#just wanna hold onto this for a long long time and never say goodbye

[tojisun]

not even lying but i couldn’t stop thinking about biker!simon ever since 😭

just imagine biker!simon at the bar with his friends, lounging, waiting for the time to run because after this little after-work drinks, he’s going to drive home to your place. his attention is split between his phone and the chatter of his friends, laughing in bursts at whatever embarrassing thing mactavish is recounting, before turning back to reading the message you sent.

> wearin ur shirt tonight <33

his lips curl in a smile and his heart flutters at how cute you truly are. he types out a response, licking the back of his teeth at the thought of coming home to see you in his shirt, when the chatter dies down in the group.

he catalogues the change, swiftly shutting his phone off before tipping his head up to assess what caused the shift in the mood, only for his eyes to land on a small group of women hovering by their table.

“uh, how can we help you lasses?” johnny, ever the gentleman, asks.

while one of them does respond to johnny, another slides into the empty space beside simon with a giggle.

“hey,” she trills, batting her lashes at him.

simon’s hand tightens around his bourbon, the quiet satisfaction that filled him up throughout the night dissipating. he nods in acknowledgment before turning back to his phone, seeing that there was no immediate danger for him to focus on.

ignoring his obvious lack of interest, she wraps her hand around his wrist and tugs hard enough that simon has to turn his attention back to her. he does so with a sigh.

“it’s so stuffy here,” she says, fanning herself, her eyes drawn onto the helmet he stupidly brought with him inside the bar. she presses close, rubbing her tits along his inked arm. “wanna take me out for a ride?”

simon snatches his arm from her hold, his face pinching in irate. “no, not interested.”

she pouts, cheeks flushing and simon wonders how much of it was because of the alcohol and how much of it was because of shame. he flicks his eyes up to the rest of the group, narrowing his eyes at the unabashed glee in johnny’s face at seeing simon be cornered by someone who can’t take a fucking clue, before shooting a betrayed glare at price and garrick who are choosing to ignore him.

the girl’s friends are now left sitting awkwardly, watching as their friend flounders for simon’s attention – something he’d never give, anyway.

“c’mon, big boy,” said friend croons, twirling her hair. “don’t wanna take a sweetheart for a drive?”

simon sighs, done for the night. “again, not interested," he replies. "'sides, i’ve got the sweetest darling waiting for me at home. i don’t want you, miss.”

and with that, he stands up, snatching his helmet from the table and nodding his goodbyes to his friends. he doesn’t stay long enough to hear her sputter or watch her storm off because simon’s already out the door and walking to the parking lot.

he wears his helmet and slides his gloves on, before fishing for his phone to finally send you that text that he had been wanting to send.

See you soon, sweetheart. <

pocketing his phone, simon finally hefts himself up onto his bike and kickstarts the engine, the machine purring underneath him. he adjusts his helmet, zips up his jacket, before caressing the embroidered letters on his gloves. he traces the initials of your name, feeling his heart fluttering, and brings his gloved knuckles to brush his lips against them.

snapping the visor down, simon revs up the engine and drives off, his thoughts full of nothing but you.

(ext02.) (ext.03) // mlist!

[mameillieureennemie]

could i have a fic where reader tries to avoid telepathic!vi in an attempt to hide their feelings for her pls?

telepathic!vi x reader

you don't want vi to read your mind–it could fuck things up.

You've been avoiding Vi for days now, slipping away before she can see you and running off before she even gets a chance to say hello.

It's sad; it's heartbreaking, really, because every time you leave, you manage to catch a glimpse of Vi's confusion. Which is much better than the following sadness you don't get to see but you, unfortunately, hear about.

"You can't keep on avoiding her," Ekko tells you one evening, both of you hidden away with beers and some wraps. "Every time you leave, she turns into an upset puppy dog and when I tell you it's the most heart-wenching thing I've ever seen—"

"Shut up," you groan around a mouthful of chicken wrap before you swallow it down. "It's not like I don't know, alright? I'm highly aware of how sad my avoidance is making Vi." You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "It's just...her telepathy doesn't make it easy to be around her."

