#jeep drabbles

[security-construct]

I fell in love with the idea of a god

with a man who cannot be touched,

who commands the movement of the universe with his fingertips.

But here, between my palms, you become human

who smiles with an endless pride for his students,

who hurts and grieves like any other.

Who breaks like any other.

You are godly, my love. But your heart still beat so fragile under my palm. Your bones feel so brittle, and even your smile grows weak.

You are human, my love. Do good to remember that, once I can no longer remind you with my own devotions.

You cry, and you scream, and you bring flowers every week, then every other, then simply whenever possible. And you sit beside me and talk about your dearest students, and oh, how they’ve grown stronger, you’d be so proud of them. I am, I am, I am proud of you too, you know I am.

Just know, please know, this was never my intention. I had hoped it would be when we were old and grey, as unlikely as it was. I wanted it to be by your side, not in grief but in a silent peace. I wanted to hold your hand.

Nevertheless, it’s gone now. I’m gone. I’ve left you alone again, but you’re strong. The strongest, aren’t you? You love to say it. Show them.

// Hi I found this in my drafts from god knows when and it made me sad again so I'm making it everyone's problem

[sofa-king-lame]

Buddie Drabble just because!

Started writing this to fill a prompt and it took on a life of its own, so…here’s a drabble for no reason other than I wanted to write it.

—

Kissing Buck in his Jeep at a Raising Cane’s drive-thru at two in the morning wasn’t exactly the way he had planned on kissing him for the first time, but Eddie wouldn’t change it given the chance.

They’d spent the day hitting thrift stores up the coast in search of a first-edition book by an author Buck was currently fixated on. Neither of them had realised just how far up the coast they’d ended up until it hit eight o’clock and Buck had punched in Eddie’s address to head home. Five hours if they took the highway, four and a half if they bent the speed limits a little. Because it was the end of a holiday weekend they hit traffic just outside of Fresno, adding at least an extra god knows how many hours to their trip.

Eddie had dozed off at some point to the sound of Buck tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to his playlist of nineties alternative songs. He wakes as Buck finishes ordering their food in the drive-thru, rubbing his gritty eyes with closed fists.

“That’ll be twenty-five even,” comes the exhausted voice of the cashier. “Please drive to the next window.”

“Thank-you!” Buck says cheerfully. Eddie doesn’t know how he’s still so upbeat, given they’d left Eddie’s place at six that morning. Buck notices Eddie is awake and flashes him a soft smile that makes Eddie’s stomach somersault in a way he’s become quite accustomed to.

“Where are we?” Eddie yawns. “Aside from the obvious.”

“Bakersfield,” Buck answers quietly as he pays the cashier and pulls forward to the next window. “Felt like my stomach was starting to eat itself, figured you’d be hungry too.”

“Famished,” Eddie replies, taking the food Buck hands him. Opening the bag he finds exactly what he would have ordered for himself had he been awake. He stares at the food, unblinking as he turns to look at Buck (who has pulled in to a parking space so they can eat).

“What? Did I order the wrong thing?” Buck asks, eyebrows creasing in concern. “No pickles, extra bread and extra sauce. Right?”

“No, that’s - this is exactly right,” Eddie croaks. “Buck, the last time we ate Raising Cane’s together was two years ago. You seriously remembered my order?”

“I remember everything about you,” Buck murmurs softly and that’s all that Eddie needs before he’s leaning over the console and kissing Buck like he’s the answer to all of Eddie’s questions. Which he is, he’ll have you know. Buck makes a muffled surprised noise against Eddie’s lips before he’s kissing him back enthusiastically, fisting a hand in the front of Eddie’s shirt. Dreams by The Cranberries starts drifting through the car speakers and Eddie has to pull back to laugh.

“Your stupid fucking playlist,” he huffs in amusement, forehead pressed against Buck’s.

“What’s wrong with it? This is a great song!” Buck argues indignantly, bringing one hand up to rest on the back of Eddie’s neck.

“It’s perfect,” Eddie sighs.

“You’re perfect,” Buck mutters, which is total bullshit but Eddie will allow it.

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Buck’s lips.

“I love you more,” Buck grins.

“Not a competition, Buck,” Eddie snorts, because if it were Eddie would win hands down.

“You’re just saying that because you know you’d lose if it was,” Buck teases, kissing Eddie again. Eddie lets him have this one too, because he has Buck. He doesn’t need much else.

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Hiii!! Im not sure if you take requests but if you do could you write something for regina goerge (2024) x fen reader please? Thank you

[Mean Girls: 2024] Regina George x Female Reader

[Requested]

Summary: Upon growing closer and ultimately becoming official with Regina, you finally understand the saying that home can be a person.

Word Count: 1.76k Content Warnings: A very brief mention of sex Category: Heavy Fluff || One-shot + Preference

[A/N]: I've been wanting to write for her ever since I saw the movie, so thank you for requesting this! I hope you'll like what I was able to come up with. The last part of it was more of a drabble, but overall this was fun to write.

Enjoy!

“Rough day?” Regina had asked you once you seated yourself in the passenger side of her jeep. You blinked, surprised she had already taken notice of your slumped and fatigued demeanor, but you responded regardless. “Yeah, it just felt like today went on forever. I didn’t think eighth period was ever going to end,” you murmured, smirking to yourself, amused. Regina, when you glanced up at her, was frowning at your words. She ignored Gretchen’s request to hurry up so they can get away from the school and instead took hold of your hand, giving it a small squeeze.

Before shifting into reverse and backing out, she lifted your hand up to her lips and pressed a small kiss against the backs of your knuckles. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make sure you can relax. It’s the weekend now, so you don’t need to worry about anything.” You hummed and nodded, face slightly flustered from her actions. She shot a grin your way before her attention focused in on the road ahead of her.

Like usual, the Plastics were going to meet up at Regina’s house after classes, just as they always had. Karen and Gretchen planned on informing their Queen Bee Regina about the latest gossip they had heard, though you already knew they had made half of it up just to stir the pot around school. You generally paid no mind to them when they started talking about drama. You couldn’t understand why Regina was so interested in it all – sure, it helped her gain the upper hand here and there, but it hurt so many people in the process.

You grimaced to yourself when you looked out the window, the soreness from the day already creeping up on you and causing you grief. With your focus pointed outside at the passing terrain, you hadn’t taken notice of how Regina peeked over at you, clearly having heard your small hiss of pain when you turned your head. As Cady and the other two Plastics blabbered on about god-knows-what in the backseat, Regina kept her worry centered on you. After you flinched again from hardly moving your limbs, she huffed, making up her mind.

“I’m gonna drop you guys off,” she announced to the girls in the back, who all stared at her for a moment, purely dumbfounded. “What?” Gretchen started, “But we always go to your house after school. You promised we could come today.” “Well, I changed my mind. I’m dropping you off at your houses instead.” Once again, Gretchen tried to argue against this sudden decision, though a sharp glare from Regina quickly forced her to press her lips shut again. She groaned and slouched down into her seat, causing Regina to roll her eyes.

Curiously, you eyed her from your seat. She felt your attention on her and glanced over at you from the corner of her own eye, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Gently, she squeezed your hand. A silent promise that it would be alright soon.

Almost immediately after making your way into Regina’s bedroom, you spotted one of her shirts draped over the back of the chair stationed at her desk. With a small smile, you plucked it from its original spot and hoisted it over your head, pulling it down over your body and sighing when the scent of her perfume met your senses. Always a comforting smell for you, which she was very much aware of. Each time you came by, she made sure to spray on a little extra.

Your feet led you over to her bed after you kicked your shoes off. Regina was still downstairs, briefly mentioning to her mom that you were going to be staying for the entire weekend. Her mom put up no argument, like usual, and you soon weren’t alone in the room anymore. You had situated yourself on your side of the bed, bundling up against her pillows while you mindlessly scrolled through your phone, and she could feel strings tugging at her heart at the sight, a prideful grin painting her lips.

She joined you on the bed after changing into more comfortable clothes: sweatpants, a loose t-shirt, and the fuzzy socks you had gotten her for her birthday a few months prior. She climbed onto the mattress, sighing at the relief the plushness provided her. Wordlessly, she shuffled until her hip met yours. Her arm slung itself over your shoulder and pulled you to her until your head was resting against her own, then her head dropped to rest on top of yours. Soothingly, her hand ran itself up and down your arm, and her soft lips pressed a chaste kiss to your temple.

Moments like these were what you cherished most. There was no drama to listen to, no prying eyes from other students, no snarky remarks directed your way, no stressful work to deal with. Here, in Regina’s arms, you were able to unwind and feel safe. As she tugged her phone off of her nightstand to click through TikTok, her other hand slid up to your scalp, nails dancing slowly through your hair in such a heavenly way that you couldn’t help but feel your eyes instantly flutter shut at the sensation. When you hummed in satisfaction, she grinned, then pressed another kiss to your skin.

“Ew, why are you back on my feed?” She suddenly questioned beside you. Puzzled, your eyes pried themselves open to glance at her phone, unsure if she was talking to you or not. Thankfully, she was talking about a random girl from school. You couldn’t help but snicker and watch as she immediately tapped the “Not Interested” option and continued her journey through her page. Upon hearing your small laugh, she let out her own and glanced at you.

“What?” Was her question, soft and playful, accompanied by an amused smile as she studied over your features. “Nothing. I just wasn’t expecting you to talk. I thought you were about to fall asleep. I know I am,” you explained, mirroring her smirk.

She shrugged and shook her head, briefly turning back to her phone. “I might. This week kind of kicked my ass.” You could only groan at that for a moment. “Yeah, same.”

A heavy sigh unwillingly slipped past your lips, and you didn’t have to look at her to know she was staring back, fueled with concern. Weakly, you rubbed at your eyes before letting them fall shut again. She said nothing, but you heard her phone click off and get placed back down on her nightstand. Her eyes were trained on you, you knew, but you were too exhausted to meet her gaze.

Instead, you focused in on the comfort she was effortlessly provided you with: fingers toying delicately with your locks, her own weight supporting yours, arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders, occasional pecks against the head. You felt your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. A quick yawn passed from you before you nestled further against Regina.

“Scoot closer.” Interrupted from your thoughts and once again being pulled away from sleep, you groaned and opened your eyes, looking up at her with confusion. “What?” “Scoot closer.” You did as told without another word. With a bit of effort thanks to your heavy limbs, you managed to slide over onto your side, which she did in return before pulling your head against her chest. Now feeling fully enveloped in her arms, your body went slack, much to your long-awaited relief. As her hand returned to play with your hair, she shuffled for a bit, trying to get comfortable.

Finally, she settled with a sigh of her own.

“I love you. You know that, right?” She murmured against your head, speech slightly slurred from her own exhaustion. You nodded. “I love you too.” Her nails drug effortlessly against the nape of your neck as she let out a yawn. “If you ever just want us to be alone after school, or… actually, whenever, all you have to do is tell me. I’m gonna get annoyed with Karen and Gretchen anyway, and Cady’s starting to get on my nerves too, so it would be nice to spend more time alone with you.”

