

“I love you too.” He said.

To be loved is to be known.

Alexander Rossi

“Alex I’m heading to the store, do you need anything?” You yelled from downstairs.

You were cooking dinner tonight for the two of you and needed to grab a few things from the grocery store before cooking.

You walked up the stairs and into his office where he was preparing to record a podcast episode with James.

“Um, let me think.” Alex said leaning back in his chair wracking his brain to see if he needed anything.

“Oh, could you get some fruit so I can make a fruit salad?” He asked looking up at you.

“Yeah, I already got that on the list.” You said, smiling while holding up the shopping list and pointing to the fruit you wrote down.

“You’re the best, thank you.” He said to you, hugging your waist.

You stood there for a moment and ran your hand through his hair. It was intimate moments like these that made your heart swell. With a few months of being together under your belts, domestic tasks such as making dinner together or just being in each other’s presence came to you both like second nature.

“What are you guys talking about today?” You asked motioning towards Alex's computer.

“Honestly, I have no clue aside from last week’s race.” Alex said laughing. “Whatever Hinch and Thim throw at me I guess?”

You nodded, basking in the stillness of the moment.

“Well, I’m gonna head out now.” You said while bending down to give Alex a kiss.

“Okay, I’ll see you later. I should be done by the time you get back.”

“Sounds good.” You said stepping away from him and making your way to the door. “See ya later, I love you.”

By the time your words registered in Alex’s mind, you were already down stairs and heading out the door. You hadn’t even realized what you had said. It came out so naturally from you, there wasn’t a need to have a second thought about it.

And, unbeknownst to you, James joined the video call just in time to hear it and see Alex’s shocked face.

That night, Alex made sure to return the words, as they were genuine.

Check out my Masterlist

[aimedis]

david & angel headcanons 🐺👼

"oh angel.. my angel..."

david and angel are always touching each other's hands. especially angel who uses them to fidget when they're struggling to focus

angel doesn't usually call david "david" unless they're angry

david doesn't call angel by their name either

angel loves playing with david's hair

their song is perfect by ed sheeran (duhh)

angel likes to straddle david, like sitting on his hips with their hands on his chest and david likes it too

angel stands on their tippie toes to kiss david on the forehead and david thinks it’s endearing as shit

david loves resting his head on angel's chest almost as much as he loves their head on his

angel is the second oldest of five siblings and they all love david

angel's parents love david even more. they gave him the paternal relationship that he's been missing since his dad died even though he can't really tell them everything about him

angel used to have an eat1ng dis0rder. they are recovered but they sometimes still struggle with eating. david is always there to help him (rubbing their back, feeding them, encouraging them, distracting them etc.)

angel paints their nails often and david always picks the colour. he's very particular about it as well, making sure they don't use the same colour as last time and that the colour compliments their skin tone

they cut each other's hair at home

angel gets the biggest smile on their face whenever david introduces them as his mate

they are both ticklish so they chase each other around the house tickling each other (david uses it to get angel out of bed, angel uses it because they think they're hilarious)

angel is hands down the funniest person david knows

david never sleeps well if angel is away from home. if they haven't called him before bed, he doesn't sleep at all

angel is highkey obsessed with david. they always look for him in a crowd, they're always texting him, always talking or thinking about him

angel sing-songs "daveyyyy" whenever he's working or cooking and they're coming to bother him

david is lowkey obsessed with angel. he's also always talking to or about them, thinking about them, and spinning his wedding band around his finger when he misses them

whenever angel needs reassurance, david would always give it to them with the softest voice ever heard from him

david's love language is gift giving (and physical touch) and angel expects a new trinket or something from him at least three times a month

angel's love language is physical touch (and words of affirmation) and they just always know when he needs a pick-me-up cuddle or pep talk

angel writes david mini-love letters every few days and slip them in his jacket pocket

david introduced angel to his dad's grave after their one year anniversary. they both cried a lot

angel is such a crybaby when it comes to david being nice to them

when they argue, it's used to always be about david being unnecessarily rude and angel being invasive

now, they can argue about literally anything if they're heated enough

angel starts acting like david when they're fighting or just angry in general and two davids having an argument doesn't usually end well

their arguments end up as screaming matches more often than not but they don't really say things they don't mean anymore

they make up as soon as there's the slightest silence

"what are we arguing about again?" "i don't remember. want ice cream?"

the serious arguments aren't usually screaming battles, they do generally speak to each other calmly and respectfully when they're genuinely concerned about an issue

they have never slept separately (one in the bed, one on the couch) even when they're angry at each other

they don't go to sleep angry (at each other or otherwise)

angel got david flowers first in the relationship (they get each other flowers but david does it more)

angel has every single flower david has gotten them dried in a several scrapbooks

angel used to be simultaneously worried about being too much to handle and not enough for anyone in their life. the feeling eventually faded because they see the way david looked and continues to look at them

david thrives off of knowing how flustered he makes angel with no effort (he looks into their eyes for a second too long and their face flushes/they smile nervously and turn away)

angel does like working out with david a lot of the time though they have a lower endurance than david does so he helps them through their sets (david is their number one supporter)

david can tell when angel is in a bad mood within seconds, he can just feel it

during the solstice is one of the rare moments where angel will cook for david (they just spend the whole day taking care of him and cuddling him)

david covers angel’s face for them when they yawn in public. he also does it when they make questionable faces or if they start crying around other people, he’ll cover their face for them. (he does it so often that angel doesn’t think to do those things on their own anymore when david’s not around)

david never hesitates to pull angel closer whenever they flinch even a little

david always needing to slap angel’s ass before either of them leave to go anywhere (he slaps it hella hard if they’re caught off guard and taps it if they’re just moving to another room)

angel acts overly sweet and cringy to david on purpose in public to embarrass/annoy him (david does it to them in private so they feel how embarrassing it is) 

-angel holds and tugs onto david’s sleeves absentmindedly a lot (not for his attention most of the time just because they’re comfortable) 

whenever david says something “girly” or “online terminology”, angel always says “someone cooked here 🤨”. (it was them, they cooked here)

angel shaves david's face for him when they have a little extra time in the morning

david shaves whatever part of angel's body they usually shave as well

they love waking up at the same time in the morning because getting ready together is the best part of their day

they love showering together, not even sexually they just like being close to each other at all times

david often says "love you too" without the "i" just to piss angel off

david squeezes angel's cheeks all the time

angel thinks a jealous david is the funniest thing in the world because he's literally just sulking in a corner

david thinks a jealous angel is sexy because he thinks they're hot when they're mad

angel gets more jealous than david but only slightly. they know their man is hot and they see the looks his gets

they have resorted to straight up making out with him in public just to stake their claim. david is a freak and enjoys it

david sees angel talking to someone that's not him and he starts pouting (glaring). angel teases him about it all the time and he just grumbles into their neck

angel used to be a (contemporary) dancer and they do dramatically exaggerative revamps of their old routines in front of david to be funny (he laughs every time)

angel flexes being a shaw all the time, david flexes just being married

whenever angel is unable to play their favourite games for whatever reason, david will play it for them

they both spend an egregious amount of money on each other (especially with their wedding gifts to each other)

david never lets angel pay for anything if it's not a gift for him (angel hasn't touched a bill in five years)

angel gives their little siblings a lot of money all the time and when asked why, they say "i have a husband, i don't need it"

[strang3lov3]

Downpour

Jack offers you a ride home, pulls over to wait out the storm, and fucks you. (4k)

Tags - smut, fingering, oral (f! receiving) hand jobs, unprotected piv, infidelity (Jack is married still), dirty talk, pet names (darling, sweetie, sweetheart, dear), unspecified age gap, kissing, finger sucking, bit of comeplay/come eating, reader has a bush but is otherwise undescribed #bushnation, Jack is all sweet and tender but kinda pervy too, i've headcannoned that mr. delroy is a man who comes a lot. like just so much come. references to late night with the devil but this fic can be understood without watching the movie, I write car sex uniquely in that I am not bound by physics or logic or any bullshit like that. So it’s like a Mary Poppins bag in there. Lots of room for fucking. No, don’t ask questions. Shhh. Don’t worry about it. Fic Help - @noxturnalpascal thanks for your help sweetheart ♡ i love you forever A/N - the David Dastmalchian brain worms infected me months ago and have not let me rest, so here’s this. Car sex with an older and married Jack Delroy.

I feel a little nervous about writing Jack, as I feel with all characters that are new to me. It takes me some time to find my groove. Kind comments would be appreciated 💕 maybe a prompt or two in the inbox for me to play around with if you wanna see more of him 🙏

  As Night Owls comes to a close for the evening, and laughter and chatter begin to fade out, you busy yourself tidying up your station. Cleaning your makeup brushes, packing away your supplies for the weekend. You watch the television in your room and see Jack waving goodbye, shaking audience members’ hands. He’s so handsome tonight. He’s handsome every night.

You’ve been working as a makeup artist on Night Owls for about a year now. It’s a job you kind of stumbled your way into. You had won a raffle ticket to watch Night Owls live show. You were so excited to go and yet you don’t even remember who the guest was that night. You went alone, and found yourself charmed by the show’s host, Jack Delroy. While on commercial break, while the television crew changed the set, you noticed Jack glancing at you as you touched up your makeup, fidgeting and tapping his foot. You offered him a kind smile, and he approached you. 

“Jack Delroy,” he said, holding out his hand. You took it, and he kissed the backs of your fingertips. Starstruck, you giggled and gave him your name, tripping over the syllables. “Beautiful name, darling.”

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy.” 

Jack held your hand longer than what was appropriate. Realizing this, he quickly dropped it. “So, I apologize, but I'm about to be very forward. Gosh, this is very embarrassing,” he laughed awkwardly, then scratched the back of his neck. “I get a little oily in the face. The lights, you know. You wouldn’t happen to have like, a…” he trailed off, stuttering as he tried to find the right words.

You smiled and held up a finger, then dug through your makeup bag for some Mary Kay Beauty Blotter sheets your friend had given you. “Here.” You held the pack sheets out for the handsome talk show host. “Would these help?”

Jack took the sheets from you and inspected them. 

“And this,” you added, handing him your mirror compact. “You just press one of the sheets against your skin.” 

Jack grinned kindly, then took one of the small sheets and pressed it on his forehead and his long, gorgeous nose. “You are a lifesaver,” he said. “There. This is much better. I’m almost as pretty as you now, huh?”

Your cheeks warmed and you looked down at your lap to hide your smile. 

“Apologies, I’ve been told I'm a chronic flirt.” 

“I don’t really mind,” you told him softly.

Jack pressed his lips together in a smile and nodded, then sat in the empty seat next to you. “Alright,” he said, “This is an odd question,  but I’d like to toss it out there anyway because you seem to know what you’re doing with this kind of stuff. We’re short a makeup artist here at Night Owls. It’s unorthodox, I know, but you wouldn’t happen to be interested in–”

You gasp. “I’d love to. Yes.”

“--Being our makeup artist,” Jack finished, chuckling at your excitement. 

“Sorry, I just - oh god, I’d really love to,” you gushed. Jack opened his mouth to speak further, but was called back to set. 