Ekko raises a brow. "Her telepathy?" He says, surprised. "That's kind of odd, I just thought you never had anything to hide from her. You two are as thick as thieves, Vi being able to read your mind would sound like a dream come true."

You take a swig of beer, relishing in the slight bitter taste, before saying, "It would be a dream come true if..."

"If...?" Ekko pushes after you go silent for a long moment.

"If... I didn't have a giant crush on her." You reveal, cheeks warm as you avoid eye contact with Ekko.

Ekko, who stares at you before going, "Ooooh. Yeah, that's a problem."

"No shit," you say with a roll of your eyes. "It's so annoying because It'd be fine if my mind knew how to shut up when Vi's around, but it doesn't! Every time she's around, my brain goes dumb and all it thinks about is how hot Vi is and how I wanna hold her hand and kiss her stupid face—"

"Whoa!" Ekko interrupts, raising his hands with a laugh. "Too much information. I see where those words were going, and I don't like it."

"I know, I'm sorry," you say, laughing weakly. "It's just...I like her so much, Ekko. And I don't want to freak her out with my dumb brain. So I'm just going to avoid her until I can get a better hold of my thoughts."

Ekko nods. "Sounds like a good idea in theory but what about Vi?" He asks, smiling sadly. "She's miserable without you, y'know? And she's worried that she's done something wrong. Thinks that her powers have freaked you out."

You groan, hiding your face in your hands as your heart shatters at that.

"It's not her, it's never her," you say firmly. "It's me—"

"Ekko?"

That's Vi's voice.

"Ekko, are you here?"

Shit.

"I gotta go!" You whisper, knocking over your beer as you hurry to stand up. "Don't tell her I was here!"

"Like she couldn't just read my mind but sure," Ekko says, deadpan, and you roll your eyes before waving goodbye, making your escape.

"Were they just here?" You hear Vi asks Ekko the moment you descend onto a rooftop, and break into a run.

Inwardly, you curse.

Why does this all have to be so complicated?

[drvscarlett]

The Tortured Drivers' Department

— combining another one of my favorites. I'll be taking notes and writing fics about which TTPD song do I associate with the drivers ( + I will be including the retired ones). This is the main list and I'll be linking them when I finished writing them. Let me know if you wanna be tagged

Also give TTPD a listen. Its so beautiful and a masterpiece

Fortnight

— i love you, its ruining my life (Lewis Hamilton x Mercedes!reader)

The Tortured Poets Department 

— At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on. And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding (Pierre Gasly x ex!reader)

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 

— 'Cause he took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart left all these broken parts (Lando Norris x reader)

Down Bad

— Fuck it if I can't have him (Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader)

So Long, London

— You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? (George Russell x secret girlfriend! reader)

But Daddy I Love Him

— "I'm having his baby" No, I'm not, but you should see your faces (Alex Albon x Horner!reader)

Fresh Out the Slammer

— Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you (Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader)

Florida!!! (feat. Florence + the Machine) 

—I need to forget, so take me to Florida (Logan Sargeant x heiress!reader)

Guilty as Sin?

—What if he's written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind? (Oscar Piastri x bestfriend!reader)

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me?

— I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean (Nico Rosberg x Lewis Hamilton)

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

— they shake their heads, saying, "God help her" when I tell 'em he's my man (Daniel Ricciardo x longtime girlfriend!reader)

loml

— Oh, what a valiant roar. What a bland goodbye. The coward claimed he was a lion (Max Verstappen x childhood sweetheart!reader)

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart 

— Lights, camera, bitch, smile (Zhou Guanyu x model!reader)

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

— And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive (Yuki Tsunoda x Actress!reader)

The Alchemy

—'Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me (Kimi Räikkönen x assistant!reader)

Clara Bow

— This town is fake, but you're the real thing (Sebastian Vettel x Ferrari heir!reader)

The Black Dog

— I am someone who, until recent events you shared your secrets with (Mick Schumacher x driver!reader

imgonnagetyouback

— I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into the ditch (Fernando Alonso x wife!reader)

The Albatross

— She's the albatross, she is here to destroy you (Jenson Button x revenger!reader)

Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus

—So if I sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet. Will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon? (Carlos Sainz x Vasseur!reader)

How Did It End?