A grin broke out across your lips. “Okay.” Silently, you wondered to yourself if she had ever been this soft to anyone before. When you had first gotten together with her, you worried she was going to treat you like she had done to everyone else. However, much to your relief, instead of being met with cold glances and meaningless sex, you found yourself constantly being showered in genuine compliments, longing gazes, soft touches, and plenty of promises for the future.

As she held you in her arms, you couldn’t help but tear up a little, truly feeling safe and secure with every bit of her warmth wrapped around you. Digging your nails into her shirt and burying your face into the soft fabric, you sniffled, which immediately caused her to tense and lean back to look you in the eye. “Woah, baby, what’s wrong?” You laughed and shook your head, the sight of your smile easing her tensed form. “Nothing at all. They’re good tears, I promise.”

Briefly, she eyed you, wanting to ensure you were being truthful. When you softened your gaze and smiled wider, she sighed, nodding and pulling you back against her chest.

Sleepily, Regina huffed out a small chuckle and closed her eyes. “Why’re you wearing my shirt by the way?” She questioned softly. You blushed, one of your hands instinctively slipping down to toy with the collar of said shirt and tug it up to your face. “It just… brings me comfort. That’s all.” You paused. “Is it a bad thing that I’m wearing it?” A quick shake of her head settled your nerves, though she further soothed you anyway. “Of course not. It looks good on you, baby. You should wear my stuff more often.”

You giggled. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you murmured in reply. It only took a few moments before you felt her melt into you. With your head rested against her chest, you were able to feel her breathing even out, slow down, then deepen, signaling she had finally fallen asleep. You yawned, knowing you were going to follow suit shortly after.

Your fingers dug in a little deeper to her shirt as you pulled yourself as close as possible to her. As your eyes fluttered shut, you hummed. “I love you.”

[kiestrokes]

Day 2: Choi San | NSFW

▸ Idol: Choi San of ATEEZ ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: a hard hour ▸ Vibe: you're supposed to be enjoying the slopes right now, but you forgot to get gas...got lost and stranded thirty minutes from your own private cabin, hoping someone can find you, your best friend has your location and checks it hourly like their own personal SIMS. Someone finds you, it's just the annoyingly talented and frustratingly attractive best friend of you brother, instead of yours. ▸ Warnings: language, references to being stranded in a snowstorm, lighthearted, none of this is serious.

Sexually Explicit Content: nude cuddling, kissing, fingering, slight nipple stim if you squint, intercourse (penis in vagina), raw sex (sorry I am tired, didn't feel like writing in a condom), orgasms for both.

🗝️ Note: this IS a hard hour but it kind of got away from me? but is not a wip or complete drabble because I don't have the time 🙃 no beta by me or anyone else. Good luck!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

You had been stranded in the snow, on an empty tank, for a little over an hour when your brother's best friend, San found you. Sleepy and freezing as he tucks you into his jeep. He carries you inside, your limbs useless at the moment.

You consent to him stripping the two of you to almost nothing. Quickly bundling your bodies together in the thickest faux fur blanket, right up against the blazing fire.

The cabin itself so warm that your skin felt like it was burning as your body began to thaw. Drifting in and out of sleep. San's calloused hands rubbing a tingling path across your skin. Your thighs shuffle closer hips rocking softly at the conflicting sensations.

Your icy fingers find San's chest and he gasps as the pad of your finger circles his nipple. Burying your face in his neck. Causing goosebumps to erupt over his skin as your cold nose hits a sensitive spot.

“I’m sorry please just ignore it.”

“Ignore what?”

You nuzzle harder into his throat, hearing his heartbeat pick up. He shifts and you feel what you’re supposed to be ignoring press into the top of your thigh.

“San?”

He squeezes you, “it’s ok it will go down in a second.”

You pull back to meet his gaze.

“My hands would make it go down faster.”

His eyebrows raise in amusement, “yes they would.”

He brings your fists up to his mouth blowing hot air into them. You stretch into him, pelvis pressing into his.

“I would warm up a little faster if we…”

San freezes lips brushing your knuckles.

“We hav-we don’t- really?”

You nod at his adorable, confused face.

“We could kiss first a see how that goes?"

You offer and San ducks his head, so your arms are wrapped around his neck. Delicately rolling you onto your back, heat from the fire washing over your left side.

“San-ah,” you breathe just before he kisses you.

One hand holding the back of your head and the other stroking down your bare side. You whimper into the kiss, rolling your hips into his growing hardness, two pairs thin of clothing preventing what you need.

“I want more, do you want more,” San murmurs between kisses.

“Yes!” You gasp.

He wastes no time, fingers slipping into the side of your panties to open you up. Your hips bucking steadily into his motions.

“Ah you are actually warming up.”

San smiles in relief, you nod urgently head kicking back suddenly when he rubs against the one spot inside you. Fingers twisting into his hair eliciting a moan from him.

“San-ah...”

“Want you to come first,” he says raggedly watching you fall apart underneath him.

Your hips rubbing urgently into his restrained cock.

“Ah yes right there, please,” you whine.

San groans as your hips fall out of rhythm your body shuddering as you start to come.

“Now San!”

“Now?”

You nod in exasperation, hands reaching to pull him out. He lets you take him, hips backing off yours to give you some space. San groans when you rub him next you his still pumping fingers to slick his dick up.

You gasp when he pulls his fingers out, hips rocking against nothing. Until he thrusts in, your spine arches and hips roll, taking him in deeper.

“Oh fuck,” San groans, bracing both hands beside your hips as your walls suck him in.

“San, I need you.”

“Ok, ok.”

San rolls his hips up in one sharp, delirious motion and you cry out as you pussy tightens around him.

“Fuck,” San groans.

His forehead pressing into your collarbone, hot breath fanning over your dampening skin. Both of your hips chasing each other, until they stutter as you fall apart together.

San groans, not a pleasured one. You trace the muscles on his back.

"What is it?"

"Your brother is going to kill me."

You erupt into laughter that quickly turns into a startled choke when you realize how well you can still feel San buried deep inside you.

He lifts his head to check on you, and you cup his cheek.

"We are both adults, and I think he will just be happy to know you found me before I froze to death."

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

the smallest drabble ever because i get inspo so randomly during the day and yeah

Older!Leon x afab reader

definitely not proof read so

warnings: car sex, roughness i guess? yeahhhhh <3

“You like this don’t you?”

Leon has you folded in the back of his jeep, after a small argument about how you claimed to be not flexible, your boyfriend guaranteed he can make you flexible. An hour of driving later he pulls off to the side of the road, making you confused as to why he would even turn off such a dark road.

Leon just silently reaches forward, scooting your seat all the way to the dashboard and reaching over to unbuckle your seatbelt. It was blurry how you got into the back seat, Leon’s strong hands tugging down your shorts and black swim bottoms. He’s hard to protest against, his body pushing you to lay your back flat against the cool leather seats.

A burning stretch runs across your thighs as he pushes them to your chest, a hiss of discomfort leaving your lips as Leon leans back, his middle finger running down your slit as his other hand holds at your knees that are pressed together.

The burning eventually went away, the car moving in sync with Leon’s hips as he thrusted into you, your legs fully pressed against your tummy and chest.

Leon can’t help but smile down at you, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip as you let out another whimper below him.

“Always doubting me.. have faith in your old man, yeah?”

All you can do is shake your head, Leon smirking as he reaches down and grabs the back of your neck, his lips so close to yours.

“Don’t like it?”

Your head shakes again in protest but god, you were a filthy liar.

“The way you’re gripping me is telling me a different story.”

Leon grumbles in your ear as his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. He knew every button to push, that’s why you were so silent because he knew you hated losing arguments. Leon’s breathing grew heavy as he pushed himself back, pulling himself out of you with the most lewd noise you’ve ever heard your body make. His head leaned back as his cum spilled all over your lower stomach, his head tilting against his shoulder as he let out a low hum.

His eyes opened to see you sprawled out below him, his hand coming down and smacking over your used clit causing you to jolt as he taps your hips.

“Let’s go, family is expecting us right?”

[kittenshift-17]

Drabble prompt: I’ve been waiting for you, all these years

The buzz of a notification dropping in pulled him from sleep like it did every morning, and Stiles groaned into his pillow, even though this one little ritual was usually the highlight of his day. Grumbling and snuffling a bit, he snaked a hand from under the covers to grab his phone from the nightstand.

Sourwolf: .jpeg

Stiles's sleepy eyes crinkled happily, and his heart skipped a beat even as he opened the message to look at today's photo. A beautiful view of endless mountains and pine trees fills the screen, the sun just beginning to peep over the peak in the distance, bathing the forest in a soft golden glow. It was breathtaking just captured on film, so he can only imagine how much more beautiful it must be in person for Derek, wherever he was, capturing the view from his vantage point after what Stiles had come to believe were his early morning runs.

They didn't trade much other information except the picture Derek took every morning to fire off to Stiles. A proof of life, Stiles knew. Something he once almost broke his hand over by punching Derek's chest in frustration after hunting him down during his FBI internship training when the wolf had randomly appeared amid a crime, once again wanted for murder while Stiles had had no idea if he was even alive after he'd disappeared with Cora almost a year beforehand.

Stiles remembered how furious he'd been every day of that internship, sweet-talking, lying, badgering, and outright bulldozing his way into the heart of the case to find Derek and find a way to warn the idiot werewolf he was on the FBI most wanted list. Again. He remembered how he'd literally tackled Derek - easier said than done, but that was how damn angry he'd been when he finally caught up to him - and how Derek had rolled with the tackle, literally, and pinned Stiles to the floor of an abandoned warehouse and snarled in his face, blue eyes flashing before he recognized him.

It had taken a lot of threatening, browbeating, and finger-pointing at Derek while he ranted for the werewolf to realize Stiles had been afraid he'd been killed or would be caught and arrested before Stiles had demanded Derek give him his new number and answer his damn phone, and always send him a new number if he changed it again, and to damn well prove to Stiles every day that he was alive because he'd been worrying himself sick for months.

Derek had settled for proof-of-life pictures since he still abhorred words, apparently. And every day, for months and months after that, Derek had sent him a selfie, eyes always flared to hide his face lest Stiles be somehow found out by the FBI for associating with him. Stiles had loved and hated the selfie because he wanted more! He wanted a picture of Derek where he could see that smug, handsome, grumpy face and those mesmerizing green-grey-blue eyes.

It had come in handy a few times, given Derek's unfortunate habit of getting captured by hunters, but Stiles was an expert at stealing back his favorite werewolf by now, and after the first two times when Stiles rescued him within a day or two of him disappearing - denoted by the lack of morning picture - Derek had gotten used to the idea of sending them without being such an ass about it.

These days, almost three years later, pictures were usually much more random than selfies. A breathtaking view like this. Sometimes, there are pictures of dawn in the desert and a close-up of a cactus. Sometimes by the sea, zoomed in on a lump of seaweed, a broken shell, or once, a dead jellyfish. Sometimes, he encountered other live animals and sent pictures of those, like a porcupine, a red fox, and a barn owl. Once, he randomly a Ruby red Jeep in the middle of the day, too, but hadn't given any context.