“Stick around after the show, will you?” Jack winked.

“I will, Mr. Delroy.” 

And that’s how it happened. The job was simple: A little powder here, moisturizer there, hairspray to seal it all off. Nothing complicated, and it paid well. Lots of perks and advantages, like meeting TV stars and music artists. You consider yourself lucky. 

Perhaps your favorite part of the job is getting Jack ready for his shows. You’re no stranger to his handsomeness, but it’s special to experience it the way you do. To wash his face, moisturize it, paint a little makeup on his skin - as if he even needs it. “Make sure you cover up my crows feet, please, darling,” Jack said, pointing to his perceived flaws in the mirror. “Gosh, I’m getting so old. Don’t get old.” 

“Noted,” you told him. 

“And my hair, could you use a bit of that makeup to cover up my grays? They look so much worse on the screen.” 

Your heart broke a little. He’s always asked you to cover his wrinkles, but covering his grays was new. You hate doing it. That’s your least favorite part of the job. 

“Oh, but they don’t look so bad, Mr. Delroy.” You combed your fingers through his hair, inspecting the silvery strands he complained about. They look so beautiful against the inky black rest of his hair.

“Jack,” he corrected. “Just Jack. Who says they don’t look so bad?”

“I um…” you hummed, nervously messing with his hair. “Just fans, some of your fans kind of like it.” 

“Do they, now?” Jack teased, his eyebrow cocked. He laughed at your bashfulness as you stuttered something in defense. So shy, so sweet.

Jack loves you all the same. He loves the special affection he gets from you as you get him ready each night, he loves getting to peek down your shirt. But he plays the gentlemanly act well, never going further than a little harmless flirting. It’s fun to make you squirm, tease you for your little crush on him. He’s not oblivious to it. 

When the Night Owls theme finally ends and the studio lights go out, you get a phone call at your station. You hold the receiver up to your ear. “Hello?” 

“It’s Shar,” the voice says. Sharon is your roommate, and also your ride to and from work most nights. She drops you off at the studio before her shift, then picks you up after the show ends each night. Tonight, however, she’s at a party. “I met this guy, and I wanna go home with him. So that means…” Sharon doesn’t finish the sentence. She sounds guilty. 

“But you’re my ride, Shar,” you complain. “And they’re saying it’ll rain. What am I gonna do?”

“I promise I’m gonna make it up to you, okay? Don’t be mad. You’re not mad.” 

“Sharon,” you groan. 

Sharon says your name. “Just listen - he’s so fucking hot, seriously. He’s like a movie star.”

“A movie star, huh?” 

“Don’t judge. Like you wouldn’t fuck Jack Delroy if you could. You know what, why don’t you ask him for a ride?” Sharon teases.

“No way, not happening. He’s married, and his wife is sick. Absolutely not.” 

“Pussy.” Sharon pauses. “If you really don’t have another way home, I’ll come get you.” 

“No, no. It’s fine. I can take the bus, I guess. But you owe me.”

“I do owe you,” Sharon says, “I owe you so much. I love you. Bye. Be safe.” 

“You be safe,” you quip. “Condoms.” 

Honestly, you’re not mad. Is it an inconvenience, sure. But Sharon works hard and deserves a nice night, and she’s right - you’d fuck your movie - television - star crush if you could too. You’ve taken the bus before, and it’s usually empty this time of night. It’ll be fine. 

You grab your purse, pull your knit cardigan over your torso and walk out of the studio, down the hall, then take the elevator down to the lobby. Through light rain, you walk down the street until you’re at a bus station, then sit down on the bench. A gust of wind nearly knocks you over, causing you to shiver and pull your cardigan tighter around your body as you wait for the bus. 

At least you don’t have to wait for long, though. Headlights approach, and the vehicle slows down. Except, it’s not the bus you were expecting. It’s a cerulean ‘74 Buick Electra, Jack’s car. He pulls over and leans across the seat to crank the window down. “What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Waiting for the bus,” you yell. Rain’s starting to come down harder, now, soaking your clothes. Jack makes a face and motions for you to get into his car. You wave him off, “It’s okay. It shouldn’t be much longer.” 

“Nonsense! Get in the car.” 

“It’s really okay, Mr. Delroy.”

Jack rolls his eyes. He gets out of his car and rounds the front of it, then takes your hand and pulls you up from the bench. “I’m not asking. I am telling you, as your boss, to get in my car.” 

Jack opens the passenger door and ushers you inside, then shuts your door and gets into the driver’s seat. “It’s supposed to be the storm of the century out there, and you’re gonna let it blow you right away. Crazy girl.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Delroy,” you murmur sheepishly. 

Jack puts the car into first gear and takes off. “What’ve I told you about calling me Mr. Delroy? Jack, sweetie. Just Jack.” 

“I’m sorry, M- Jack.”

“Too sweet for your own good, you know that? Always so polite. Where am I taking you, sweetheart?”

“It’s a little bit far. You’re just gonna take this road for a while,” you instruct. “And then I’ll tell you where to turn. I’m not in the city proper.”

“Must be nice,” Jack replies. “Quiet.” 

You shrug. “Sometimes. Not usually. My roommate is kind of noisy.” 

Jack chuckles. “The roommate days, gosh. I don’t miss those a bit.” He pauses, thinks of something to say to fill the silence. “You don’t usually take the bus, do you?”

“Not usually, no,” you answer. “My roommate gives me a ride most of the time. But she ditched me tonight, so…” 

“That’s a real shame.” 

The rain starts to pick up a little more. Jack squints and at the road and increases the speed of his windshield wipers. He tries talking to you, but you can’t hear him over the drumming of rain against his car. Thunder booms, the drumming becomes louder and the windshield is nearly impossible to see out of. Jack has slowed the car down to a crawl, but when hail begins to fall from the sky, he pulls over. He shifts his car into neutral, then pulls the emergency brake to keep the car from rolling. Jack leans in close so you can hear him, “We’re just gonna wait out the storm, okay? It’s not safe to keep driving.” 

“Yeah, that seems smart,” you agree. You’re thankful Jack showed up when he did, and that he’s keeping you safe in his car. If you listen closely, you can hear the faint sound of music playing on his stereo. You still feel a little nervous, though. Maybe it’s the storm, or the jitters of being alone with Jack - older, married, handsome Jack. You shiver in your wet cardigan. 

“You’re cold,” Jack says. He tugs on your sweater, “Let’s get this off of you, huh? Not gonna let you catch a cold on my watch.” He peels the sweater off of you entirely, then lays it in his backseat. “And look, watch this–” Jack presses a button on his dashboard, a little orange light glows beneath the tiny image of a seat. Within a few seconds, the leather underneath you begins to warm. “Neat, huh? That should warm you up nicely.”

You still look cold, it’s evident in the way you hold yourself. Shoulders curled inward, hands clasped together. Jack thinks about holding you close, using his body to warm yours, but decides against it. You want it too, but you’ll never initiate touch. 

You look out of the raindrop-covered window at the creepy woods off to the side, the trees illuminated by the lightning. Jack sees the worry on your face reflected on the glass. “Everything alright, sweetie?”

“It’s just the woods,” you answer. “I don’t know. I don’t like it. I’ve heard about…I don’t know. Scary stuff happens there.”

“Like what?”

“Satanic rituals or something. The occult, that kind of stuff. I’ve heard about it on TV.”  

Jack lies to assure you, “It’s all make-belive,” he says, pushing down his own memories of The Grove. The sickly sweet smell of decaying leaves, sticks and branches crunching beneath his feet. The cold, metallic cup against his lips, that awful taste of whatever it is he drank. “But don’t look at the woods. Just look over here, right at me.” Jack turns your face toward his, then taps your nose. “There’s that beautiful smile.” 

You grin even wider. You know it’s just his nature, that it’s his job to be charming and likable, charismatic and sweet. It makes you feel so special and seen nonetheless. 

Jack smiles too. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” He admires the details in your face for a minute, your perfect nose, sparkling eyes, your pretty lips. His eyes travel lower, tracing the endlessly beautiful curves of your body - breasts, waist, hips, thighs. There’s a rip up high on your nylons, just below your ridden-up skirt. He furrows his brows and touches your bare skin with his finger, “What happened here?”

“Oh.” You touch the tear with your finger, just a hair away from Jack’s. “My cat, Felix. He ripped my tights.” 

“Sounds like Felix is a real troublemaker, huh?”

��Oh, he can be,” you giggle quietly. “But I love him anyway.” 

Jack keeps his finger on the hole in your nylons, now drawing lines back and forth over your thighs with the rest of his fingers. Little goosebumps erupt on your skin in their wake. “You’re still so cold, darling. What am I gonna do with you?” Another shrug, another shy smile. “Come here,” Jack whispers. He wraps his strong hands around your legs and pulls you across the seat so that your legs are lying across his, and your torso curled into his own. Fuck, he smells good. His cologne is musky and spicy and masculine. You’re so close, Jack can feel your heart pounding nervously. But he says nothing about it, doesn’t want to embarrass you. Instead, Jack just gazes at you warmly, still tracing patterns on your leg. “You’re such a gorgeous girl, have I ever told you that?”  He pushes a bit of your hair behind your ear, sending tingles down your neck and spine.

“Jack,” you whisper, elongating his name. “Stop it.”

“I’m serious, darling. If only I were a younger man…If I hadn’t married…” He moves his hand from your ear to your mouth, pulling down on your bottom lip with his thumb. God, you’re so soft. Desire is building within Jack, taking control over his sensibilities. And you, too young and enchanted by Jack fucking Delroy to listen to any inhibitions in your head telling you that you should stop this.

 Jack pushes his thumb past your lips and you suck on it gently, so gently, the blunt little edges of your teeth tickling his fleshy skin. Arousal quickly builds in Jack, the sensation overwhelming him and bubbling over. He pulls his thumb from your mouth and holds your cheeks in both of his hands, inching closer to you bit by bit. Jack licks his lips, he’s about to do it. Finally, he does. Jack closes the gap between you by pressing his lips against yours, kissing you softly. He’s relaxed and controlled, but the way you kiss him is desperate and a little tentative. In time and with encouragement from Jack, how he squeezes you and growls against your lips, you find your confidence. You kiss him fervently, tasting him, savoring the softness of his tongue. 

Jack takes your hand and presses it against his warm bulge. You gasp, “But your wife–”

“Shh, quiet. She’s not here, now is she?” 

“N-no,” you stutter.

“No. It’s just us. You-” Jack unzips his pants and pulls his rock-hard cock out of his boxers. He spits into your palm and has you hold his length, then closes his hand around yours. “-And me.” 

With your hand under Jack’s, he pumps his cock. “Oh, that’s good. You’re my good girl,” he breathes. 

Jack grips his cock tighter and kisses you again. “Oh, Jack,” you moan. Jack helps you to stroke him from base to tip, your pinky finger brushing against that patch of coarse hair at his pelvis, thumb rubbing over his weeping head. 

“Just like this, darling. All the way up, all the way down. Just like this. You’re doing so well.” 