— The deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling (Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri)

So High School

—You knew what you wanted, and, boy, you got her (Charles Leclerc x reader ft Max Verstappen x childhood friend!reader)

I Hate It Here

—I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind (Kimi Räikkönen x interviewer! reader)

thanK you aIMee

— And then she wrote headlines in the local paper laughing at each baby step I'd take (Mark Webber x reader)

I Look in People’s Windows

—What if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time (Sebastian Vettel x reader)

The Prophecy

—Don't want money, just someone who wants my company (Pierre Gasly x politician's daughter!reader)

Cassandra

—So they killed Cassandra first cause she feared the worst (Lewis Hamilton x wife!reader)

Peter

— Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold onto the days when you were mine (Lando Norris x reader)

The Bolter

— "Oh, we must stop meeting like this" (Max Verstappen x hollywood starlet!reader)

Robin

— You have no room in your dreams for regrets (Oscar Piastri x girlfriend!reader)

The Manuscript

—One last souvenir from my trip to your shores. Now and then I re-read the manuscript. But the story isn't mine anymore (Carlos Sainz x McLaren employee!reader)

[na0koz]

what eoulf u think of toxic jinx being jealous :3 IF YOU 3ANNA DO WRITE OF COURSE!!!!!@ (no pressure gang)

ofc i wanna write my glorious queen jinx. but i don’t rly like this i’m sorry i hope u do :(

toxic!jinx masterlist

jinx definitely doesn’t know what to do with herself when she gets jealous. it’s a foreign feeling to her, and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to act or if you even meant to make her feel like that. if she’s supposed to be jealous.

she knows she’s obsessive. it’s all she’s ever been, that’s what love is to her. she desperately does not want to scare you and she cannot lose you.

jinx will deal with the other person in her own time, she knows what to do on that front. but she is unsure how to act towards you. is she supposed to say something? act like it didn’t happen? yell at you? jinx doesn’t know.

-

the two of you had arranged to meet after your last class of the day, and of course jinx was early to the gates of your campus. just to be safe. plus, she was too excited to see her baby! she just had to come early.

she’s been watching through the gate for about 10 minutes now, and finally caught a glimpse of you coming out of your building. but, who is that you’re with?? jinx can’t properly see their face but she will soon enough, she can see you coming closer as you chat to whoever that rat who you’re with is.

the first thing jinx does when you reach her, your friend still by your side, is take note of their name. she sees it hanging around their neck printed onto their student ID and commits it to memory. she’ll deal with them later, in her own way. for now she’ll stay silent, opting to grip your hands in hers, making sure your friend sees you automatically interlace your fingers with hers. her first response to this strange jealousy she’s feeling is to prove you belong to her. to prove that you want to belong to her.

once your friend notices the hold jinx has on you - she’s snaked her other arm around yours, leaning her head towards yours now - they awkwardly say goodbye and shuffle off. jinx lets out a dramatic sigh, groaning and bending over before she starts to complain. “who the heck was that?!”

“just my friend from class,” you respond calmly. you know she’s obsessive. you like it in all honesty, but you don’t like the idea of making her mad.

“hm. well i didn’t like the look of ‘em.” jinx says curtly as she starts to pull you in the direction of your apartment, harsh pout on her lips. you scoff at her remark (and the childish tone in her voice) and keep walking.

once you arrive home, jinx literally does not take her hands off you; it was as if she still had to prove herself, even in the secrecy of your home. holding your hand or the back of your jacket as you complete a couple of chores before getting comfortable on the couch, finally climbing over you to lay her head on your stomach and grip your waist.

the pair of you stayed quiet for a bit, your hand rested on jinx’s head as you swipe your fingers over her blue hair every now and then. it’s pulled into her typical braids that she always wears, the ones you love.