Humming, Stiles scrolled up in the thread of messages, looking over the recent ones. Mostly forest, which suggested Derek was in the wilderness, far from civilization, and had been for a while. Stiles didn’t reply much anymore. He used to always say good morning and ask Derek where he was, what he was doing, and when he might visit next, but replies from the wolf that wasn't the daily proof of life pictures were few and far between unless it was to warn him about some supernatural disturbance or vague, empty words about his location or wellbeing. Once, he'd wished Stiles a happy birthday. But never anything that encouraged chit-chat. Over the years, Stiles had stopped replying, mostly, other than occasional check-ins, comments on charming views, and once when he'd been on a night out at uni after an unpleasant break-up, a pitiful voicemail message telling Derek he really missed his stupid grumpy sourwolf face and wished he'd visit because he wanted a hug.

He hadn't gotten a visit or a hug, but Derek had sent him a grumpy-faced selfie without eye flare ruining the shot, and Stiles had cried and sent him a teary voice note telling the werewolf he loved his stupidly expressive eyebrows.

Today, a pang of missing the werewolf clanged through him as he drank in the image, and without really thinking too much about it, Stiles angled the phone to take a sleepy selfie, all doe-eyed and rumpled, his hair a mess, his mole-dotted skin pale where he laid in his bed in his Dad's house in Beacon Hills.

Stiles: .jpeg... Wish you were here, sourwolf 🐺. I miss you 😔

He sent it off before he could think about it too hard. Yawning, Stiles put his phone down and rolled over, planning on going back to sleep, but before he could, his phone buzzed again, and Stiles grumbled, thinking about ignoring it.

Sourwolf: Are you in Beacon Hills?

Stiles blinked because Derek usually only responded when he was in trouble.

Stiles: Yeah. College is finally over, so I came home.... no idea what I'm going to do with the rest of my life 🤣😅😨😰😭

He was almost asleep again, thinking Derek wouldn't reply when his phone buzzed insistently on his chest. A call. Stiles definitely considered ignoring it since Derek hadn't called him since the last time a hunter had been about to snatch him, blurting his coordinates to Stiles and the hunter's family name before the growling started at the line went dead. Stiles was in no mood to talk when he could be asleep, especially since a call was more likely to be his persistent ex, whom he wanted nothing more to do with.

Checking anyway, he dropped the phone on his face and flailed when he saw it was Derek calling.

"Derek?" Stiles gasped into the phone. "Oh my god, are you about to be snatched again? Where are you? I can save your ass. Again."

A beat of silence came down the line but for the whisper of wind in the pines and the occasional chirp of a bird.

"Did I miss your graduation?" Derek's low, rough voice slides into his ear, and involuntarily, Stiles’s eyes slid closed, his back arching at the sound of it.

"Ummm, yeah," Stiles managed past the unexpected visceral reaction. "It was last week. I didn't tell you since I didn't think you'd care... Dad came to see me in my silly gown and cap."

Silence came from the other end of the phone.

"You okay, Sourwolf?" Stiles checked. "You need my help?"

"How long will you be in Beacon Hills?" Derek asked, ignoring the question.

"I dunno. Forever, probably. Dad's here. My degree is... well, I can set up something online from here to make money, I guess."

If he was being honest with himself, his computer programming degree wouldn't serve him too well, career-wise. Still, he hadn't known what else to do after being kicked out of the FBI Academy when his involvement in Derek's case was called into question after he'd helped the werewolf escape justice (read: been shot in the toe and carried to safety by a disguised Derek whom he'd later gotten exonerated).

"You went home?"

"Nowhere else to go," Stiles defended since college and all the supernatural shit had been a great way to dismantle the pack and send his friends scattering to the wind, so he hadn't heard from any of them in months. Years! "Dad will always be here, and he's not getting any younger - and needs me to bully him into eating healthy again because he's been cheating on his diet while I've been at school, the idiot - and I don't mind it here. After New York, it's... peaceful."

More silence stretched on the other end of the phone but for Derek's soft breathing. Stiles just breathed with him, not wanting to yap too much lest Derek hang up to shut him up.

"You'll stay?" Derek asked quietly.

Stiles hummed.

"I think so. Someone needs to keep my dad in line. And... well, the pack's scattered to the wind, and everyone's left except Parrish. I figure someone should stay and keep an eye on things. Wouldn't want evil finding another foothold here, you know? I went by the nemeton yesterday... it's started to grow again now that the evil of the nogitsune spirit isn't poisoning it anymore."

Derek hummed a curious sound, more canine than human, but Stiles continued.

There's a sapling sprouted from the center of the stump, almost as tall as I am, with leaves and branches all over it," he confided. "It felt... right. The tree, I mean. The glade. It felt magical, but the good kind, you know what I mean? I want to protect it and make sure nothing else comes along to corrupt it again. I dunno why, but... feels like something I need to do."

A rumble of sound came through the phone at his words, soft and almost contented.

"Are you purring, big guy?" Stiles teased suspiciously.

"No," Derek grunted, but Stiles was pretty sure he was lying.

"Uh huh," Stiles laughed before a yawn escaped him as he stretched out, burrowing back into his pillow with a satisfied groan. "You're totally purring like a big cat instead of a grumpy wolf. I'm onto you."

"Are you still in bed?" Derek changed the subject.

"Mmm," Stiles hummed sleepily. "I'm an unemployed college graduate now. I'm allowed to sleep in."

Derek scoffed wordlessly, and Stiles laughed softly.

"Lazy bones," Derek accused softly. "I've already been on a ten mile run."

"If you went on four paws, it doesn't count," Stiles huffed.

"It does."

"Nope. Wolves are designed to run miles and miles. That's cheating."

"I'm a wolf, so it's my nature, ergo, not cheating," Derek argued.

"Ergo? You did not just say 'ergo', oh my god, dude. Only nerds even know that word. You can't just use it in a sentence."

"You know it," Derek pointed out. "Nerd."

Stiles gasped, pretending to be scandalized before he dissolved into sleepy giggles because these were more words than they'd traded in years, and Stilss might actually be having a delightful dream.

"God, I miss you," Stiles breathed, shaking his head. "Miss riding around in my Jeep with you being all serious and grumpy and bitchy at me while we tried to save the world, your eyebrows telling me off for talking too much... Snarky sourwolf."

"I was never bitchy," Derek huffed indignantly.

"So bitchy!"

Derek growled at him, but Stiles could hear him smiling.

"Hmm. This is a nice dream," Stiles hummed happily.

"Yeah?"

"Mmm," Stiles murmured, already beginning to drift off. "Missed your voice, Der. Miss your face. Mmm, eyebrows..."

He trailed off, falling asleep on the phone, so he didn't hear Derek's little fond laugh or hear him say, "I miss you too."

The next day, the photo Derek sent him was a selfie. A shirtless one taken on a different mountain with the sun rising behind him, casting his bared skin gleaming gold, and Stiles might've groaned and rutted against the bedsheets at how mouthwateringly good he looked. He sent back another sleep-rumpled one. This time, his cheeks flushed pink after stroking himself to completion.

They fell back to the same routine, but all of Derek's new pictures were selfies, almost all of them shirtless, and Stiles couldn’t resist sending some back, also shirtless, still in bed, often freshly sated.

Until one morning, almost two weeks later, his phone buzzed, waking him, and Stiles fumbled for it, eager to see his newest gift. Only today's picture wasn't a selfie. It was a picture of a dark-haired man sprawled in a familiar bed, mouth open in sleep, a familiar constellation of moles on his cheek highlighted by a kiss of dawn sunlight through his open bedroom window. Stiles blinked in confusion at the image of himself while his brain fired up before realization hit, and he shouted, scrambling upright as his eyes shot to the corner of the room the picture had been taken from.

Derek Hale loomed in the corner behind the bedroom door like the absolute creeper wolf he was, and Stiles bleated in surprise even as he threw off the covers and surged to his feet.

"Derek!?" He exclaimed, stumbling because mornings were hard and gravity was a cruel mistress, even as he lurched across the room and threw himself at Derek without a second thought.

Derek caught him against his chest, squeezing him tightly when Stiles clung to him.

"You're here!" Stiles exclaimed excitedly. "Like, holy crap, you're actually here! This is so cool! I haven't seen you in so long! You came home!"

"So did you," Derek pointed out.

"Oh my god, you're really here! Hi!"

Derek laughed into his shoulder. "Hello, Stiles."

"This is so awesome! It's so good to see you!"

In his enthusiasm, Stiles lifted Derek right off his feet and gave him a happy little shake, squeezing him fiercely. Derek growled a little at that, but Stiles didn't let it stop him while he bounced a bit until Derek wriggled to be put down and dragged his stubble cheek across the sensitive skin of Stiles's neck before nuzzling into him even more, cheeks, chin, nose and forehead all scraping across his bare neck and shoulder where he stood shirtless.

Scenting him, Stiles realized happily. Scenting him like a wolf would at the return of a packmate after some time apart.

"I can't believe you're actually here," Stiles prattled, submitting to being scented and even returning the actions, rubbing himself all over Derek while he clung to him. "How long are you staying? When did you get here? I have so much to tell you, oh my god."

Derek let Stiles prattle on about the town, his dad, the growth of the nemeton, and what he'd been doing to try and rustle up some business to make use of his degree - more challenging than he'd thought; it turned out. And while he prattled, Derek kept scenting him, rubbing his face all over him before he began to mouth along the cut of Stiles's jaw, his teeth just a little sharper than human but not enough to cut into him when he placed gentle bites all along his jaw and up to his ear, where he snuffled into him before biting the lobe.

"Holy fuck, dude, you gotta stop that before you start something you can't finish," Stiles warned because he'd already been sporting morning wood, but the attention had him throbbing with need. Hey, it wasn't Stiles's fault he had super sensitive ears and hadn't been laid in a while.

Derek's hands, which had found their way to his hips, squeezed firmly.

"Who says I can't finish it?" he breathed in Stiles's ear, and Stiles might actually blow in his boxers, people.

"Oh my god," he whined, though he jerked in surprise when there was a rap on his door before it opened, and his dad, sleepy and in his pajamas, wandered in.

"Stiles? Are you okay, bud? I heard you shout... aw, hell. Derek Hale?"

"Hello, Sheriff," Derek greeted, releasing Stiles when he jumped away quickly.

"What brings you home, son?" Noah asked, shaking Derek's hand and pulling him into a one-armed hug as well because Stilinksis were huggers, goddamn it. "You staying long?"

"Please stay," Stiles blurted without thinking. "Dude, you could totally stay and play with me."

Noah rolled his eyes when Stiles blushed.

"How's about I go and make us coffee?" he suggested. "Stiles, maybe a shirt before you blind poor Derek and scare him off with your pasty ass?"

"Heeey, I'm not pasty!" Stiles called after his dad before peering at Derek doubtfully. "I'm not. And as if you care about shirtlessness. You're the guy who shattered my self-confidence all throughout my teenage years with your inability to keep your shirt on for longer than an hour."