Jack twitches in your hand as you feel every thick vein and ridge on his cock. He urges you to pump him faster and at the same time, touches you. He gropes your breasts first, breasts he’s dreamed of touching since he first laid eyes on you. He unbuttons your blouse and slides his hand beneath your bra to squeeze your flesh, tease your nipples. Jack relishes in your body, how supple, soft, warm and wanting you are. You touch him like you love him and Christ, Jack can’t wait to bury himself inside you. Feel that warm, wet embrace of a young woman’s cunt. 

“Do you let other men touch you like this, sweetheart?” Jack asks, unzipping your skirt and shoving his hand down the front of your nylons. He toys with the arousal-dampened hair that’s spattered on your mound, then slips his fingers past your lips. “Older men, huh? Married men?” 

“N-no, Jack. Just you. Only you.”

“Do you like being touched like this?” You stutter out a frantic, breathy ‘yes’. “Dirty girl. It’s always girls like you.” 

Jack circles your clit with his fingertips, then presses two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. “Distracted, are we?” he murmurs as your hand that strokes his cock slows to a still, so focused on how Jack pleasures you that you forget about his needs.

 “H - what?” Jack chuckles and gives your hand a squeeze to remind you. “Oh, I’m s - sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” God, you are such a precious girl, and Jack is a lucky man. He breaks away from you just for a moment to undress himself, shoving his pants down his thighs and unbuttoning his dress shirt. Once bare, Jack turns to you and finds that little tear in your nylons again, then rips the hole wider up the garment. He yanks the nylons and your panties off of your legs and puts them with the rest of his discarded clothes, tucking them away for later. He removes your skirt next, followed by your bra and your blouse. You breathe heavily as Jack takes in your naked form, even more beautiful than he pictured. He needs you now, needs to taste you.

Jack pushes you gently onto your back, laying you out across the bench seat before sinking to his knees on the floor of his Buick. He wraps his strong forearms around your still rain-cold thighs and pulls you close, close enough so that you can feel his hot breaths on your slick pussy. Jack could eat you alive right now.

He spits on your pussy, then rubs your folds with his fingers, paying special attention to your clit. He spreads your lips wide and admires your shiny, glistening center. “My, look at this mess,” Jack marvels, admiring your creamy arousal. He tastes you then, pressing a soft kiss against your core. Jack inhales deeply, taking in your scent, feeling your hair against his shaven face. His tongue darts from between his lips and he licks you up and down, dipping his tongue inside you. 

“Jack, oh my - yes,” you gasp, your hands tugging on his graying strands of black hair. Jack slowly licks a long stripe up your seam with his tongue flat against you, all the way from your asshole to clit. “Jack.”

The mess he’s reduced you to. All broken moans, desperate, needy cries of his name. Jack smiles against your cunt and continues licking and lapping at the sensitive part of you. He traces your folds, sucking them between his lips. He draws circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue next, driving you wild. “You like this, darling, don’t you? You like having this pretty pussy eaten?”

All you can do is nod. Jack closes his lips around your clit and sucks, causing you to clamp your thighs around his head and pull his hair tightly between your fingers. Jack forces you apart so that all you can do is take it, all that relentless, smoldering pleasure. 

Jack intensifies it all by pushing a finger inside you and curling it, stroking that sensitive part of you. Within seconds you’re coming, rocking your hips against his face as you ride out your high. 

There’s barely a comedown. Jack crawls over your body, one foot planted on the floor of the car and the other kneeling on the seat. He reaches behind the front seat for his suit jacket and bunches it up, then fits it between your head and the passenger door. “Don’t want your pretty little head to get hurt is all,” Jack says. 

He holds his cock between his thumb and his forefinger before he lines up with your entrance. His cock is big, perfectly lengthy and girthy. You tense up a bit as he fits his cockhead inside of you, “Easy, darling. Take it all for me,” he coos. 

You inhale deeply, and on your exhale Jack pushes himself inside of you in full. “Ohhh,” you moan. It’s such a tight fit, he fills you so fully. The aching burn of the stretch takes time to dissipate as Jack rubs your hip. After a moment, Jack pulls out of you, then inches his way back in. Your face previously scrunched in pain is now relaxed, soft little noises of pleasure escaping your lips. “That’s it, good girl,” Jack says. “Wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Jack laces his fingers between yours and uses his other hand to brace himself on the back of the car seat. Jack begins thrusting, not quite fucking you gently. It builds quickly, the pace both harder and faster. Jack rocks his hips into you at that perfect angle to have you writhing on his cock, the head of it kissing the most sensitive place inside of you over and over. You bury your face into him, the hair on his chest tickling your face. 

“Fuck,” Jack grunts, fucking you deeper. He knows he should be more gentle than this, but he can’t be helped. He loses himself inside of you, growling like an animal as he fucks his cock into you. You’re squirming beneath him, muscles tensing against his as you begin to cry, overwhelmed by it all. “Such a filthy fucking girl, crying on my cock. You’re okay, sweetie.” 

Jack rolls his hips quickly and fluidly so that his pubic bone is grinding against your mound, the friction inching you closer and closer to a second release, but it isn’t quite enough. You rock your hips to match Jack’s thrusts, needing more against your clit. “M-More please, Jack,” you beg. “I wanna come, Jack, make me come again.”

While still fucking you, Jack spits onto two of his fingertips, then fits his hand between your bodies. He finds your sensitive bud and rubs it, using the momentum of his thrusts to bring you to climax once more. “Come for me, sweetheart. Give - fucking give it to me.”

Jack rounds your clit with his fingers, putting harder pressure against it. In moments, you’re coming for him again, this orgasm more intense than the last. Your moans are louder, more frantic. Your face scrunches in pleasure as you pulse around Jack’s cock, urging his own release along. “Good girl, good fucking girl.”

 Jack growls into your ear as he spills into you, milking himself entirely. He fills you with his come, so warm inside you, the throbbing of his cock so pleasurable and satisfying. Dampened with sweat, Jack presses his forehead against yours as he fucks you through his orgasm, then slows to a still. He hisses a little when he pulls out of your cunt, his spend dripping from your hole onto the leather. Jack collects this mess with his finger, then pushes the digit into your mouth as he catches his breath.

It’s all quiet, save for a few scattered raindrops and the sound of you and Jack both catching your breath. Jack breaks the silence. “Well hey, how about that. The storm passed, huh? Was really something, too. I’m glad we pulled over,” Jack laughs nervously. He helps you dress yourself as best as he can, then haphazardly dresses himself too. You smile a little, and Jack touches your face. “You alright, darling?”

“I’m okay,” you answer, still a little tearful. Jack smiles sympathetically and pulls you into his side, then shifts his car into gear. 

“Well, let’s get you home, then.” 

-

TY for reading! Comments, reblogs, all of that good stuff would be so appreciated ♡

[l0stglitch]

A night at the boardwalk

Platonic Yandere lost boys x reader

Part 2

Notes- Sorry this took so long to write! This fic wasn’t supposed to be that dark but then idk I guess I kind of changed my mind towards the end.

Warnings- Neglectful parenting, (They’re all kind of assholes in this but at least Dwayne and Paul try to be nice)

You glared down at the sheet in front of you, hoping that the intensity of your gaze would somehow make it disappear altogether. Algebra had always been a weak spot for you, so being given a sheet full of equations to solve by your tutor had been a very unwelcome surprise.

It was hard to even read the numbers under the dim light of the cave, which only added to your growing frustration.

“I’ve been looking for you.”

Your head shot up at the sound of Paul’s voice. Judging by the way his words seemed to almost melt into each other, you came to the conclusion that your father was definitely not sober.

“Hey pa,” You replied as he sat down on the couch beside you.

The man threw his head back with a theatrical groan and rested his arms on the back of the couch.

His eyes remained shut for a moment, before opening and curiously glancing over at you.

“Whatcha got there babe?”

You shrugged, fiddling with the paper absentmindedly.

“School work.”

Paul snorted, “School work! You actually bother with that shit? Y/n you don’t even go to school.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment, “Well yeah. Lindsey set it for me- and besides the others would kill me if I didn’t do it.”

He frowned, “Is she setting you too much work? Cause you know we can find you someone else if-”

“No! No! I like her.” You cut in quickly. Lindsey wasn’t your first tutor. You’d had a few before, but they usually didn’t last long. Each one mysteriously disappearing after a few months.

Since you weren’t enrolled in school, your fathers (well, David and Dwayne) had decided that it was important that you were still somewhat educated, and had taken the responsibility of finding tutors for you.

It was risky of course, having outsiders visit the cave to teach you, so it wasn’t surprising that your fathers were extremely careful about who they picked and what information they gave to them.

Lindsey was the best so far, but she had been teaching you for three months by now. You knew it was only a matter of time until they replaced her.

Paul took the work from you and squinted at it.

“You know how much math I do each day?”

You frowned, “Uh- do you even know how to do math?”

He scrunched the paper into a ball and threw it across the room.

“Nope! And I don’t need to- cause it’s all just dumb made up shit.”

He twisted onto his knees and grabbed you by your shoulders.

“Look babe, you should be enjoying life- not wasting it on algebra.”

You laughed dryly, “I would if David hadn’t grounded me.”

Paul sat back with a defeated look on his face, “Well shit. I forgot about that. Wait- what did you do again?”

“Fuck knows.”

He hummed and lit a spliff.

You debated asking for a smoke, but ultimately decided not to.

“Y’know… I think you’re right about me enjoying life.”

Paul quirked a brow, “Well duh. Im always right.”

“Yeah, so I was thinking maybe you could take me to the boardwalk.”

“Take you to the boardwalk…” He repeated under his breath.

“Yep. David said I can’t go alone, so as long as you’re with me..”

Your dad blinked at you, trying to make sense of what you were saying.

“So.. so.. you’re grounded- or are you not?”

You smiled innocently and shook your head. “Not grounded.”

“And you want me to take you to the boardwalk?”

“Yeah.”

Paul paused for a second, “Sure, that sounds fun.”

You grinned, delighted by how easy it was to get your way.

“Great! I’ll go grab a jacket.”

He nodded slowly, “Ok I’ll uh- I’m getting the keys then.”

You almost tripped in your haste to get to your room. You grabbed a worn leather jacket from your clothes rack before spinning around and running back to Paul.

Unsurprisingly, you got back before he had managed to find the keys to the bike.

“Pa, they’re in that drawer over there.” You said as you entered the main part of the cave, pointing over to a small, wooden chest of drawers.

He frowned, “Coulda sworn I just checked that one…” you heard him mumble to himself as he lumbered over to where you had directed him.

“Ha! You’re right babe- they were here this whole time. That’s weird.”

You smiled impatiently, “Can we go now?”

“You aren’t gonna put on your jacket?”

You glanced down at the leather tucked under your arm, realising you’d forgotten to put it on in your rush.

“Yes- fine! Can we please go now?”

Paul watched as you quickly shoved your arms into the sleeves with barely concealed frustration. Not that he particularly noticed in his impaired state.

“Cmon then.”

He stood up and held out a hand. Usually you would’ve refused, claiming to be too old for that, but you knew better than to test your limits right now. As long as you got out the cave, that was all that mattered.