“don’t think you should talk to that friend of yours anymore.” she says out of the blue. she doesn’t move to look at you and keeps staring down at your lap from her spot on your tummy.

when you ask why, she simply says “don’t think they’d be the type to stick around for the long run, that’s all. don’t want you to waste your time.”

she was going to make sure that they wouldn’t be there for the long run if it was the last thing she does. keep in mind though, jinx wasn’t going to do anything drastic like kill them or whatever. just scare them enough to keep them away from you. she’ll do what she can, and you will never find out that it was all her when that ‘friend’ of yours avoids you like the plague a couple of weeks later.

you call jinx, almost on the verge of tears as you explain to her how that idiot you thought was your friend acts like you don’t exist. jinx prays to god you can’t hear the grin on her face in her voice. “aw what a dick. poor baby, why don’t i come over and make you feel better?”

[the-original-skipps]

|| Relationship Headcanons #2 || Poly!Sakura x Reader x Poly!Suo || Wind Breaker ||

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| 0:10

PLAY!

due to popular demand folks we are back again for part 2 I can literally go on and on about them HELP

PART 1

: fluff. polyamorous relationship. established relationship

❥ Let’s start this off with how they all got together in the first place. I reckon it’s something like where you and Suo were already together. Ever since Sakura joined the group he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You’re so kind and beautiful. Just brushing past you has his heart racing. However, when he found out you were with Suo he was definitely down in the dumps but that didn’t stop him from continuing to like you-no matter how much he tries to snuff it out.

❥ Suo from the first moment could tell that Sakura likes you. It’s natural, how could anyone not like someone like you? He didn’t say anything about it wanting to observe how it’ll turn out. Until he notices your eyes now linger a little longer on Sakura. He understands your feelings because he feels it too. So Suo decides to pull all three of you for a discussion, long story short you’re all happily together now.

❥ Since you’re all together, you all call each other by your first names. Sakura had a difficult time as he already has a hard time just calling you and Suo by your last names. Suo likes to tease as Sakura gets beet red trying to say your first name. Sakura is really not used to anyone calling him by his first name so every time you and Suo say his name, he freezes in shock.

❥ Sakura is inexperienced in a lot of things it’s up to you and Suo to show him the wonders of the world. Dates happen quite often, bringing Sakura to places he’s never been to before such as the aquarium or the amusement park.

❥ It’s so adorable how Sakura’s eyes light up as he sees all the fishes, you can’t help but coo at him. Pulling him along to look at the different tanks, all the meanwhile Sakura is flushed red. Suo trails behind you both with a gentle smile on his face, secretly snapping pictures of you two. Who knows maybe he’ll capture an ugly picture of Sakura to use as blackmail.

Suo: Oh look, Haruka-kun! That penguin looks like you!

Sakura: YOU WANNA TAKE THIS OUTSIDー!

❥ Speaking of amusement park dates, Sakura feels his soul his leaving his body every time he rides another scary looking attraction. He swears he’s fine but you and Suo both know otherwise. Suo on the other hand, is as cool as a cucumber with a smile on his face as you and Sakura grip onto him screaming your lungs out.

❥ You begged Sakura and Suo to wear the ear head bands with you. Sakura put up quite the struggle saying it looks lame but eventually your puppy dog eyes won him over. Of course you all have matching ears-Suo happily paid for them because he’s a rich boy like that who likes to spoil. The picture you all took in front of the castle is your phone’s wallpaper.

❥ Suo likes to invite both you and Sakura over for lunch or dinner. Suo is alone most of the time so it’s nice to have some company over at his house. His cooking is magnificent, he has you and Sakura asking for seconds. The hard part is forcing him to eat as well. You were almost begging on your knees for Suo to take at least one bite.