Derek dragged a heavy gaze over all his pale, mole-dotted skin, and Stiles shivered at the smoldering look the werewolf gave him.

"Don't wear one on my account," Derek said, and holy shit, was Derek flirting with him? Was Derek hitting on him? Maybe Stiles really was dreaming.

"Urgh, Dad's got a rule about shirts in the kitchen, and I want coffee, so," Stiles shrugged, crossing to the cupboard and digging for a shirt.

He paused when Derek came up behind him and started to scent the back of his neck, his shoulders, and the top of his back.

"Missed me, big guy?" Stiles teased softly when Derek rumbled a contented sound again, covering Stiles in his wolfy scent.

"Yes," Derek admitted roughly.

"Really?" Stiles perked up. "Aww, sourwolf, I missed you too!"

Derek bit the curve of his neck just hard enough to make it ache without breaking the skin and Stiles had to grip the chest of drawers to steady himself when his knees buckled a little bit.

"Are you really back in Beacon Hills to stay?" Derek asked against his skin while his hands slid around Stiles's waist to splay against his taut belly and the middle of his chest.

"Yeah," Stiles panted, unsure what was happening or if he was dreaming. "Yeah, I'm staying. I belong here. This is my pack's land."

"It's Hale pack land," Derek said against his neck.

"Exactly," Stiles agreed. "Fuck, dude, I don't know if this is a wolf thing for you, but if you keep doing that, I'm gonna..."

His hips twitched, his aching cock desperate for friction.

"You think you belong on Hale pack land?" Derek growled softly into his ear, and Stiles trembled, feeling every solid inch of Derek where he'd molded himself against Stiles's back.

"I'm Hale pack," Stiles moaned mindlessly.

Derek's stubble scraped against his sensitive ear and the skin beneath it, and his hot breath made Stiles shiver when he purred in agreement.

"You are," he rumbled in agreement. "You always have been."

Stiles whined softly at the acknowledgment, even as one of Derek's hands trailed up to grip his chin, turning his head in Derek's direction.

"Der..." Stiles panted, overwhelmed with what Derek was doing and how he touched him. He saw when he looked that Derek's eyes were fixed on his lips. "I haven't brushed my..."

Derek cut him off with a searing kiss, and Stiles's bones melted in the heat that burned through him, another whine tearing from his throat that Derek eagerly swallowed.Twisting in his arms, Stiles kissed him back, his arms coming up to encircle Derek's neck, confused but also wildly turned on and not about to look a gift wolf in the mouth.

When they broke apart, panting, Stiles blinked dazedly into eyes that glowed alpha-crimson.

"You're an alpha again," he croaked.

"I never stopped being one," Derek confirmed. "It just went away for a little while, like the rest of my powers when I was evolving."

Stiles nodded dazedly.

"You kissed me," he murmured, licking his lips.

Derek nodded, laying his forehead against Stiles. "I've been waiting for a very long time to kiss you."

Stiles eyebrows shot up at the confession.

"Oh yeah?" he whispered.

Derek nodded, their noses brushing together with the motion.

"All these years," Derek murmured to him.

"Why'd you wait?" Stiles asked. "You had to have known I wanted you the whole time."

Derek's lips twitched at the corners like he had known, had been able to smell whatever hormonal, desirous pheromones he'd been putting out all through high school.

"You needed to live first," Derek whispered. "Finish high school. Turn eighteen."

"I did all of those things ages ago. I finished college, dude. I'm twenty-two. I've been legal for ages."

"And you'd never have gone to college - never have left Beacon Hills, maybe not even have survived, if I'd stayed here or acted on this," Derek pointed out. "So I left because I wanted you to have the choice. I didn't want you to feel tied here by starting something with you when you were too young and stupid to know what you wanted."

"You..." Stiles trailed off, lost for words because it was true.

Leaving his Dad in Beacon Hills to ship off to the FBI Academy and then to college in New York when the FBI threw him out had been hard enough. Stiles couldn't imagine having ever left if he'd also had a lover tying him here.

"But now that I've graduated? Now that I've come home?"

"I don't want to wait anymore," Derek shrugged.

Stiles had to be dreaming.

"Did you leave town so I wouldn't be tempted to stay? Is that why you left with Cora and never came home?" Stiles whispered.

Derek nodded. Stiles heart might've been melting.

"Der..."

"You want to stay now, right?" Derek whispered. "You said... you said the nemeton's growing back? That you want to be here, close to your dad?"

"I do," Stiles nodded. "It feels right, being here."

Derek kissed him again, and Stiles clung to him, kissing back desperately despite his confusion and overwhelming arousal.

"Is this okay?" Derek whispered when they broke apart again.

"So okay," Stiles rasped. "So freaking okay, dude. Holy crap, you have no idea how long I've waited to kiss you."

"Since the day we met?" Derek guessed. "Or was that just me?"

Stiles might swoon, actually.

"You did not just say that to me," he giggled. "Sourwolf, you hated me at the beginning. You were always snarling at me."

Derek only nuzzled back into his neck, scenting him all over again and biting him several times.

"Oh my god, wait... were you always snarling at me because you were mad you wanted me? Dude! Did you get all growly and shove me into stuff because you secretly wanted to fuck my brains out the entire time?"

Stiles cut off with a low moan of ecstasy when the next bite was hard enough to bruise and accompanied by Derek's hands sliding to his ass, squeezing it firmly, and grinding their bodies together.

"Boys!? Coffee's ready!" Noah shouted from downstairs, and Stiles whimpered because he was achingly hard and didn't want to stop.

"If I say yes..." Derek murmured into Stiles's ear, nibbling the lobe. "Will you let me?"

Stiles was fairly certain his moan was more than answer enough.

[stacinadia]

For @sterekdrabbles! I barely wrote at all last year, so I thought I'd start doing some Sterek Drabbles again! January 6th's prompt was awesome, devilish, arrest, and it made me think of pranking someone, particularly Mr. Harris! XD

Also on AO3.

**********

“Stiles, are you really sure this is a good idea?” Scott whispered nervously.

“It’s an awesome idea,” Stiles hissed back.  “Mr. Harris has had it out for me all year long, and he deserves some payback!  Now come help me unload all this toilet paper.”  He grinned, a devilish glint in his eye.

“You’re gonna get arrested, probably by your own father,” Scott complained as he helped his best friend empty his Jeep.  “And my mom’ll kill me.  Shouldn’t your boyfriend be helping, too?”

“I am,” came Derek’s voice from behind them.

Stiles beamed.  “See?  We’ll all be delinquents together!”

[devilmademewriteit]

Javier Peña & Joel Miller Headcanons (drabbles?)

another smutty edition. ohmygod this is filth.

warnings: rough sex/smut (oh boy. oral [both receiving], fingering, masturbation, cockwarming… & prolly more) so 18+ only content; stepdad!joel (againimsorry); dbf!joel; slapping, spanking, spitting; age gap; bratty!reader; smoking; petnames (sweetheart, angel, babygirl, baby) dubcon (coercion, intoxication, imbalanced power dynamic); like I said this is just pure filth—dead dove, do not eat.

Thank u guys for all the love on the last one !! I’ve got longer pieces coming soon, but in the meantime, enjoy this depravity based on yalls requests!! I’m going to hell!!

Join the taglist if you want moreeeeeee.

-em<3

—

Javi’s “boredom breaks” at work involved stealing you from behind your desk & coaxing you into giving him head from the passenger side of his Jeep Cherokee. Parked or driving, busy street or deserted parking lot, it was all the same to him—which meant onlookers, inevitably. Peña was indispensable at the embassy, so the voyeurs didn’t bother him, and he assured you that “nobody’s gonna recognize the receptionist by the back of her fuckin’ head.” In a dusty, empty side-street, Javier’s cock rhythmically prods the back of your throat. With one hand straddling the back of your neck, he grinds out a “fuck yeah, jus’ like that,” between deep pulls off his cigarette, ashing it out the open window with a quick flick of his fingernail.

“It’s fuckin’ hot, watching you take calls from all those corporate big-shots when I know you still got the taste of my cum on your tongue.”

Joel’s favourite position was doggy-style. Especially with both your hands pinned behind your back in his much larger, much stronger one; especially when your teasing had earned you some good-old-fashioned discipline. “Someone’s gotta fuck the brat outta you.” He’d pull out every time, even when you begged him not to, all so he could watch his hot seed spilling onto the red handprints branding your ass. But that always happened after he took in the swooping arch of your back, the way your skin yielded to his with every lazy slap he delivered to it—and, oh, your muffled sobs following his: “tell me—where’s that fuckin’ attitude get you?”

“S’right, sweetheart. Gets you on your knees, takin’ cock facedown like a lil’ slut.”

Sometimes, Javier just wanted to watch. “Show me, hermosa, how do you touch yourself when I’m away?” He’d relax in the armchair, an attentive audience member as he drank in the sight of you spread out on the bed, sliding a hand between your thighs. Those dark eyes never left yours, not even when he had to palm himself through his denim to relieve the aching desire building underneath. “Can tell you’ve been practicing for me.” & you’d finish with his name on your tongue, taking care to put every detail of your climax on display for him.

“You could be fuckin’ famous, y’know. I could film you just like that—my very own pornstar.”

One late-night in your father’s living room, you worked up the nerve to ask Joel to take your virginity so that it’d “be with someone who I like, who’ll take good care of me.” & he did such a good job, easing in oh-so-slowly, searching your eyes for any ounce of pain as he stretched you wide, wiiide open for him. “Fuck, maybe m’not the best person for this, sweetheart,” and it might’ve been true ‘cause his cock was almost too big to fit, squeezing in so, so tight between your fluttering walls. But eventually, it did, and then your dad’s best friend was rocking into you, muffling your soft cries of surprise, pain, pleasure, lust, abandon, and need in his palm.

“Sshh, sshh, s’alright, baby, s’alright. Jus’ focus on me, yeah? ‘Else your dad’s gonna find out I broke in his lil’ princess.”

Javi had never considered himself to be a jealous man. He was something of a sexual communist: cheating wasn’t cheating if it was just fucking, girlfriends were made to be shared, and only a self-denying idiot turned down any version of a threesome. But after that first time with you? That was all over. He’d have you straddling his lap on the brink of explosion, cunt dripping onto his bare thighs before finally lowering you onto every hard inch of himself—only to keep you still, his personal lil’ cockwarmer. “Tell me you’re mine, baby, tell me this pussy’s mine.” Saying the words wasn’t always enough for either of you to actually believe them, so Javi would fuck you—hard—until they were true, until he was certain that you belonged to him. Till he tore cries of worship from your lips and orgasms from your cunt.

“I know, querida, feels so good to surrender, don’t it?”

Stepdad!Joel picking you up from a party in his big ol’ truck with a couple of his drinking buddies tagging along. This time, he lets you sit in the front. “Ain’t she a stunner?” Blushing as the others mumble in agreement. Soon, Joel’s rough hand is crawling up your thigh. “We thought up a way you could thank us for the ride, angel.” Your cunt warms at the feel of his fingers slipping between your folds. It starts to pulse at the idea of being filled so full by 3 men at once, and it nearly aches at the thought of pleasing Joel. “You’re a big girl now, ain’t that right?” Parking the car, pulling you onto his lap, bunching your shirt up above your tits and exposing you to a car-full of leering eyes.