Paul spoke to you the whole ride. Or at least, you think he did- it was difficult to hear over the rushing wind and snarling engine.

When you eventually reached the boardwalk, it only took around 5 minutes for your father to get distracted.

You noticed them before he did. A rowdy mix of surf nazis and punks, many of them seeming to recognise Paul. They called him over, flashing their alcohol and weed enticingly at him.

He looked at you, torn between his responsibilities as a father and the desire to do whatever the fuck he wanted.

“You stay here, ok? I’ll be five minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”

You nodded obediently, “Don’t worry Pa, you can trust me.”

He ruffled your hair, “I know.”

You stood there for a moment, watching as he eagerly greeted the group. It saddened you slightly, seeing how he’d rather spend the night with them instead of you, but at least it gave you the opportunity to see your friends.

Once you were sure he wasn’t coming back, you began making your way through the busy crowds. The smell of food stalls, and the sound of people chattering excitedly- you loved it. You loved the boardwalk with your whole heart.

“Y/n! Is that you?”

You turned at the sound of your best friend’s voice. She was hanging out with a group of kids you’d never seen before, a surprised look on her face.

You hurried over, greeting her with a hug.

“I’ve missed you Beth,” you said as you pulled out of the embrace. Your friend smiled and gave your hand a warm squeeze.

“Me too- I kinda thought you were grounded.”

“Yeah I was. I managed to convince Paul to take me out.”

Bethany frowned, “Is he the one who taught you to skateboard?”

You were touched by her effort to try and remember the things you had told her about your dads. “No that’s Dwayne. Paul’s the stoner.”

She nodded, “Ah ok, so that means we won’t have to worry about being caught?”

“Unless one of the others shows up we should be fine.”

“Great! Let’s go do something fun then.”

You frowned, glancing over at the other kids she was with, “You’re just gonna leave them?”

Bethany shrugged, “They’re just school friends. I’d rather hang out with you.”

You smiled, “If you’re sure. What kind of fun did you have in mind?”

She shot you a sly grin, “How about we get our ears pierced?”

“Again?”

“Yeah, we can get our seconds done!”

You hesitated, imagining David or Marko’s reaction to another set of piercings.

“Oh cmon, your dads are punks right? Surely they won’t be that pissed off.”

“Yeah but they’re also total hypocrites and control freaks.”

Bethany gave you a pleading look, and you finally gave in.

“Ok ok, let’s go do it.”

She squealed in excitement and grabbed your hand, “We’re gonna look so cool! Have you eaten yet? We can grab some hotdogs or something after!”

You laughed, “I’m starving! We’ve got like no food at home.”

Beth shot you a sympathetic look, “Aw you poor thing. They starvin you again?”

“Yeah but.. not purposely this time,” you shrugged, trying to downplay it.

“Ok, well we’ll get ya something to eat after.”

You nodded, “That’s the place, right?”

She glanced over to the tattoo parlour you were looking at, “Yeah that’s it. I know a guy whose brother works there.”

You hummed as you both reached the door, “Sometimes it feels like you know the whole of Santa Carla.”

Bethany laughed, “You would too if your dads let you go to school.”

You shrugged, “Maybe one day…”

Your conversation seemed to naturally die as you both walked inside.

The guy Bethany knew was nice enough- he gave you both a 50% discount and told you to come back again should you ever want anything else.

You thanked him and left once you were finished, eager to find something to eat.

“You want any mustard on that?”

You quickly shook your head, “Just ketchup’s fine.”

The guy in the van nodded, squirting red sauce onto your hotdog. He handed you the food in exchange for a couple dollars and you walked back over to Bethany.

“You sure you don’t want anything?”

The blonde girl shrugged, “Me and mum ate earlier.”

You nodded and took a large bite out of the hotdog.

Bethany watched you eat. The way you hungrily tore into your food saddened her- she knew you were being mistreated by your parents. She knew that sometimes you’d go days without food. You claimed it was accidental, and that they would never starve you as a form of punishment, but she wasn’t so sure.

“Y’know, you could always move in with us. My mum wouldn’t mind, and my dad… well he’s been gone for a while now. I doubt he’s gonna come back anytime soon.”

You swallowed your food and shook your head, “Beth I couldn’t do that to you. If my dads found out-”

You stopped yourself before you could say it. If your dads found out that you had moved in with your best friend, then she was as good as dead.

You’d seen what they were capable of. Only once, but that was enough to change the way you saw them. They were predators. They fed off people. People like Bethany. People like you.

“I know I just- I just worry about you.”

You smiled, “You shouldn’t, you got your own shit to deal with.”

She laughed humourlessly, “You mean my dad? He’s long gone, Y/n. I don’t need to worry about him anymore.”

You were about to reply, when a familiar voice suddenly caught your attention.

“Two hours Paul! Two fucking hours and you somehow managed to lose her.”

You stopped in your tracks and grabbed Bethany’s hand. She shot you a questioning look, but you offered no explanation.

“Dude I swear I was only gone for like five minutes! I thought I could trust her.”

“She’s thirteen! In what world is a thirteen year old trustworthy?”

Bethany suddenly seemed to catch on. “Shit! Are those your dads?”

You nodded frantically, “Yeah! They uh- they definitely know I’m here so you gotta get outta here now before they see you.”

“You gonna be ok?”

“I’ll be fine- just go ok?”

Your friend reluctantly turned around, sending you a quick goodbye before disappearing into a crowd.

A moment later, David rounded the corner, followed by Dwayne, Paul and Marko.

“Where the fuck have you been?” David demanded, his icy blue eyes staring threateningly at you.

“I was hungry.” You said, meekly holding up the ketchup stained napkin.

Dwayne took a step closer, eyes full of worry, “Paul forgot to feed you?”

You narrowed your eyes, “I can feed myself- there just wasn’t any food.”

David scoffed, “So you snuck out cause you were hungry?”

You frowned, “I didn’t sneak out- Paul took me!”

“Hey! Don’t blame this on Paul. He brought you here as a kind gesture and you fucking ran off!” Marko interjected.

“He went off to get high! How is that my fault?” You could hear how your voice was getting whinier the more you spoke, desperate and full of frustration.

Paul opened his mouth to speak, but David cut him off. “Enough of this. It’s time to go home.”

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from arguing with him, knowing it would only make the situation worse.

Dwayne took your hand and rubbed your knuckles placatingly. “Cmon babe let’s go.”

You nodded wordlessly, allowing him to lead you to where they had parked their bikes.

Dwayne mounted the ride first, before helping you up onto the seat behind. You glanced over and accidentally locked eyes with Paul. He looked slightly apologetic, although it was hard to tell through the darkness.

“Alright let’s go!” David called over the grumble of the engines. You wrapped your arms tightly around Dwayne’s waist as his bike shot forward seconds later.

The cool night air stung your eyes, forcing you to shut them.

Smothered by the howling wind, you could hear laughter and cheering from your fathers. It almost felt like they were taunting you.

They were excited to get back to the cave. Excited to punish you. It made you sick.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife @xjesterxjacksx @simplyreading96 @ursinaw @purple-lemon-8

(This technically isn’t a part 2 of the first fic because I wasn’t really sure what direction to take that one but I do have a few ideas for this so if anyone’s interested in a part 2 of this or just has any suggestions/requests my asks are open!)

[cjlouwho]

Rocker and Deacon are out shopping for groceries or whatever and Deacon just subconsciously reaches to hold Rocker's hand or to put his hand on Rocker's waist, while they're talking about something else, and Deacon not letting go even when they bump into someone they know.

Rocker is a little surprised because he remembers how they started off all clandestine and now Deacon is freely showing affection in front of others.

Okay, I saw this and had to write something about it 😩 then it turned into 1000 words! I hope you enjoy!

They've been together, really together, for four months now. No more hiding, no more affair, no more dirty little secret.

Deacon's moved into his own apartment, he's explained everything to the kids, he and Annie are figuring things out through their attorneys.

He and Rocker have even filled out all the proper relationship agreements at work.

All these steps came pretty naturally. They left both Deacon and Rocker feeling more free than they ever had their entire lives. Like a heavy weight had been lifted off of them.

They weren't exactly the most exciting pair. Sure, the sex was incredible, adventurous, sometimes daring, but life was about more than sex.

It was about fixing the broken cabinets in Deacon's apartment, it was dealing with the nightmares Rocker sometimes suffered from, it was making sure they got enough rest to be able to deal with whatever happened at work the next day.

It was figuring out who they were as a couple, all the things they liked and all the things they hated. It was laughing together, fighting together, helping each other, holding each other.

It was dealing with grocery shopping for two households on a Saturday afternoon.

“We should have gotten two carts.”

“You really want to try and maneuver two carts down every aisle through all these people?”

Deacon managed to step out of the way just before a lady could ram him with her cart. He sighed. “No. I just want to be done with this.”

“We just gotta get some breakfast foods for your place and we'll be finished.” He waved Deacon along. “Scoot scoot.”

With an eye roll, he turned and headed for the next aisle, Rocker following behind with the cart.

Deacon grabbed up a box of Fruity Pebbles and placed it on the side that had all his items, stopping with he noticed the look Rocker gave him.

“What?”

“That for you?” Rocker asked.

“Do I look like a Fruity Pebbles kinda guy to you?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

Deacon glared at him. “They're for the kids, Donovan. It's their favorite.”

Rocker shook his head, pushing the cart forward to get out of another man's way.

“What? What is that?” Deacon asked. “Why are you shaking your head?”

“They don't like Fruity Pebbles anymore.”

“Yes they do.”

“No they don't.”

“Yes, they- How would you know?”

“The last time they came over,” Rocker explained, “Lila mentioned that Samuel threw up Fruity Pebbles in the car and now none of the kids can handle the smell.”

Deacon picked up the box. “No Fruity Pebbles then,” he said, placing it back on the shelf. After letting three people pass between them, he moved back over to Rocker's side.

“Should I be offended that you know my children better than I do?” he questioned, wrapping an arm around Rocker's waist as they continued down the aisle.

Rocker smiled. “Well, technically you were in the shower when they told me, so...”

“Oh, the truth comes out,” Deacon said with a laugh. “You were just gonna let me think I should know this information?”

Rocker shrugged as they turned the corner. “It's fun to see you squirm sometimes.”

“Oh, you're gonna be doing some sq-”

“David!”

A woman's voice had Rocker and Deacon turning their heads to the side.

“Mrs. Chase!” Deacon greeted, smiling brightly at the older woman. “Good to see you!”

“You too. Busy day in here today, isn't it?”

“That's what we were saying,” Deacon answered, giving Rocker a pat on his side before resting his hand back on the same spot.

It was a little thing, and Rocker knew he should be used to it by now, but he wasn't. They'd spent over a year hiding. Making sure no one saw a touch, a glance, heard an unprofessional word. They'd once driven an hour out of town to go out to dinner somewhere that they knew no one would know them. And even then, Deacon had to be sitting so he could face the entire restaurant, just in case someone were to enter that he recognized.

Now though, with this woman that Deacon knew but Rocker had never seen before, his hand remained just above his hip.

“Mrs. Chase, this is my boyfriend, Donovan Rocker,” Deacon introduced. “He goes by Rocker though.”

And damn, that still felt new too.

Boyfriend.

Not acquaintance.

Not co-worker.

Not friend.

Boyfriend.

It might seem a little juvenile to some, using the word boyfriend when the two of them were in their forties and fifties, but in their line of work “partner” could mean many things. So, boyfriend it was.

Deacon gave Rocker's waist a little squeeze, “Donny, this is Mrs. Chase from my old church. Makes the best pies in the world.”

Rocker smiled, reaching out to give her hand a shake. “Nice to meet you, Ma'am, I've actually heard a lot about you.”

“Oh, my,” she replied with a little giggle, shaking his hand as a blush rose on her cheeks. “You're very handsome.”

“You're very sweet.”

She looked over at Deacon once she let go of Rocker's hand. “A lot of us have missed you at church, David.”

“I miss some of you guys too, it's just... that's Annie's place to go now. It wouldn't be fair to her.”

He left out the part of the news spreading like wildfire as soon as he and Annie filed for divorce. How the rumors had gotten so bad that the priest had called and asked him to not return. It wasn't like he was going to anyway, but that definitely put the final nail in the coffin.

Mrs. Chase nodded, her facial expression remaining soft, nonjudgmental. “Well, you have my number still, don't you?”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“Good. Use it. Call me soon and I'll bring you a couple of my pies.” She looked back at Rocker. “You like cherry?”

“Love it.”

“Good. I better get going. It was good seeing you, David, and nice meeting you, Rocker.”

After saying their goodbye's, they started down the next aisle.

Using one hand to steer the cart, Rocker wrapped the other around Deacon's shoulder, pulling him closer and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Can we get out of here now?” Deacon asked, gripping onto Rocker's shirt with his hand as they passed a group of very loud tourists.

“Breakfast foods,” Rocker reminded him.

Deacon dropped his head down. “Damn it.”

[joelscruff]

one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART ONE

hi there ! i'm new to the tlou fandom but not new to fic, and watching the show over the past few months inspired me to return to fic writing. the idea for this has been milling around in my head for a good chunk of time now and i finally felt ready to put pen to paper and get this thing started. i've already posted this to ao3 if you prefer that medium, but i'll also be posting it here now. let me know what you think!

summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (this part is not explicit but this fic will be) warnings: (for future parts) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink - will add more as fic progresses word count: about 2.6k

You don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.

It started about a month ago, after all the shit that happened with that monster, David. After Ellie had decided she wanted to start sleeping alone.

It hadn't really been a conscious decision on her part, but you'd noticed that first night how she'd distanced herself from you and Joel when it was time to sleep. She'd curled up against the far wall of the basement with barely a word, shutting herself off entirely while you'd tended to Joel's injury. Prior to this – ever since Joel was stabbed – Ellie had started sleeping at his side, head on his chest, listening to his heart and hoping against all hope that it kept beating. You'd slept a few feet away, hoping desperately for the same thing.

After David, she avoided physical contact entirely. You and Joel wordlessly understood, though you could tell it alarmed and concerned him. Though he'd been in and out of consciousness for the past few weeks you know he'd become accustomed to having her at his side, curled into him with that familiar daughterly affection he'd been missing for twenty years. Seeing her ultimately decide that she no longer wanted that closeness, probably feared it, distressed him greatly.

“Fuckin' bastard,” Joel had murmured to himself that first night as you cleaned his wound – you'd learned what to do from watching Ellie, “I'll fucking kill him.”

“Shhh,” you'd hushed him, keeping your voice low in case Ellie was still awake, “He's dead and gone, she took care of it.”

“Shouldn't have had to,” he'd hissed, “Fuckin' bastard.”

He'd slept poorly. You knew because every so often you'd hear him mutter something else to himself about David between short fits of sleep. You didn't sleep much either, partly because in the wake of Ellie's sudden distance it was now your job to monitor Joel's wound, but also because you felt the same way Joel did. The thought of that monster... what he'd done to Ellie and what he'd tried to do... you'd never felt so much disdain and hatred for one person in your life. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see was the look on her blood-spattered face when you'd both found her, the way she'd barely been able to speak... you could only imagine how much worse the images behind Ellie's eyelids were.

So she slept alone now, which meant Joel slept alone.

For a little while, that is.

-

After a few days of short spurts of travel and staying in more abandoned houses (Joel wasn't well enough to walk much, though he tried to deny it, much to the frustration of you and Ellie) you'd set up camp on the outskirts of a small community. Ellie hadn't talked much and Joel hadn't been fully in his right mind since you left that first house, so the decision-making had fallen to you for the time being. Truthfully, you were done with the mouldy mattresses and hard concrete of those suburban basements, the smell of rotting food and being bothered by mice and cockroaches while you tried – and failed – to fall asleep. Neither Joel nor Ellie argued when you suggested setting up a campsite in the woods for a change of scenery.

The snow had melted quite a bit and there hadn't been anything fresh in almost a week, the temperature rising rapidly the further you walked. The idea of sleeping underneath the stars again with fresh air in your lungs and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees was enough to keep you going that day. That night, you'd watched as Joel made a fire with the materials you'd collected, Ellie already bundled up inside her sleeping bag a few meters away.

“Hey, you sure you're not gonna be cold over there?” you'd called to her gently, already knowing the answer.

“I'm good,” she'd replied, sounding earnest enough, “If I get cold I'll move.”

You'd sighed quietly, turning back toward the fire. Joel was blowing lightly on some kindling, eyebrows furrowed in thought. You used this rare moment of him being distracted to analyze his face; the dark circles beneath his eyes had been growing more prominent over the past few days, and he'd gotten into the unconscious habit of blinking very slowly, like he was always just a few seconds from sleep. You'd never seen him look this exhausted.

“You need to sleep,” you'd murmured, and his eyes had snapped up to meet yours instantly, “I'm serious, Joel, you look...”

“I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine,” you shifted your eyesight to the fire, lifting your hands to warm your palms, “You look like you haven't slept in days, which you literally haven't, by the way.”

“I've slept,” he'd grunted, turning his attention back to the fire as well.

“Yeah, for maybe twenty minutes at a time.”

“Well, maybe if I wasn't bein' woken up every twenty minutes by you checking if I'm still breathin',” his voice was hard and cold, but you were used to it.

“Don't be dramatic,” you'd snapped back, “I check you maybe twice a night now, if even that. Sorry for wanting to make sure you're okay.” The last few words had come out shakier than you'd intended.

He'd inhaled deeply, and you could see him looking at you again in your peripheral vision, “You're right, I'm sorry. I'm being an asshole. As usual.”

“You're not an asshole,” you'd muttered, “you're tired. And so am I.”

You'd sat together in silence for a few moments before Joel had reached behind him for his pack, digging out the blanket he'd started using in lieu of his old sleeping bag. He'd decided to leave that behind; it was what you and Ellie had used to get him back to that first house, the one Callus had dragged across the icy terrain with a bloodied and near-death Joel as its only occupant. He'd pissed himself in it, which he'd attributed as the main reason for leaving it. But you knew the truth: he'd spent too long wrapped up inside of it during that period of time to ever get a good night's sleep from it again. It needed to be put out of its misery.

Both you and Ellie had offered to give him your own but he refused every time, repeatedly stating that the blanket Ellie had found was warm enough, if not even warmer than the sleeping bag had been. You honestly didn't know if he was telling the truth, but he gave you no choice but to believe him.

“You take first watch, then.” he said quietly, “We're out in the open again, gonna have to stay alert.”

“Got it,” you were a bit embarrassed by your brief moment of vulnerability, but you'd quickly busied yourself with picking up the rifle to hold it in your lap.

You'd watched as he spread out the blanket on the ground, carefully kneeling down and wincing at the pull of his stitches. He laid down on the edge of it, then reached over and pulled the other side over his body like a makeshift sleeping bag. Sighing contentedly, he'd closed his eyes.

Despite how much older than you he was, the word adorable couldn't help but cross your mind.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled quietly to you, and you'd forced yourself to look down at the rifle so he wouldn't catch you staring.

“Night, Joel.”

-

You'd quickly learned that Joel's new blanket was in fact not warmer than his sleeping bag. After a few hours of keeping watch, you decided to check on both Ellie and Joel to make sure they were doing alright. Ellie was fast asleep and didn't look to be shivering or experiencing a bad night's sleep; she actually looked more peaceful than you'd seen her for a long time. You'd smiled fondly, fighting back the urge to push her hair out of her eyes; she'd made things very clear and you weren't going to overstep.

You wandered over to Joel and the contrast between he and Ellie was staggering; there was no peace here. He was wide awake, shivering ferociously and hunched in on himself with his hands cupped around his mouth as he blew on them for warmth.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you'd immediately dropped the rifle and leaned down to him, “why the fuck didn't you tell me you were freezing?”

It actually wasn't a very cold night, but the combination of Joel's thin blanket, his injury, and the fact that he was overwhelmingly exhausted were just making everything ten times worse. He also hadn't slept outside for weeks. You immediately began to regret the decision to camp tonight.

“Hold on,” you'd said quickly, scrambling back up to grab your own sleeping bag. You unzipped it so it was wide, then draped it over Joel's shivering form, “I'm gonna give you some body heat, okay? Don't make it weird.” You'd only said the last part because you knew he would protest.

You'd crawled underneath both layers of material and without any hesitation wrapped your arms around Joel, ignoring his shaky mutterings of “I'm okay” and “you don't need to”. He'd surrendered very quickly, relaxing into your embrace as you ran your hands up and down his arms at the fastest pace you could muster. You alternated between his arms and hands, taking them in yours and rubbing your palms against them like you were trying to start a fire, huffing hot breath against his skin. Beneath the blanket, you entwined your legs with his, pulling his socked feet against your ankles and trapping them there to warm them up.

It only took a few moments for the heavy shakes to stop and for Joel's breath to even out again. Despite this, you stayed where you were and kept doing what you could to keep his temperature stable. As he warmed up, he began to feel more like himself; he was no longer a cold statue but the warm and solid man you'd come to recognize, and you were hyper-aware of the fact that despite spending so much time with each other you'd never actually been this close to him. His arms, strong and steady beneath his coat, the same arms that carried around that heavy pack all day, the arms that cradled the rifle, they now laid loose and tender under your touch. His hands, calloused and rough around the edges but soft at the palms, the same hands that set the fire still burning a few feet away, the hands that once held his daughter and had learned to hold Ellie's – and now yours, feeling like in some way they belonged there.

You'd known you felt something for Joel, but you'd never realized how strong and real that something was until it was literally in your embrace.

Without speaking you'd laid your head on his chest, closing your eyes and doing your damnedest to fight back the sudden tears that were threatening to well up. Holy shit, was all you could think, a warmth you'd never felt in your entire life radiating in your chest and somehow extending toward him. Holy fucking shit. It was like time had stopped and all you could feel was him.

You'd looked up at his face, needing to see if he felt it too, felt you the way you felt him, but your eyes widened slightly when you saw that his were closed, mouth slightly agape. There it was, that peace you'd seen on Ellie's face, now transferred to Joel's. For a brief second you felt panic, but it was immediately interrupted by the light snore that emitted from his open mouth. He'd fallen asleep.