“N’ big girls take care of more’n just one cock at a time, sweetheart.”

It was obvious from the start that Peña, Murphy, and (especially) Carrillo didn’t abide by any kind of rule book in the field. It shocked you, nonetheless, the first time you watched Agent Peña put a bullet through a sicario‘s head. “We’re the good guys, sweetheart.” But it didn’t feel that way. For months, it didn’t feel that way, and you refused to be alone in a room with him. Not because he scared you, but because you were afraid of how his gratuitous violence had excited you. You managed to avoid him, until, one afternoon, he cornered you in the filing room—like a writhing tail caught in a mousetrap—his amused expression underpinned by a familiar kind of danger.

“You wanna pretend I’m the bad guy? S’fine, querida, I can live with that. But your pussy’s wet just thinkin’ about it, so at least have the decency to let me fuck you like one.”

When Joel ate you out, it was always as a reward. He liked doing it, of course, but he was an impatient man who worshipped the feel of a woman’s cunt wrapped around his cock (he’d cut blowjobs short for god’s sake, pulling you mid-gag off his length just to fuck you, instead). You memorized how pretty he looked with his head between your thighs, grey-speckled beard glistening with your very own slick. “F’you keep squirmin’ around like that, angel, m’gonna have to tie you up. Stay put.” Thighs hitched over his broad shoulders, voice hoarse from the never-ending moans his mouth and his fingers enticed from you over and over and over again. “Been such a good listener, baby,” and your fingers ran through his hair, streams of freshwater gushing between great, snow-flecked pines. But the best part came after: even his praise didn’t compare to the feel of his thumb against your chin, prying you open as he spat a wad of saliva onto your tongue.

“Open up for me, tha’s right. Y’see how good that pretty lil’ pussy tastes?”

Bonus fluff/angst:

He’d never meant to hurt you, of course. Javi wasn’t the greatest at the whole ~relationship~ thing, and even though you hadn’t defined whatever it was that, together, you shared, it still hurt like hell, finding out he was still screwing around. He hadn’t broken any promises, per se, but your crestfallen expression made him feel as though he’d committed a federal offence. “Baby, if I’da known…” and he’s kneeling down, (praying at the foot of your altar), gazing up at you with plea-filled, onyx black eyes before pressing his forehead to your abdomen, holding your hips between his hands as if you were sacred to him.

“I just… I need you like the fuckin’ air I breathe, hermosa. I hate myself for hurting you.”

You’d always had a bit of a school girl crush on dad’s best friend, Joel. Who could blame you? He was capable, funny, handsome—and oh, how you hated bringing friends over while he was in the house, too, ‘cause they giggled and flirted with him and it made you livid. This time, you actually had to step into the garage and light up a sneaky smoke just to find some fucking peace again. That’s where he found you, leaning defeatedly against the beer fridge; you frantically put the smoking tip out, cursing yourself for your carelessness. Joel raised his eyebrows at the cigarette before smiling in amusement. Then, he surprised you by pressing a big, warm, tender palm to your cheek.

“You’re always gonna be my favourite. You know that, right?”

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @bookofbee @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @maudlinflowers @inkedells @ayehomo @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @buckysmainhxe @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal

[lunarw0rks]

hi!! just wanted to stop in and give an idea ig

141 with a reader who’s like a mother hen after a mission, making sure everyone’s not injured, and god forbid they are, she’s trying to stop the bleeding, and scolding soap for being so reckless!! even after they get back to base after a long day, she’s fussy.

IDK JUST A RANDOM BLURB??

A/N: Such a cute idea, not one I would've thought of on my own! Hope I did the request justice <3

Summary: It's in your nature, the motherly role you feel towards the other members of the Task Force. Patching up their injuries, and scolding the two most reckless ones, it's all become routine.

Warning(s): platonic!141, fem!reader, canon-typical violence, blood/minor injury mention, mild language, suggestive banter, no use of y/n

Word Count: 2.1k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

Troublemakers // Drabble

Though you hadn’t said a word on the ride back, at least outside of ones pertaining to the operation, the look on your face said enough. For every mission, no matter the time and place, something goes wrong—someone gets hurt.

“Anybody broken?” Captain Price comes through the comms, the static crackling through the jeep.

“Everybody’s fine, Captain. For now.” Your voice hissed back into the radio, eyes scanning their faces for any signs of an injury. Right now, there weren’t any signs. But the second this jeep stopped, there was no way in hell they were getting past you without you at least checking. It had become your unofficial job; the mother of the team, the medic without an official title, even the ‘buzzkill’ at some points.

There was no time to fuss over them at first, during evac. Everyone had piled into the vehicles too quickly, and you were eager to get out of there just as much. You were a natural nurturer, but not blinded by your instincts—there was a chain of command, after all. When your Captain says to evac, you evac, no questions.

Once the titles and formalities fizzled out, once the comms went quiet, that side of you always came out.

The jeep was moving at high speeds, and the passing landscape was a blur. A secluded, abandoned field where the operation went wrong; the taperings of town turning into the city; fizzled out until it turned into the secluded dry field again—when you reached the base.

In usual fashion, everyone got out first, and you last.

It was second nature, ushering them out like a clown car, then examining the inside of the empty vehicle to make sure nobody forgot anything. It was comical to them, so comical they still shot amused looks as you cased the car. Any further into this role, and you would start saying “C’mon kids” every time you went somewhere with them.

Another challenge to their chivalry was the way you held the door open for each of them, eyes glued to them as pursed your lips in discontent. But, they knew the drill just as well as you did.

First, you peered at Simon, though he just walked by with his usual scowl, probably finding a dark corner to brood in. He was the only one you didn’t bother to fuss over, unless you wanted to get chewed out, naturally.

It was the other two you were the most concerned about—Gaz and Soap, the troublemakers. If you could call them that in the field, you would have a thousand times already, and most likely more than that, knowing them.

Heavy sighs filled the room, sweaty brows wiped as they relieved their bodies of the extra pounds their gear gave them. Vests and buckles undone, muscles stretched as the adrenaline coursing through each of you steadied itself.

For once, you were also overjoyed to see the bland walls of this base, and them too, as much as they gave you grief. Each mission was like watching a toddler climb up to the top of a playset, waiting for the inevitable injury that comes once they fall—and every time, your hammering heart nearly came through your chest.

Yes, they were grown men, trained soldiers, but that instinct still prevailed. You couldn’t trust them with your life if they didn’t have theirs, could you? The world kept turning, and the clocks kept ticking, all as long as you played your maternal part in this arrangement.

You squinted at the two troublemakers, that gut instinct showing itself. “You sure nothing went wrong, you two? No blood?” It was a series of accusations, not naive questions. You knew something was up, there was that bubbling in your chest.

Gaz’s lip tightened into a line like he was trying not to reveal the truth. “No blood.” What a liar, and a bad one at that. Knowing these two, Soap was probably pinching his skin where you couldn’t see, trying to contort it until you were left with no suspicions.

There was no way you could force the truth out, so if they didn’t want your help, they weren’t getting it from you.

With a slow nod, you began to take off your own gear, gathering your pack and all the extras. Perhaps, for once, it would be a happy ending. You would settle into your dorm, lay back on your cot, and catch up on some paperwork, maybe even some light reading—

Well, that fantasy came about as quickly as it went.

Soap’s palm was hovering over his side, letting out a grunt of pain when he put his backpack over his shoulders. He had turned so abruptly, nearly scampering down to reach his own dorm. But he wasn’t quick enough, and your iron grip on his wrist—it was as unyielding as your grit.

“C’mon, I’m fine, Lass.” Soap grunts, like a child embarrassed when his mother dabs his face with a napkin. “It’s just a—”

“—a scratch?” You scoff, lightly smacking your free hand against his tender side. No matter how tough he was, how well he thought he was going to hide it, he had keeled over and held the spot you barely made contact with.

Gaz was attempting to contain his laughter, which was only met with the kick of one of Soap’s legs to his shin.

You couldn’t believe it, from causing trouble and bickering to working as a team and failing miserably.

The grip on Soap’s wrist loosened, instead now on the strap of his bag, gently sliding it off his tender shoulder. “Let me look at it, please.” You pleaded, trying to keep your tone both firm but concerned all at once. It seems it wasn’t just a scratch; once again you were right.

“I got nothin’ but admiration for you, why do you do this to me?” Soap whines, still not budging and letting you examine the wounds.

You ran your tongue over the inside of your cheek, cocking a brow at him. “Sit down, Johnny. Now.”

Your finger was pointing at one of the spare dining chairs in the kitchenette, and it wasn’t a request either. He knew that by now. Soap could try and swoon you, butter you up until you left it alone, but it wouldn’t work.

“Yes, ma’am.” His tone was defeated, but he still had a smirk on his face, like he was enjoying the attention.

Gaz snickered from behind you, and you could hear him begin his trek out of the room. “Better to just listen to the lady, or she won’t stop.”

Before you could even lay eyes on Soap’s injury, your head snapped in Gaz’s direction. He was on just as thin of ice, he was only lucky you could tolerate his jokes. “You’re part of this too, Gaz. I suggest you don’t wander too far.”

It was ironic; men who had worked so hard, trained to kill, and yet, they were downright gutless when in your sights, especially when caught in a lie.

All apart from Simon, who maintained the same distance with you as everyone else—that you could accept, it was just the way he was. But from these two clowns? Not for a second.

It wasn’t coming from thin air, either, this was a two-sided deal. The first time you were injured in the field, you attempted to diminish it, to write it off and suffer by yourself. It went about as well for you as it was for Soap right now—forced into a chair and stitched up with an icy glare, one that says “don’t ever do that again” without any actual words surfacing.

That’s how you knew this wasn’t in vain, even if your work didn’t always come with a response of gratitude.

You were strong where they were weak—and in return, they would quite literally kill for you, in and out of the field. God knows you’ve had to hold them back more than a few times; order comes out wrong at the restaurant, you get ghosted after a date, or someone insults your abilities as a soldier? It’s a mess.

Your eyes stayed on Soap’s pout through the reflection of the window above the sink, scrubbing away the grime on your hands before you got to work on him. In mere minutes, you’d retrieved the very used first aid kit, laying out any supplies you might need. Knowing him, it could be as small as a papercut, or a gushing wound under the fabric of his shirt.

He had already removed his, cheeks rosy and lips crinkled like you hadn’t seen this a thousand times. Not to mention, you were patching him up, not asking for a striptease. He was the one making things awkward, for the record.

Aside from the dirt, the scars, and small scrapes, it was an injury that needed to be looked at, regardless of how stubborn the patient was. A nasty bruise was forming on his peck area and below it a gash with some tiny glass shards still embedded in it. The shoulder had no visible injury, but based on how tender the skin was, he had sprained it again.

“Christ. How do you manage this? It was a simple sweep mission, MacTavish.” You shook your head in disapproval, putting on a pair of disposable gloves with a loud snap of the blue latex.