And a few moments later, so had you.

-

That was the first night you'd slept solid without waking up even once. Not just since Joel had been stabbed, but since the pandemic had started to begin with. You can't recall ever having such a peaceful, dreamless, absolutely soul-refreshing sleep. And neither had Joel; when you woke the next morning he was still fast asleep in your embrace, that peaceful expression still sculpted on his face like he was a living Michelangelo. In the night you'd only gotten closer to him, legs still entwined and head still on his chest. The only difference was that your arms had obviously stopped their rapid movements to keep him warm, and they'd ended up snaked around his torso, the palm of your left hand laying flat against the hot skin of his waist, just above where his stitches were.

Maybe you should have pulled away when you realized, gotten up and pretended it didn't happen. The thought did cross your mind, but then Joel had shuffled a bit in his sleep and you'd become aware of the fact that his arms were around you, hand pressed flush against your bare back underneath your jacket and shirt, holding you to him. And that was enough to make you stay.

About fifteen minutes later, he'd woken up.

He didn't flinch or yank himself away when he realized the position you were in. He'd blinked slowly at you, and you'd peered up at him just as quietly. His lips had parted and then closed again, as if he was going to say something but then thought better of it. Instead, he just kept staring at you, and you started to feel his hand on your back slowly and tenderly stroke the skin there. In return, you gently brushed your thumb against the bare skin of his waist. It was a moment that felt like it went on forever, both of you touching those small intimate parts of each other without saying so much as one word.

You felt butterflies in your belly when the hint of a smile twitched at his mouth, and you smiled back, sleepy and soft. You never wanted to leave this small piece of existence. You just wanted him to keep looking at you like that, his gaze holding yours with an expression you could only describe as contentedness. You'd never seen him look so relaxed; the dark circles had faded and even the lines on his face had receded into his skin. He looked younger, healthier, like all the bad things that had happened to him had vanished in one good sleep.

“Uggghhhh,” Ellie moaned a few meters away, and both your heads snapped in her direction. She was sitting up in her sleeping bag, back facing you. You could see her arms stretching above her head as she began her typical morning wake-up routine: stretch, groan, flop, repeat.

Without saying anything you'd both untangled yourselves simultaneously before she could see the sleeping arrangement you'd found yourselves in. The loss of warmth and familiarity was palpable as you quickly stood up and grabbed the rifle, walking over to the now completely burnt out fire. Joel silently folded up his blanket and your sleeping bag behind you, then muttered something about needing to look for more shit to burn.

That's how it started.

And you don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.

[dalliancekay]

I'm just gonna write out what I think cos if someone sends me this again for the 113th time, I'm gonna snap. Look. Interviews (months!) before a premiere of something are tricky. You gotta be careful and VAGUE with what you say and what you want people to expect. Mostly creators focus on the themes in the first, maybe second episodes or so too trying not to give away much. Just the bare bones, what is already expected anyway. After all, they want you to watch it and go: "Ahhhh...." It was the same in S2 as well. (David describing in interviews how unmoored Crowley was in S2, how kind of disappointed etc and Michael how Az is also a bit disconcerted by not having a job, something big to belong to). But that's a description of - how we find the Ineffables in ep1, rather than describing the whole of Season 2. And there was a book first before the series and you must admit Aziraphale and Crowley are a bit different in the series than they are in the book. So caution was needed. PLUS their story has evolved again. It doesn't now end in the Ritz (I know it never really did for Neil and Terry who clearly wanted them to deal with the whole system somehow). The husbands have more trouble ahead. More details were added. We got more of their story, their journeys. Crowley doesn't change and is just waiting for Aziraphale to catch up with him is not much of a story, don't you think? Aziraphale is a naïve goody two shoes angel who has to realise Heaven is bad - is just so simple I'd be angry if I was Neil and read that. Well, okay, I AM angry.

And I'm sorry but Aziraphale has not lived a guarded life. He has lived a life of fear and anxiety with bosses who underestimate, belittle and laugh at him and think he's soft and rather pointless. Does anyone know what the question was Neil answers?

Yeah, Aziraphale changes a lot in S1 (esp first 2 eps, he's kind of forced to think about the stuff that was always kinda there but swept under a rug a bit in is mind). Crowley throws out - we should do something. This whole Armageddon thing, I don't like it. He is so much a questioner of everything, isn't he. Why does it have to be tis way. Makes no sense, what if... And generally, he doesn't have much to lose. If Hell wins, well, he knows what it's like. If Heaven wins, well, it'd be marginally better? Just about? If he survives to see it? Still sucks balls tho. So yes, David is right that Crowley NEEDS Aziraphale to see things his way and quickly. Cos EARTH.

Aziraphale knows the Earth came with a manual and an expiry date. He even told this to Angel!Crowley aeons ago.

So Aziraphale's journey (is not stopping believing Heaven is good and truth and light) is believing that he has choices. That the Plan might be Ineffable but it doesn't have to follow what he was told it must follow.

Crowley says, look, let's try, what do we have to lose. You like Earth as much as I do. And he gets Aziraphale to agree, they hatch a plan.

We watch Crowley come to love and trust Aziraphale through the ages after all he has been through. We watch Aziraphale to guard their little existence and carefully push at boundaries of what he thinks he can get away with. He wonders at what things are really like. What do they mean.

Their journey, is towards each other.

I don't know how they will smash the System before they fall into a tight embrace and never let go, but I know they will. Even if they have no idea yet that that is even possible. How could they.

And if I see one more post about how Aziraphale was backsliding and choosing his ‘faith’ over Crowley in the Final 15, I will set the internet on fire.

I can never decide if Heaven and Hell are more like mafia or like a dictatorship. Maybe a mix of both. Just cos they couldn't be killed, they were left alone for a bit. Didn't last long though, did it. They needed to be separated so they don't stop another go at destroying the little Universe project God started. I guess the Archangels are quite fed up with it.

Remember. Aziraphale and Crowley have nowhere to go. They never had. The best they could do was keep their little places on Earth. For themselves. For each other. Until they couldn't.

If you thought Aziraphale won't take the chance to have a tiny glimmer of an opportunity to destroy the fucking system in whatever way he can come up with (instead of what, being downmoted, having his memory erased too?), than you don't get him at all. Did he want to stay? You heard him say it. Was he allowed to? (No, really Metatron, nice chat but do fuck off for real now, I have a date with my demon). If you think Metatron wouldn't be back with a punishment for helping Gabriel than I don't know what to tell you.

Remember this?

And then they threatened the demon he loves.

ALSO Why do people keep bringing this back to justify their vague (or not so vague) dislike of Az (but but Neil said "I think Aziraphale needs to learn") cos they think Az betrayed Crowley by leaving or something. The angel is just so stubborn. And he just won't listen to Crowley... right? /s And they ignore all the other wonderful things Neil says about Aziraphale. Especially pointing out again and again and again how smart Aziraphale is. And you can see this. In canon. On screen. In the words and scenes of what Neil wrote. You can see Aziraphale's struggles - he is a part of something he disagrees with and has no way out (Hell is not a way out btw) and tries to live in his existence in the little bubble with Crowley while being extremely careful not to have it burst. Until it inevitably does. Just as he always knew it would. But okay, if you want to have Good Omens be about a demon who figured everything out and is now waiting for his fluffy little angel to catch up and apologise to him (a million times) for being stupid so they can finally ride into the sunset, have at it. TL;DR - Heaven is good and Heaven should/could be good are two different things - Aziraphale is not an idiot; whether he still believes God is good/neutral/whatever and just the management bad or not is up in the air, we can't know unless we ask him, but it's definitely not so simple as he needs to see it's bad, like Crowley did, end of story - The Ineffables HAVE NOWHERE TO GO. There isn't a secret third option where they can leave for and be happy if only Aziraphale opened his eyes - it's what the story is about - Crowley left Heaven for an even worse place. It would make zero sense for Aziraphale to follow his journey. Crowley is not free and doesn't have all the answers - I bet it has never occurred to either of them the whole System can be ever changed (we don't even know if it can be. The System is bigger than the UNIVERSE) - But I think that's what they'll do in S3

[fluentmoviequoter]

Love (Both of) You More

Part 2 of Love (Both of) You

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

Summary: You grow closer to Deacon throughout your pregnancy and learn that you aren't the only one who loves him. (This picks up about a month after Part 1 and covers the rest of the pregnancy and birth!)

Warnings: fluff, brief angst, vague threat from r's ex-husband, protective Luca and Deacon, labor and birth, more fluff, Deacon sings Sinatra

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: Thank you so much for the love on the first part! I really enjoyed writing this! An extra special thanks to @elephants-bubbles-brachosauruses for the amazing ideas and for being so kind!!🫶🏼

Living with Deacon Kay for a month has changed your perspective on a lot of things. Your life changed in an hour, in the moments between when your now ex-husband kicked you out and when you found solace and comfort in Deacon’s arms. Now, everything is different and infinitely better, even if you’re pregnant and suffer daily from dizziness and nausea. The moment Deacon wraps you in his arms, it doesn’t seem to matter.

“What are you thinking?” Deacon inquires softly.

“Are you sure?” you ask Deacon.

He chuckles and his arms shake around your shoulders. “Of course.”

You look down at your growing bump and frown. “You wouldn’t prefer to wait four months?”

Deacon moves his hand to your chin and directs your face toward his. “No, I would not. Whatever you are thinking, it’s not true. You’re pregnant, but you’re still you. Still beautiful.”

You nod slowly against Deacon’s hand, and his eyes soften as your smile grows. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Deacon replies happily. “I asked if you would be my girlfr-“

You lay your hand over Deacon’s mouth and say, “Just because I already live here doesn’t mean we can jump to that.”

Deacon gently pulls your wrist away from his face, but not before he kisses your fingers. “Whatever you want.”

“I want to say yes,” you whisper.

“I can wait. For both of you.”

When your phone rings after Deacon leaves for work, your vision is blurry from dizziness. Despite not knowing who is calling, you answer and say your name.

“Good morning,” your realtor greets. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“They didn’t accept my offer?” you guess, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I’m sorry. I did find another house in the neighbourhood; it just hit the market and it’s got everything you want.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “I’ll, uh… Can you send me the listing and I’ll get back to you?”

“Of course. Have a good one.”

You hang up and drop your head into your hands. The dizziness hasn’t passed, and you force yourself to take a few deep breaths before the stress of the bad news can make you feel any worse. As your stomach begins to churn, you reach for your phone again. Before you can find Deacon’s contact in your favorites list, his front door opens.

“Deac,” you whimper as he returns.

“You’re okay,” he assures softly.

He walks to the couch and kneels beside you. The moment his hands meet your arms, you relax.

“What happened?” Deacon asks.

“I was really dizzy, and then the realtor called…”

“You didn’t get the house?”

You shake your head, and Deacon shifts to pull you into his arms. With your face pressed to his shoulder, your breaths grow more regular, and your dizziness begins to fade.

“Listen,” Deacon requests. “I know that it’s hard, that you are dealing with everything and holding it together for this little guy… Would you maybe want to stay here? Just until the baby is born and then you can get a house without having to worry about this. The stress isn’t good for you, but I want you here. Being by your side is- it’s the best place I’ve ever been.”

You nod against Deacon’s shoulder. His arms wrap tighter around you, and you suddenly remember he is supposed to be at work.

“Why’d you come back?” you ask.

“Would you believe me if I said I felt like I should?” When you shake your head and smile, Deacon amends, “I forgot my coffee and can’t live without it.”

You laugh and lean back. With the room to leave, Deacon leans closer to you and lays his hand over your stomach.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I love you, Deacon.”

“I love you,” he replies. “Both of you.”

At 15 weeks pregnant, you’re convinced that your baby is going to be an Olympic gymnast. Between the kicks to your bladder and the discomfort he or she can cause, you’ve forgotten what it’s like to simply sit and be comfortable. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been to the bathroom or shifted to find a better position, but it’s been an all-day battle.

“We’ve got 25 more weeks of this,” you whisper to your stomach. “Could we try to work together?”

A sharp pain against your side is your answer, and you shake your head in both discomfort and amusement. Deacon will be home soon, but you don’t want to concern him by mentioning any issues. When he does return, you raise your arms and hug him tightly.

“I missed you,” you say. It’s punctuated with a kiss on his jaw. “And I have an answer.”

Deacon’s eyes widen as he awaits your answer.

“I’m ready to say yes. I want to be your girlfriend, Deacon, more than anything.”

“I love you,” Deacon says.

He cups your face in his hands and kisses you. You move with Deacon until you hiss in pain and pull away. With a hand pressed to your bump, you wonder how someone can move so much in such a small space.

“You alright?” Deacon asks.

“Mostly. Someone’s active today.”

“C’mon, sit down,” Deacon urges.

After he helps you lower to the couch and kisses your forehead, Deacon walks to the kitchen. You twist as more kicks begin and tilt your head back as tears prick your eyes. Whether it’s pain or hormones, you can’t tell, but it’s not enjoyable.

“Let me try something,” Deacon says.

You nod to welcome him, and after he sets a snack and a glass of water before you (which you smile at), he sits beside you. He lays his hand over your stomach and brushes his thumb against you.

“Practicality doesn’t interest me, Love the life that I lead, I’ve got a pocketful of miracles, And with a pocketful of miracles, One little miracle a day is all I need,” Deacon sings softly. “Troubles more or less bother me, I guess When the sun doesn’t shine, But there’s a pocketful of miracles, And with a pocketful of miracles The world’s a bright and shiny apple that’s mine, All mine.”

As Deacon sings, your baby calms. You relax beneath Deacon’s touch, and he smiles up at you through the words of the song. You’ve told Deacon that you love him, but it’s clear that you aren’t the only one.

“Thank you,” you tell Deacon after he finishes the song. “We love you, Deacon Sinatra.”

“Not as much as I love you,” Deacon argues.

He kisses you, and your baby kicks. As you groan, Deacon chuckles and leans toward your bump again.

Your 16-week appointment is one of the most exciting, though you think Deacon is more excited than you. The appointment will tell you the gender of your baby, which has been the topic of many debates between Deacon and Luca over the last three months. Deacon is convinced it’s a boy, but Luca won’t change his vote for a girl. Either way, you know your baby is going to have an amazing and protective father figure and uncle in Deacon and Luca.

Two days before the appointment, however, everyone’s excitement levels drop. Deacon calls you as soon as he learns that he has to be in court the day of your ultrasound.

“I’m so sorry,” Deacon apologizes. “I would be there- I want to be there, but this court date came up out of nowhere and I have to testify.”

“I can try to reschedule the appointment,” you offer. “I know you were looking forward to it.”

“No, no, you need to go. I just- I’ll find out when I get home.”

“Sorry, Deac. If you happen to get out of court early or anything, you know you’re welcome to drop by.”

“Yeah.” Deacon sighs before he says, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

After you end the call, you stare at your phone for a moment. Deacon was so excited when you asked him to come with you, and now he finds out just a few days before the most important ultrasound of your pregnancy that he can’t be with you. You’ll have to do something for him, and you have an excellent idea.

“Hey, are you okay?” Luca asks quickly when he answers.

“I’m fine,” you promise. “I just talked to Deacon, and he can’t come to the appointment this week. So, I wanted to ask a favor.”

“Anything.”

“I need your help to surprise Deacon.”

“Oh, I’m in.”

“He’s here,” you alert Luca. “Thank you for helping.”

“Of course,” he replies. “He’s going to be thrilled. You’re good for him.”

“I think you have that backward.”

“You’re good for each other. Trust me, I know things.”

You chuckle and shake your head. Luca pulls you into a hug and keeps one of his arms over your shoulders as Deacon enters the front door.

“Hey,” Deacon greets. “Luca.”

“Luca is here to tell us if I’m having a boy or a girl,” you explain.

“But you-“

“I told them not to tell me. So, they put it in an envelope and gave it to Luca.”

Deacon smiles and pulls you from Luca’s arms and into his. Luca scoffs and mumbles something about being your best friend before he walks away. You wrap your arms around Deacon from your position at his side.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Deacon tells you.

“Yes, I did. I wanted to.”

Luca returns with an oversized box. He shrugs at Deacon’s surprised look and says, “We couldn’t decide. So, would you like a lightsaber or your girl’s idea?”

“A lightsaber?” Deacon repeats. “I do want to see it, but I’ll take hers.”

“It’s not much,” you interject.

Luca nods and removes two smaller boxes. He sets them on Deacon’s kitchen table and steps back. You clutch Deacon’s hand between both of yours as he walks you to the table.

“Cake’s on the left, outfit’s on the right,” Luca tells you.

“I saw the ideas online,” you say. “The cake is either pink or blue, and the outfit is for the baby, so it’s for a boy or girl.”

“You pick,” Deacon offers. “Your baby.”

You shake your head and argue, “Your surprise.”

“Both, then. All of the above. I’ll cut the cake, you open the box, and Luca turns on the lightsaber.”

“Yes!” Luca exclaims.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” you agree.

You stand before the box with the newborn outfit in it, Deacon holds a cake knife over the confetti-decorated cake, and Luca raises the lightsaber before him. With the lights dimmed, you count down from three. The lightsaber buzzes as the light glows from the handle up to the top, and you look from the outfit to the cake, to the glowing toy.

“You were right,” you cheer as you wrap your arms around Deacon.

“It’s a boy!” Deacon yells as he hugs you tightly.

“I have a nephew!” Luca exclaims as he twirls the lightsaber.

Deacon pulls back from the hug and gently wipes the joyful tears from your face before he looks at the outfit in your box. This is better than anything you could’ve heard in the doctor’s office, and you’re glad that you have both Deacon and Luca by your side.

“Hey, what flavor is that?” you ask as you look at the cake.

“Your favorite,” Luca answers. “Because I’m a good friend and a better uncle.”

You watch him play with the lightsaber as you lean against Deacon. This is home, you decide, and he always will be.

“Sit down,” Luca demands. “You’re almost five months pregnant, you’re not helping.”

“I’m pretty sure you said I’ll help you move in not I’ll move in for you,” you argue.

“Absolutely not,” Deacon adds as he walks through with a box. “You’re not lifting anything.”

“Then let me put stuff away!” you try.

“And stand for hours? No.”

“Take a seat. We can handle it,” Luca promises.

You huff as you sit back on the couch. Luca and Deacon walk out to get more boxes from the back of Luca’s truck. There wasn’t much to move, and your ex had put everything in a storage unit and then shipped the key to your attorney. Outside, Deacon and Luca get another reminder of your ex as they prepare to move a larger box.

“Hold up,” Luca requests. He pulls his ringing phone from his pocket and answers, “Luca.”

“Hey,” your ex greets.

“I told you to stop calling,” Luca seethes.

He stands up straighter and Deacon raises his brows in question.

“Yeah, well, my baby is due pretty soon. I want to know where she’s having my kid so I can be there.”

“You’re not welcome, and you never will be.”

Luca hangs up and shakes his head. Before he tells Deacon who it is, his phone rings again.

“Don’t hang up on me,” your ex begins. “I have a right to know.”

“You lost that right when you kicked the mother of your child out and divorced her just because she was pregnant. No one wants you here, and if you call one more time, the only answer you’re going to get is a restraining order.”

“I’ll find her myself, then.”

“Listen very closely,” Luca says darkly, surprising Deacon with how quickly his attitude intensified. “Do not come near her and stop calling. You’re not a father, you never were.”

“That wasn’t the first time,” Deacon says after Luca ends the call. “How many times has he called?”

“It’s been a while. He called every day for the first month or so, but nothing until now. He said he wanted to be there for the birth.”

“Luca, she-“

“She is getting a restraining order,” Luca interrupts. “Not that I think she’ll argue.”

Deacon nods and jumps out of the bed of the truck to go inside. Luca knows that it’s time to tell you, so he follows Deacon inside.

“Why are you up?” Deacon asks. “C’mon, we need to talk about something.”

“Oh,” you say, looking between Deacon and Luca. “About what?”

“Your ex.”

“He called today, and it wasn’t the first time. For some reason, he wanted to know where you were having the baby because he wants to be there,” Luca explains. “It was the first call in months, but I think you should consider a restraining order, just to be safe.”

You nod and immediately agree. “Thank you for dealing with it, Luca, and for not telling me. I don’t think I could’ve handled it before now.”

“What changed?” Deacon asks.

“Everything. You, moving in. I didn’t love him and I’m really happy now.”

Deacon pulls you close, and Luca teases you about stealing his only capable helper as he exits the house to bring in another box.

“I’m happy with you,” you whisper. “Thank you, Deacon.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he checks.

“I’ve never been better than I am with you,” you assure. “Thank you for everything.”

The halfway point of your pregnancy passes in a blur, but the five-month mark feels like someone slammed on the brakes. The entire 21st week of your pregnancy, you were nauseous, dizzy, sick, and tired. You kept it from Deacon for a few days, but Luca found out somehow and checked in on you often.

An hour after you went to bed, you wake suddenly and move as quietly as possible to the bathroom. Two silent trips later, you decide to stay there rather than risk waking Deacon. Leaning back against the cool tub, you close your eyes.

“What happened to tell me when things happen?” Deacon asks from the doorway.

“Nothing happened,” you argue tiredly.

“You’re just taking a nap in the tub because it looked comfortable, then?”

“Easier than going back and forth.”

Deacon offers his hands and helps you up slowly. You begin to argue with him, but when he leads you past your temporary home in his guest room, you fall quiet. He welcomes you into his arms in his bed, and you fall asleep and stay asleep. Deacon cares about you, and every time he shows that care, you grow more convinced that you won’t be able to leave him.

“You’re glowing!” Street says.

You look up quickly and smile when you see him. The decision to stop by the station and see Deacon and Luca was last minute, but you’re glad you’re here.

“Is it pregnancy glow or I’m dating Deacon Kay glow?” Street inquires playfully.