He takes the hits like a dog that knows he’s in trouble, only it's a look of acceptance rather than apprehension. It was coming from a place of care, not anger, and by God did Soap’s reckless behavior make your heart drop often.

Your rambles continued, almost as if you were talking to yourself. Your fingers worked carefully, using the tweezers to get any debris out of there.

“Can you do anything about this, Captain?” Soap’s words made your work slow, not stop.

“No, I cannot, Sergeant.” Even Price was aware of this dynamic, and frankly, he was thankful for it, one less person to worry about getting in trouble. You scolded it, didn’t partake in it—and that left less paternal instincts of his own to run dry.

Price’s boots retreated without another word, probably to work tirelessly in his office for the rest of the night. Now, it was clear to Soap that there really was no way out of this, no way to shimmy away from your caring nature.

Might as well take advantage of it the only way he knew how. “You look like you need a drink, Lass. Always so tense.”

You stared up at him through your lashes, wrapping the gauze a little tighter than you usually would. What were you supposed to say to that? He was right, you could use a drink, but he wasn’t going to get the satisfaction of being right—being right was your job.

Before you could utter a witty response, Simon spoke up for the first time since the mission. “She has a scalpel at the ready, Johnny. I would tread lightly if I were you.” For once, his cynical humor had landed on your side, and it nearly made you spit out a laugh, if you weren’t so focused.

If you were as childish as Soap, you might’ve said I told you so, but your stern look said enough. After you finished disinfecting the wounds, you bandaged them up, patting the cotton with your fingers to make it stick.

“All better now, just don’t do it again.” A satisfied beam appeared on your face, that worry in your gut dissipating when he was patched up. “Please?” Now, it was desperate and anxiety-filled.

He probably would do something like this again, but maybe next time he would at least think first, and you could live with that.

Soaps fingers find his shirt, slipping it over his head slowly with a pained groan. “I can’t promise that.” Then, they find the nearest bottle of whiskey, in true fashion for him. “But I’ll find you first next time, ask permission to get hurt.”

You scoffed and let out a sarcastic ha-ha, but stepped back enough to give him space, discarding the gloves into the waste basket. Once he had collected his things, keeping them in his uninjured arm this time, a cheek smirk appeared again.

He waited until you had turned your back to wash your hands again, and to be safe, a few feet further from you. “Thanks, Mom.” Soap turned on his heels and whipped around the corner, down the hall before you could show him your face of shock.

On second thought, maybe next time he wouldn’t have to ask to get hurt, and it would be your own two hands making him pay for that comment.

[ajortga]

home

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: nothing feels more than home to jenna than you.

word count: 800+ (drabble)

a/n: wanted to get this out there as a thank you, we reached 400 followers! words actually cannot describe how grateful i am that people appreciate the stories i write. i really hope they can make your day<3.

hey alexa, play home by edith whiskers.

You yearn to feel the sense of hope and comfort.

Home.

Not the home that shields Jenna as she sleeps, a roof over her head.

But at the same time, it is that.

Not the home that she wakes up in everyday when she wakes up for breakfast, the aroma of her mom’s cooking fills the air,

The TV turned on, her older and younger siblings playing in the living room. 

Not the home that holds her, her yorkie terrier and her family.

Or the home that shakes as Aliyah and her jump on the bed with Cash.

No, not that.

Home.

As much as she loved her family, nothing could compare to you, no one.

Jenna could remember her words as she strummed her guitar, a gentle hum filling her room.

“Alabama Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa, not the way that I do love you.’

The only home she’ll be the first to run to when she has news.

“We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night”

As Jenna strums to her whistling, she remembers running across the sandy coast with the palette of the sunset around you. Shades of orange, yellow, pink, and baby blue hues. Holding hands with you as you two laugh and run with each other barefoot during the summer. The sweetest memory she’s ever experienced. A moment that she never felt could be better. If she could go back to one memory before she died, she’d choose that one. With you, cupping your cheeks as you two kiss as dawn was welcomed, during her favorite season of the year.

Giggling as you both collapse on the sunlit meadow on a warm summer night, bodies wrapped around each other.

“Nothing is sweeter than with you.”

Oh you were everything to her, her best friend, girlfriend, soulmate, universe.

-

When Jenna’s boyfriend broke up with her, she sobbed on her pillow, she never told you when you came over that she pretended that it was you.

She didn’t know why it might’ve helped, it’s warmth reminding her of you, it made her hug it tighter.

“La-la-la-la-la take me home”

That day Jenna’s heart was shattered, you were the one to bring it back together, her sobbing in your warm arms as you comforted her, your hands scratching her scalp in the perfect way.

You told her she could stay over, she sobbed in your arms, fell asleep as soon as her body reached your arms, melting in your presence.

The next day you made her her favorite heart shaped nutella pancakes that she always asked for when she sleeps over at your house, she knew that whenever you made her it, it was always sweeter when you made it. 

She closes her eyes and remembers it, all too vividly. A smile comes across Jenna's face as she changes the chords, her fingers strumming again.

"Girl I never loved one like you."

Even if someone were to take every single step of your recipe and memorize the grains of salt and sugar you used, it was never the same, she knows your baking by heart. 

Drives in your jeep as you two interlock hands. Travels all over the world, shares of gelato ice cream and sweet moments. 

Deep gazes into eyes as a blanket wraps around the both of you. A soft kiss planted on your forehead as you fall asleep on her chest with the campfire crackling in front of you. 

She remembered when she first realized she loved you.

To have you first in her mind when she wanted to spend time with someone. Craving your cookies, your time spent together, those soft lips she always looked at as you talked.

To have someone listen to her strumming the guitar, to have them admire her voice and closed off side. Her little Y/N on her shoulder. To be so in love that she wrote this song for you.

You loved her.

Her freckles you counted as you’re curled up by her side, her soft hands. Her.

Your first encounter, meeting her on set and immediately feeling you two click.

Your first date together, when she accidentally spilled a coffee on your white shirt and you busted out laughing.

Your first kiss.

When she asked you to be your girlfriend, officially. You wanted to be with her forever. 

Jenna was the first person in your life to calm your storm down. You were the person who struggled falling asleep, it didn’t happen easily, but in her arms, it did. You were always gone as soon as she pressed your nose into her neck.

You were each others homes, you wanted to stay with her, to always be assured by her.

As the song comes to a close, she looks up at the polaroid picture of you two. The orange hue from the salt lamp the only source of light. Polaroids hung of you and her all across her string of fairy lights. Her walls were filled with her girlfriend. And as her fingers pluck the strings, Jenna smiles faintly. The song nears the end as she sings the last of the lyrics.

"Oh, home, let me come home Home is wherever I'm with you"

-

i love this song sm it's crazy.

[fandom-oneshots-etc]

Hello! I'd love to see Jacob Black and/or Edward or Emmett Cullen with a single mama. She was given custody of the 1.5 yr old when his or her parents(reader's friends) passed. The little one is ENAMORED with whomever you write it for(like silently follows them/copies them when they're doing something it's just adorable.) Please and thank you!!!

🍄 Pairing: Emmett Cullen x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff

🍄 Summary: Emmett is about to meet the one year old that you took in after your best friend died and surprisingly your toddler's not the one who's nervous...

🍄 Word Count: 1852

🍄 Abbreviations: (t/c) - Toddler's name

🍄 Warnings: None

🍄 Note: Thank you for the request @twilightlover2007! I hope this is what you were looking for, I had a lot of fun writing this. There might even be some Little Bee drabbles in the near future... ♡

(E/c). Bright, shining, (e/c) eyes. That was the first thing that had caught your attention in the hospital that night a year ago. Despite the heartbreak and despair that had gripped at your heart as the Chief of Police stood in front of you, his words seeming to merge together, barely decipherable through your sobs, the second you stepped through those hospital doors your life changed. Surprisingly, for the better. The tragedy of your friend’s death had become a new shining ray of hope in your life as you took on single motherhood. The tot was barely six months at the time of her parents’ death, but you had, had the joy of watching her turn into the one year old she was today.

Your eyes fluttered back and forth as you watched the hulk of a vampire pace in front of you. Emmett had always been a bundle of energy. You had said from the start that he was like a toddler on a sugar high almost a hundred percent of the time. But this was a different kind of energy than the one you were used to. You were used to the boisterous and bouncy vampire you had come to know and love, but this was a new kind of energy. You had never seen Emmett this nervous. If you hadn’t been parked outside of the daycare center you were sure he’d be blurring back and forth in the trees, his ‘human’ pacing just didn’t seem to cut it.

Your eyes glanced to the door of the daycare center as yet another toddler disappeared with it’s parents into the parking lot. You knew soon that the nursery assistant of (t/n)’s class would poke her head out of the curtains wondering where you were. You were never usually late.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands, you pushed off where you had been resting against the jeep and forced yourself to stand directly in Emmett’s path. But Emmett didn’t miss a step and circled around you, stopping at the end of the jeep and twisting to circle back just as he had been doing prior. You reached out a hand and rested it on his arm as he made to pass you again and held on as tightly as your human strength would allow.

“Babe, stop,” you muttered and Emmett came to a stand still beside you. You paused for a moment to make sure that he wouldn’t start pacing again before dropping your hand to your side. “What’s going on?” Your eyes searched his face for any indication as to what had brought on this nervous energy, but nothing. “I thought you were excited to meet her? If you’ve changed your mind that’s fine-” An uncomfortable lump grew in your throat at the thought of him changing his mind.

You wouldn’t dare hold it against him if he did. But the lump in your throat stayed prominent. (T/n) came along with you. There was no way around that and that meant Emmett wouldn’t be able to stay if he decided he didn’t want anything to do with (t/c).You shook your head softly to dispel the cloudy thoughts. Your poker face must not have been as good as you thought as Emmett’s golden gaze locked with yours almost frantically.

“No, no. It’s not that,” he sighed. You reached out and linked your hand with his, rubbing soothing circles on his marble skin. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want to meet her, I do, it’s just...” His lips pursed together as he searched for the right words. “I mean, what if… what if I hurt her?” Confusion flickered across your features.

“Babe, where is this coming from? You never worried about this before.” You waited for an answer but there was nothing. “Look, you’re great with Renesmee-”

“Yeah, but Renesmee’s half vampire.”

“And half-human,” you reminded. “And you’re great with me too and I’m a hundred percent human. At least the last time I checked I was.” And still were to yours and Emmett’s knowledge. “Emmett, there is no one I trust more with (t/c) than you. And I know for a fact that the second she see’s you, she’s going to love you. I know I did. So prepare yourself, you’re about to be trapped forever.” You giggled.

Emmett’s lips tugged a little at the corners.

“Was this your master plan? Make me fall in love with you and then get your toddler to trap me?” He offered you a dimpled grin. “Cause baby, let me tell you, I’m not going anywhere, you’re like a drug and I’m already hooked. You’re stuck with me.” He lowered his head down to rest his lips against yours and captured them in a short but heart-racing kiss. His lips danced against yours, pulling you in closer with his hands on your hips against his firm chest.