“Maybe it’s Maybelline,” you joke.

Street furrows his brows in confusion, and you wave your hand before his face and laugh. He swats your hand away gently and gestures for you to follow him. As you approach Luca, with his back to you, Street raises a finger to his lips and points. You roll your eyes but do it anyway.

When you grab Luca’s shoulders, he spins quickly. He inhales sharply when he sees you and tries to act mad, but when you raise your arms for a hug, he smiles and pulls you in.

“About time you visit again,” Hondo exclaims.

You smile and hug him quickly, and soon every member of 20 Squad – except for Deacon – is around you and asking about you and your son. When Deacon returns from the locker room, you’re pulled from the center of the circle and into his arms.

“Hey, when’s the baby shower?” Street asks.

“Never. I’m not inviting you guys to buy me gifts,” you say.

“Too late. They’re taking up space in the locker room,” Hondo replies. “Give us a date or we’re sending them all home with Deac.”

You shrug, and Luca says, “Saturday, my house.”

“Is it always like this?” you ask Deacon.

He nods and whispers, “Welcome to the family.”

At six months pregnant, you had accepted that you weren’t in a position to have a baby shower. Yet, here you sit, surrounded by cops and their families with an entire table full of gifts and more well wishes and love than you thought existed.

“Excuse us,” Deacon interrupts.

He apologizes to Hicks and Molly as he pulls you away but steers you directly to the couch before he tells you why he needed you.

“You’re getting tired,” he says. “Take a breather.”

“Maybe,” you reply. “Or maybe I just need cake.”

“You’re going to end up on bedrest if you keep this up,” Deacon reminds you, though his voice and smile are gentle.

“Being with you 24/7,” you muse. “Maybe I’ll keep it up.”

Deacon shakes his head but kisses your forehead before he asks you to rest for a minute before you go back to socializing.

“Hello,” Deacon greets over the phone. “I was about to call you.”

“My water just broke,” you say. “Sorry, hi.”

“Did you say your water broke?”

“Yeah, like two minutes ago.” You grunt as a contraction begins.

“We’re on the way,” Deacon says. “Stay on the phone with me.”

“I’m not about to have the baby, you’ve got time.”

“I missed enough.”

“Wait, we?”

“You think Luca would let me leave without him?”

You chuckle through the end of the contraction and listen to Deacon yelling for Luca. He’s calm, but rushing, as if you’ll have the baby in the twenty minutes it will take him to get here.

“You’re amazing,” you tell Deacon.

“That’s all you. We’re leaving now. How do you feel?” he asks.

“I feel fine. Contractions hurt a little, but nothing I can’t handle.”

“We get to meet little man!” Luca cheers. “Hey, did she pick a name yet?”

“A few,” you and Deacon say together. “She’ll pick when she sees him,” he tells Luca.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Deacon and Luca rush into his house. You’re waiting by the door with your hospital bag, and you smile as Luca takes your bag. Deacon sits with you in the backseat of his car as Luca drives.

After you enter the hospital with two protective men wearing SWAT uniforms, you get into a private room before you can even sit in the waiting area. Your contractions grow closer quickly, and Deacon’s hand stays in yours through every moment of labor. Luca is waiting outside to meet your son, but at this moment, you only notice Deacon.

“You’re amazing,” Deacon tells you. “You can do this.”

He continues to encourage you and stays close to you throughout the entire process. The moment your son’s cries fill the room, you relax and whisper, “Thank you” to Deacon.

“A beautiful baby boy,” the nurse says as she passes your son to you.

You hold him against your chest, and you look up at Deacon. He smiles at you and lays his hand over yours on your son’s back. His eyes are misty, and you mouth I love you, which he returns without hesitation.

“We’ll be right back,” the nurse promises as she lifts your son. “Just a quick check-up.”

After the room clears, and only you and Deacon remain, you sit up carefully and pull him closer by his hand.

“I have a question,” you say. Deacon nods, and you ask, “Can I give him your last name?”

Deacon’s eyes widen but he doesn’t answer.

“I don’t have to; you don’t have to!” you add quickly. “I just thought-“

“Yes,” Deacon whispers as a tear breaks past his water line. “Yes.”

You sigh and smile as Deacon wraps both of his hands around yours.

“You’re the only father he’s had, the only one he will have,” you explain. “Thank you.”

Deacon bends over to kiss you, and you wipe his tears before he stands. The nurse returns soon after, and Deacon takes your son from her and holds him to his chest. Deacon may not be the reason this baby exists, but he’s his son, no matter what happens.

“He’s perfect,” Luca whispers as he enters your room. “Looks just like you.”

“Thank you for everything, Luca,” you reply.

“Are you kidding? I’m just getting started.”

He lifts a giant gift bag onto your bed, and you smile before you look at Deacon and your son. They’re both perfect, you think.

“We need to talk,” Deacon says as he returns from the nursery. He sits beside you and adds, “It’s about what you’re comfortable with me doing.”

“Everything,” you say.

“No, I mean-“

“I know what you mean,” you assure, pressing your hand to Deacon’s chest. “You’re his father, Deacon, and if you want to do anything for him, I won’t stop you. He loves you… almost as much as I do.”

Deacon smiles as he leans forward to kiss you. He told you in the hospital after you gave birth that he wanted to step in and be a father to your son, and you quickly corrected him to say our son. Even before you started dating Deacon, you knew there was something special about him, and now that you’re in a real relationship with him, you understand that everything about Deacon Kay is special.

With your head on Deacon’s chest and his arms around you, his touch and heartbeat lull you to sleep. Your son falls asleep the moment Deacon picks him up, too, and the realization makes Deacon smile. Deacon brushes his hand over your shoulder as he lays awake. He doesn’t know how much time passes before your son starts crying. Deacon turns down the baby monitor beside him and stands, careful not to disturb you.

He enters the nursery he set up before you gave birth and gently picks his son up. Deacon sways as he rubs little Kay’s back.

“Practicality doesn’t interest me, Love the life that I lead, I’ve got a pocketful of miracles, And with a pocketful of miracles, One little miracle a day is all I need,” Deacon sings softly.

With Deacon's touch, his voice, and the vibrations of his chest, your son calms quickly and falls asleep against Deacon’s chest. When Deacon turns, you’re leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” you whisper. “He still likes it.”

Deacon raises one arm, and you join his side. He kisses your head before you tilt your chin up for a proper kiss.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you more than I can say,” he replies. “Both of you.”

Deacon begins singing again and sways. He locks eyes with you as he changes the song to The Way You Look Tonight. Your relationship with Deacon gets better daily, and this moment proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Deacon is a great father, and he does love both of you.

[unreliablesnake]

Untitled. Part two.

[part 1]

Summary: The team finds out about Deacon and his girlfriend.

Note: Reader is a fashion model in her twenties. Deacon and Annie only have three kids. // I'm gonna write such short pieces about them because why not.

Warning: age gap, afab!reader.

You decided to bring a bunch of donuts to the station, strictly for the members of 20-David. Of course, knowing them, they would share it with the others, but you didn’t mind. It only proved how kind all of them were, looking out for every S.W.A.T. member there, even if they were on a different team. Chris led you and the delivery guy to the kitchen as secretly as she could, giving you the chance to talk alone before alerting the others about the gift. 

“So what’s this about?” she asked as she pointed at the boxes. 

A small laugh left your lips as you looked at your hand for a moment. “Deac’s been a little tense lately, I assumed you guys went through something rough he doesn’t want to tell me about. I mean, it’s okay, he will talk when he’s ready to share these things with me, but until then I just wanted to cheer him up.”

She rested her elbows on the table, then placed her chin on her hands as she watched you. “And if the team asks? Because they don’t know about the two of you, I doubt you want to reveal it now.” You shrugged, but the look on your face probably gave away that she would be your excuse. “All right, I’m the one having a bad week. But you owe me one for this. Maybe you should take me to a photoshoot or fashion show abroad. Just an idea,” Chris said with a wink. 

“Deal.”

When she glanced over at your shoulder, you knew you weren’t alone anymore. And sure enough, not two seconds later you felt a hand on your shoulder for a moment as this person walked past you. “What do we owe the pleasure of having you here? And I guess these are from you,” Street added as he reached out to open a box, but Chris was quick to slap his hand to stop him. “Hey, I only wanted to take one.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, right. You take one, I leave the room to tell the others, and by the time I get back, an entire box is missing,” she explained in a semi-real grumpy tone that made you laugh. 

You patted the chair on your right to make him sit down, while Chris stood up and left to herd the rest of the team into the kitchen. Until they got back, you got lost in a conversation with Street and answered every question of his about a recent job of yours and a few more about a model that he followed on Instagram.

Hondo, Luca and Deacon showed up a few minutes later, and your boyfriend chose to stand across from you by the other side of the table, the small smile on his lips giving away that he was happy to see you. You explained that Chris had seemed a little off lately and you thought the whole team might need something to bring back the good mood. 

This little group of yours began a cheerful conversation while eating some of the donuts, but at one point Luca stopped everyone and asked you, “What was that look?” You gave him a questioning look, having no idea what he was referring to. He pointed at Deacon then began to explain what he saw. “I saw that look you two exchanged. You're hiding something.”

“Yeah, Luca’s right,” Street chimed in. “And it's not the first time he noticed something like this. Remember when you said he was looking at her for a little too long the last time she was here?” 

Luca playfully punched his arm to shut him up, but by now it was too late. Hondo glanced over at Deacon with a mysterious smile, while Chris’ eyes were fixed on you. You didn't know which one of you was supposed to say anything, if you even had to say anything. But these people were his second family, your secret would be safe here.

“We… are… seeing each other,” Deacon said after a while, his brown eyes falling on you as if he was expecting you to get mad at him for telling them the truth. So you nodded with a smile to assure him it was okay. “For four months now, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, something like that.” It was Hondo who asked about the kids, bringing up a topic you still weren't ready to talk about. “I haven't met them yet. It takes time, I don't want to rush things.”

Your boyfriend nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets. “But I've been prepping them for the meeting. They know there's a woman in my life who I love and they can't wait to meet her,” he said with a smile.

“Pay up,” Luca told Street with his hand held out. Upon seeing the confused look on your faces, he flashed a wide smile at the team. “I told him there’s something going on here, but he said I’m just imagining things.” He took the money from his roommate, then walked over to Deacon to pull him into a quick hug. “I’m happy for you. You deserve to be happy.”

A small smile crept on your lips when you saw your boyfriend’s reaction. He knew what Luca was referring to, and you were happy his closest friends were supportive. To be honest, until this moment, you weren’t sure if he had really been happier lately or if it was just your imagination telling you that you made him happy. But if they saw it too, it must have been true. 

When Deacon's eyes landed on you, he flashed a smile at you, one you returned without hesitation. You were head over heels for this man, and you thought maybe it was time to put some real effort into this relationship. You slid off your chair and walked over to him, taking his hand without thinking as you looked up at him.

“When's the next time you have the kids over?”

At first he looked confused, but once he caught your drift, he said, “This weekend. Does this mean you're willing to do this?” You nodded and he leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. “Thank you.”

“It's time for me to do this. For you.”