A light giggle broke through the parking lot silence as another father passed by you with his son in his arms, asking about his day. You pulled back from Emmett and blinked hazily up at him for a moment. He always seemed to reduce you to nothing with his kisses, they always engulfed you entirely even if you were the one initiating it. Your heart thudded against your chest and your cheeks darkened as Emmett smirked down at you, no doubt hearing every shudder your heart made against your ribcage.

“Come on,” You entwined your fingers with Emmett’s and turned to tug him gently towards the daycare center. As you neared the entrance, your eyes glanced to the Sunflower Room window where the curtain twitched and the familiar red headed woman appeared to peek through the curtains just as you had expected. Lila was a lovely nursery assistant and (t/n) loved her. She had always been kind to her and was never judgmental towards your circumstances.

Just as you reached the doors, Lila appeared and buzzed you in.

“Hey,” she beamed as you entered, tugging a slightly awkward Emmett behind you. “I was just about to start wondering where you were. I take it this is Emmett?” Emmett nodded and smiled politely. “Well, it’s great to finally meet you. I’m Lila, (t/c)’s nursery assistant.”

You followed to the door of the Sunflower Room and Lila pushed it open. One of the other helpers was just clearing away some of the colouring that had been left out. You’re eyes rested on your little (h/c) toddler sat on the floor with her stuffed elephant and some other stuffed animals that she had collected from the corner of the Sunflower Room. She was babbling incoherently which she had been doing for a couple of months now, she had always been quite a vocal baby.

“(t/c),” Lila called over. “Look who’s here.” (t/c) turned her head at Lila’s voice and locked eyes with you instantly. Just as it always did, there was a light tug in your heart as her bright (e/c) eyes stared at you, seemingly looking into your soul. Your lips pulled into a wide smile as the little tot grinned a toothless grin and pushed herself up onto her feet. It had been nearly three months since she had perfected her walking without tumbling to the ground every time she stood on her own feet. And she was fast too. In seconds she was clumsily running over to you.

Her arms were splayed wide as she came towards you, you released Emmett’s hand to drop into a crouch and allow her to slip her arms around your neck. You peppered kisses all over her face as she giggled furiously. You finally stopped with a little giggle of your own as she looked back around for Lila, but instead her eyes locked on Emmett. Your eyes flickered between (t/c) and Emmett. (t/c)’s nose scrunched as she stared up at the unfamiliar man. It was almost comical to see your large teddy bear of a boyfriend acting more sheepish than a one year old, but you knew his nerves were still present.

“Ah?” (t/c) turned back to look at you, seemingly waiting for an explanation, her small head tilted to the side much like a puppy.

“This, my little bumblebee, is Emmett, my boyfriend,” You knew that she wouldn’t necessarily understand what you were saying, but a formal introduction felt right. “And Emmett, this little bumblebee is (t/c).” You offered him an encouraging smile. Emmett dropped into a small crouch, and even then he still towered over you and (t/c). She continued to study him silently as he smiled at her with a little wave.

“Em?” she hummed. “Em. Em!” (t/c) pulled out of your embrace and shuffled over to stand in front of Emmett, her little palms coming to rest on his cheeks as she continued to repeat ‘Em!’ excitedly. You couldn’t help but let out a little huff laugh as she moved to grab one of his hands and tugged him across the room towards the plush rainbow carpet laid across the ground. She dropped his hand and lowered her body to pat her hand on the carpet, then looked up at Emmett expectantly. The poor vampire turned to you baffled as she did it again, seemingly more impatient this time.

“She wants you to sit,” Emmett nodded and lowered himself onto the ground, awkwardly crossing his legs looking a little uncomfortable.

You watched closely as the little (h/c) haired tot trotted over to the shelves in the book corner and selected the one she wanted, you briefly saw the cover and recognized it as the book My Monster and Me by Nadiya Hussain, which you had recently brought for home. You’d been reading it religiously since you’d brought it home from the store and it was one of her favourites. The toddler wandered back over to Emmett, his eyes following her every move. He straightened his back as she approached and turned herself around so that her back was facing him, she dropped down into his lap, her little legs raising above the floor as they didn’t quite reach over his stretched ones.

(t/c) wasted no time, she flipped open the cover of the book. Emmett, thinking that she wanted him to read to her, started to speak but in a second her hand was pressed to his mouth, her little eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh, uh, uh,” She shook her head firmly. She pressed her finger to her lips indicating to him to be quiet. When she turned back to the book, she began ‘reading’ to him. Not that she was giving any of the actual words, instead it was just the toddler gibberish she had picked up, but that didn’t make the scene any less adorable. Three pages into the story, you caught Emmett’s eye. He offered you a soft smile. In that moment you knew everything was going to be okay and that (t/c) had just gained herself another protector for life.

[sad-girl-hours23]

Just some musings on domestic bucktommy (from when I was writing my drabble series)

Dating a fellow first responder means their schedules often don’t align for weeks. Sometimes this requires ignoring other responsibilities so they can steal some time together. More often, it takes meticulous planning (Buck’s specialty) and inviting each other into the mundanity of their lives.

They’ve only got about twenty-four hours together, and they’ll be sleeping through most of them, so Buck lets himself into Tommy’s with the key he gave him six months into their relationship. He puts a load of dirty clothes in the washer; smiles when he finds an LAFD shirt with Buckley on the back, looking more stretched out than the last time he’d worn it. Laundry started, Buck starts on dinner, Bobby’s lasagna.

Buck’s mentally checking items off his list, these domestic moments becoming a welcome routine.

Tommy gets home; they eat, talk about their days, then go to bed.

Buck has taken over as big spoon tonight, his arm wrapped around Tommy’s middle. Tommy’s breathing evens out as Buck goes over the plan for the next day: Buck will let Tommy sleep in while he goes for his morning run (his heart stutters when he thinks of how something as simple as having a favorite route at Tommy’s place makes him feel so settled); then he’ll start brewing coffee before his shower, Tommy will be waking up then (sometimes he’ll join Buck, Buck calculates for this now so it doesn’t push back their schedule); they’ll eat at their favorite breakfast place around the corner so they don’t have to worry about dishes and Tommy’s fridge is looking a little bare as it is, and Buck will probably never be over showing off his boyfriend; then they’ll stop at one of their favorite bookstores, The Ripped Bodice. It’s always best for Buck to be a) chaperoned and b) on a time limit, when it comes to bookstores. Tommy will adhere to the one book limit, but Buck will walk out with at least three (he hasn’t been there in months, okay?); then they’ll stop at the hardware store, get the supplies they need for the little garden Tommy’s been planning for months. Next is the main event, the grocery store. They’ll argue over the semantics of necessities, and Tommy will still buy Buck’s top three favorite cereals anyway, and all of Jee’s favorite snacks are necessary actually, Evan. Buck will feel incredibly fond and a little like he’s getting away with something, because how is he allowed to have this? Then, they’ll make a quick-ish stop at Tommy’s favorite plant nursery, the reminder that they have groceries waiting for them in the truck, the only thing stopping Tommy from spending the rest of daylight there.

They’ll get home, put away their groceries, and Tommy will make them lunch, and they’ll eat on the backyard patio. Then Buck will start on his pile of books as Tommy changes the oil in his truck, then Buck’s jeep. Buck has no problem doing it himself, but Tommy loves doing things for him (especially when it’s something Buck could easily do himself and who is Buck to deny him that?)

Buck’s half asleep, half awake now as he cuddles impossibly closer to Tommy, savoring this moment while eager for tomorrow and all the domestic Saturdays he can get.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Setting Boundaries

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: PG13 (form mentions of adult topics)

Summary: Javi realizes he can’t have his cake and eat it too.

A/N: I started writing husband!Javi as a married man, but I often wonder what it was like in the beginning when he and his now wife didn’t intent to have anything serious… So here’s a little drabble from that

“What are you doing here Javier?” She asked him, head leaned back on her headboard as she came down from her last orgasm.

“Huh?” He asked, confused. She had called him over… Did he interpret it wrong? And if he did, why would she let him know after they’d fucked?

“I want to know what you want. From me.”

“Think I showed you what I want from you, baby,” he teased before leaning in to kiss her. She turned her head, his lips pressing on her cheek instead. She was in no mood for lighthearted banter.

“What do you mean?”

“You never stay the night, which tells me that this is just sex. And then you cook me fancy Mexican food for dinner in my kitchen and then I think there’s something more. You haven’t introduced me to any of your friends and I’m back to thinking there’s nothing more between us. But then you drive me to the fucking market and back and tell you you don’t want me carrying all that stuff by myself. But then you won’t be seen in public with me. Or meet my friends. But then you kiss me on the forehead and remember my coffee order and send me gifts because I got tenure—” she stopped to let out a sigh. “It’s not— it’s giving me whiplash, Javi.”

He tucked his gun and badge back in his jeans but stood in place instead of leaving. She was right. He was giving her mixed messages, pushing her away and pulling her back in. Romancing her in the privacy of her apartment but leaving once he was done exacting his name out of her lips.

But she didn’t say she wanted anything serious. And he had made it clear that with the way his job was, there was no space for anything more. But he had been doing a lot more.

“Carla wants to set me up with her cousin and I don’t even know what to tell her.”

“Do you like Carla’s cousin?” He spat, suddenly incensed.

He was not a possessive man. He slept with prostitutes who had multiple men a day. He never felt jealous. He was alright with his partners having other partners as long as he didn’t catch something. Or worse, make something. But the thought of her sitting across fucking Carla’s fucking cousin at some restaurant made him want to punch a hole in the wall.

“That’s not the point!” She exclaimed, looking away from him as she got dressed. “I don’t even know what his name is. It’s just— I’m in limbo and I have no clue what I’m doing with you. We fuck on schedule but you don’t just…leave. You ask me about my job and make jokes and get me dinner before leaving. You are— It’s fucking with my head, Javier. I need boundaries. Either we just have sex and you stop all the other things— carrying my groceries, sending me gifts, cooking for me, that stuff—or you let me take you out on a date.”

“What do you want from me?” He asked, hoping she would say she just wanted sex. That she didn’t find him worthy of anything except a good fuck to drain the stress of her workday. Because then it wouldn’t be his choice. Then he could tell himself that she was the one who pushed him away, that he never had a chance with her. That date nights and cuddling on the couch were not for men like Javier Peña who’d long stowed their hearts away to stomach what they did on a daily basis.

“I like having sex with you.”

“But?” He asked, knowing there was a but. There always was.

“And,” she emphasized, as though hearing his inner thoughts and needing to argue with it. “I like when you take me to the market. I like you. I just want to know if you like me too or if getting dinner with Carla’s cousin would be cheating.”

He’d never met Carla or her cousin before but if he did, he would run them over with his jeep.

She didn’t ask him to answer immediately. Of course she didn’t. She always had to be reasonable and rational and kind to him. She wasn’t asking anything of him, didn’t demand that they date. She just wanted to know where they stood. Fair enough.

“It wouldn’t be cheating.”

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. She could have dinner with whoever she liked. Carla’s cousins, Tíos, dad. Some fucked up trio with Carla and her husband. It wasn’t his concern. She’d be better off with any of those men.

In retrospect, he should’ve know how mad it would’ve driven him.

.

.

.

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[treasurehuntbuck]

Drabble for #19

god first one out the bat and its a doozy.

#19 - Not Strong Enough by boygenius,

The Diaz kitchen is kind of like a liminal space. The soft light never feels too harsh. It smells perpetually of some combination of allspice and the citrus dish soap Eddie prefers. It's always warm, and sometimes Buck swears he can feel the floor beating beneath his feet, the heart of the house, entrenched in the love Eddie has poured into it. It's always been a safe haven, protecting from the horrors of the outside world, a safe harbor in the storm. The day Eddie blows their lives up the house doesn't lose even a little bit of that warmth, that safety, despite the fact that Buck can feel his own heart shattering where it's trapped in his chest. But he forces a smile, cracks a joke, sits on the couch next to Eddie and listens to a very nice woman talk about the Texas heat, about accommodations and school districts and yard sizes. He laughs in all the right places, gets weirdly intense about bathroom tile, and tries to hold himself together long enough to get out of there without setting fire to the rubble that Eddie has inadvertently left in his wake. Buck refuses to panic until he's back at the loft a few hours later.  He stops dead in his tracks once he's made it inside, sighing, all the fight, all the emotion drawn out of his body with his breath. The thing is– Eddie's not leaving Buck. He knows that. He knows that Eddie is going after Christopher, which is what Buck had been silently begging him to do since Chris got on that fucking plane three months ago. So, it's a good thing! Or it should be. Chris is worth it, he's the most important person ever. Not just to Eddie, but to Buck too, aside from Jee, maybe. That doesn't mean Buck's heart doesn't feel cleaved in two, because Eddie might not be leaving Buck. But he is leaving. And Buck is always the one who gets left behind. He'd never seen this one coming though, it had blindsided him, and he doesn't know how to picture a life without Eddie right there next to him. Losing Chris to Texas had been one of the hardest things Buck's ever dealt with, but it was always supposed to be temporary. If Eddie leaves– If he goes to Texas, if he sells the little bungalow on South Bedford Street, if he packs up his truck and drives halfway across the country? If Eddie leaves, takes Buck's heart right out of his chest, and doesn't come back? Buck doesn't know how to be strong enough for this. He isn't sure how he's supposed to smile through it. How he's supposed to help his best friend box everything up, even the pictures on the fridge, every scrap of proof that they're a family, little and cobbled together, but family. Buck doesn't sleep well that night, or the next. Two weeks later Eddie leaves him standing outside LAX, double doors closing on his heels, with a sense of déjà vu so intense it makes Buck sick to his stomach. He has a hard time getting back into the jeep, the imprint of Eddie's touch still lingering on his shoulder, his reassurance ringing in Buck's ears. He desperately wants to believe him. He doesn't really remember the drive back, but Buck ends up at the Diaz house– his home, their home.   Without thinking, he crawls into Eddie's bed. It still smells like him. Buck sleeps. Three days later, Eddie comes back, one belligerent teenager in tow. When they come through those double doors, Buck has tears on his cheeks and a confession clogging his throat.  It can wait. He'd rather get his boys home.

the spotify wrapped drabbles :)

[meaganvondoom]

Sterek Drabble-All Too Well

"Derek-" Stiles said as he turned, looking at his boyfriend who was driving his jeep very seriously. "-Do you want to talk about it?"

"I cannot think of anything I would like less, if I'm being honest," Derek snarked back, and reached across the gearshift and random detritus, grabbing the younger mans hand. He gently brought it up to his lips and kissed it, and then rubbed his stubble across the worn skin of Stiles' slim fingers.

"Don't distract me with knuckle kisses! You just pulled an All Too Well!"

"Am I supposed to know what that means?" Derek briefly took over driving with his left knee, denim on old steering wheel, so that he he could run his free hand over his face in mock frustration.

" You almost ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me!" Stiles sung the words with the conviction of someone who would know them even when sleeping.

"What is even happening? Is this a Taylor Swift thing?" Derek glowered and pointedly kept his eyes on the road.

"DEREK! You know this song. I have sung it at the top of my lungs a million times. In the car. In the loft. In the shower, where I know you say you don't listen, but I know you do. SOMETIMES you're even in there with me!" Stiles is gesticulating wildly and Derek briefly wonders if he may lose an eye on this drive instead of just his dignity.

"I think you truly underestimate how much I tune you out." Derek turned and grinned, flashing his sky blue eyes at his lover.

"DEEREKKKKK" Stiles sighed dramatically, and slid down as much as he's able to in his seat, with his seatbelt on. Derek snickered softly, and if he started humming a different Taylor Swift song just to frustrate Stiles, then that was no one else's business.

[apocalypseornaw]

Fall Into Me

Dean has realized his feelings for you

Fluffy drabble that wouldn't leave my mind.

Only warning is cursing I think? Mention of sex?

Music, that's the first thing that hit Dean's ears as he got closer to the garage. He realized it was one of your playlists when he heard you singing along "You got that power over me, my my" he started to just lean against the wall and listen because it was rare you let your guard down.

You'd gotten better since breaking up with that asshole ex of yours. Dean nor Sam had liked him in the least and after he'd made some comments about you not being as strong of a hunter as him well Dean had been forced to nearly carry you out of the bar.

---------

That had been nearly a year ago. You now lived with them in the bunker and hunted with them about eighty percent of the time. Dean hated when you hunted with anyone else. He trusted you to be able to handle yourself but he trusted him and Sam more than any other hunter to have your back.

He understood needing to catch a breather and most of the time when you hunted outside of being with him it was with some of the female hunters you knew. He always found himself looking for you when you were gone and happy when you returned most unscathed.

He pushed the door leading into the garage and stopped when he realized you weren't only washing your own jeep but baby as well. You were dancing as you worked, singing low along with the music. You were wearing a pair of Halloween boxers and white tshirt that clearly showed the outline of the grey sports bra you had on. He didn't mean to stare but damn you were so damn beautiful and seeing you that relaxed only added to it.

----------

You hadn't even heard Dean walk in until you spotted him out of the corner of your eye and froze dead in your tracks. You held up the rag you'd been using to dry the impalas bumper. "Damn Dean I wanted to surprise you!" He grinned "Was the car washing the surprise or the show?" You shrugged with a laugh "Either or" he raised an eyebrow but failed to realize you'd grabbed the hose in the meantime.

You walked closer to him as you motioned towards baby "Ya like?" His attention was on the impala as he nodded "Yeah sweetheart. I mean you didn't have to but she looks damn good" you nodded with a grin "Good. Now one more thing" he turned to face you "What's that?" "You're a little dry!" You said as you pushed the sprayer on the hose squirting him down with it.

"Y/N!" He hollered and you squealed when he made a dive for you "Nope!" You had the advantage being barefoot on the wet floor so you took it and ran. You could hear him laughing as he ran after you even as you slid into the hallway.

----------

Dean chased after you, slipping slightly on the wet floor. You had the advantage and was laughing like crazy. You passed Sam outside the kitchen and barely got out "MOVE SAMMY"

Dean shot Sam a wink on the way by "The damn little gremlin sprayed me!" You laughed harder when you heard him. He didn't know if you were headed towards your room or the room they'd cleared for a training area when they needed to move their asses a bit.

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You weren't sure where you were headed. Dean was faster than you and the bunker was only so big. Not like he was actually mad but revenge would come. You made a split decision which was to let him catch you.

You felt his hands a moment before your back was up against the wall and he was staring down at you,his wet hair clinging to his forehead "Y/N. What do you have to say for yourself?" You grinned as you reached up to play with the wet strands "Well damn Dean I just wanted to be the first woman to make you wet. Ya know turn the tables a bit" his eyes widened at your words but his grip which was already barely there loosened more.

You leaned up and placed a quick kiss to his cheek "Bye" you slipped under his arm and made the dash to your room. The moment your door shut you could hear his laughter "Point for you darlin"

Sam stood at the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee the next morning when Dean came walking into the kitchen. "Why haven't you asked her out yet?"

Dean shook his head "We aren't like that" before he could grab a coffee mug Sam stepped in front of him "Like what? Absolutely crazy about each other? Man you look like a whipped puppy when she's not here. I've never seen her happier than when she's with you. Why not just try?"

"Try what?" You asked from the doorway, making both men jump. Sam looked up at you with a smile "Nothing important" you looked from one brother to the next then shrugged "In that case, I'm grabbing coffee and you two need to meet me in the library. I think I found a case"

They watched you walk out before Sam leaned closer to Dean "She likes you. You like her. You're both adults so be an adult and admit your crush"

Dean watched you dancing with Sam and couldn't help but smile. The line of butterfly stitches on your cheek was barely noticeable, Sam's shoulder had nearly been pulled out of socket and he himself would have one hell of a shiner but you'd all had worse and in your words it was "a reason to celebrate"

When the song ended Sam said something to you so you glanced up and curled one finger at him in a "come here" motion. He shook his head which resulted in you pushing your way across the bar to where he sat "Dean, come dance with me"

You held your hand out and Dean laughed "you gonna lead?" You shrugged "For you? I'll hand over some control" the way you'd said it, mixed with the look you gave him..were you flirting?

He took your hand "Promise you won't regret it" he said nodding to Sam who made a motion towards the door. Your motel was two parking lots down. Dean nodded then turned his eyes back to you.

-----------

Turns out, dancing was another thing on the list that Dean was damn good at. He held you in his arms as you spun around with the song. You smiled every time he pulled you closer.

For so long after you and Theo had split some of the things Theo had said stuck with you. Things like no one would ever love you because the real you was too chaotic and insane or that you were a fun time not a long time type of deal. You weren't sure why you'd ever been with him.

You'd been asked out a few times since then but you of course hadn't went. You were a little shy of opening yourself up like that again. You couldnt see yourself catching feelings any time soon..The only exception was the man who's arms you were in.

You'd always had a passing attraction to Dean but after being in such close quarters for so long and knowing each other as well as you now did? Easy to say you'd began to fall for him.

---------

When the song ended Dean pulled you against his chest. Your eyes tracked his movements. He wanted to kiss you, he wanted to take that chance but he had to be sure you knew he wasn't anything like your ex.

He needed you to know he didn't want a one night shot, he wanted to try this. He needed you to know that no matter what happened he'd always be a safe place to land. That he'd always have your back.

---------

You knew Dean was thinking heavy about something "Dean, you ok?" He nodded then sighed "You're the most amazing woman and you deserve so much better of a man than you've had in the past and...." you felt your heart flip at his words so you cut him off by pressing your lips against his.

He froze for half a second before his hands went to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.

Damn could that man kiss. You felt a flicker of heat roll through you at the feeling of his lips on yours. You'd had sex before that didn't feel anywhere near as good as kissing Dean.

When you pulled back he licked his lips slowly "So I guess the point got across?" You nodded "Now, wanna get out of here?" he hesitated before saying "As long as you take the lead" "You're handing over control?" You asked and he nodded with a smirk "Only for you"