❥ Another hobby you all like to do together is play video games. A fight almost broke out because of how many times Suo beat Sakura at a game. Suo swears he’s going easy on Sakura which pisses him off a lot more. Despite the many times he loses he always asks for a rematch. You have to hold Sakura down before he tackles Suo.

❥ You always like to give these boys hello and goodbye hugs despite seeing each other almost everyday. Suo gladly accepts your hugs, hugging you back-burying his face in your hair. While Sakura malfunctions like a robot whenever you wrap your arms around him-then again just the slightest touch from you has him sweating.

❥ You once tried not giving them goodbye hugs and it did not go well. Suo was immediately sulking, complaining how you don’t love him anymore he’s just wants to tease you. Sakura will give you the silent treatment, because he’s too embarrassed to voice out his thoughts. He really likes your hugs no matter how much he complains about it. Please give these poor boys  their huggy wuggies. 

lemme know if part 3 is needed hehe

[runnning-outof-time]

Can I request John and "Did you even miss me?" Congrats on 3.5k!

Thanks for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to write! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Wasn’t Expecting You

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 707

Summary: After being away for weeks, John decides to surprise his wife. She becomes so surprised by him that her reaction isn’t what he was expecting.

“You really don’t know how much longer they’ll be away for?” (Y/N) asked Ada as they both took their seats in the front room of (Y/N)’s home.

“I don’t,” Ada answered with a slight frown and a shake of her head. “Tommy never gives an exact timeline, and Arthur and John just follow along with it.”

“That explains why he won’t say anything when he calls me,” (Y/N) sighed, looking down at her lap.

“They’ll be home soon enough,” Ada assured her, her lips pursed in a tight smile, “and then they’ll become our problems again.”

(Y/N) giggled at the second half of her sister-in-law’s statement. She had to agree - things were much calmer when the boys were out of town.

“So…how have things been around here lately?” Ada asked once they were finished laughing.

“They’ve been grand. This place is finally starting to feel like a home,” (Y/N) answered, her smile wide as she looked around the room.

“Everything looks lovely,” Ada answered, her eyes focused on something behind (Y/N). The other woman just figured she was looking at some of the decorations behind her. She saw her smile widen just as someone else spoke out.

“I’ve brought the booze!” a third voice entered the conversation. Ada’s expression switched on a dime and she rolled her eyes at the statement.

(Y/N) didn’t get time to question it because someone had swooped in beside her to place a set of glasses down on the coffee table. She couldn’t make out much, just that the person was wearing a brown suit. Ada was also looking at her expectantly now. “I don’t think we needed booze…?” she hesitantly questioned, her brows furrowed.

Ada had to hold back her laughter. “Have you not noticed who that is?” she asked seconds later.

“Huh?” (Y/N) was confused now. Ada nodded her head at the person. So she turned to look up at him. “Oh…John?”

“Yeah, it’s me, love,” he answered, his usual cheshire cat-like grin present. “Not the welcome home I was expectin’ though…did you even miss me?”

Something clicked in (Y/N)’s mind as he was speaking. She jumped up from the couch as quickly as she could and threw her arms around his frame. “Of course I missed you! We were just talking about you coming home,” she said to him as she held onto his body tightly. A wide smile was present on her face when she pulled away. “I just…I looked quick and thought you were Finn or something,” she sheepishly explained her previous lack of excitement.

Her statement made John snort. “Finn? Now that’s a fuckin’ insult!” he exclaimed, his still present grin showing that he was teasing her.

“Oh shut up, John,” she jokingly huffed as she lightly smacked his shoulder. He sent her a tight lipped grin, one that she couldn’t hold up a straight face to. Her grin grew as she buried her face into his chest.

“No, darling, I wanna see that beautiful smile of yours,” he said, coaxing her to lift her head once more, “been too long since I’ve seen it.”

“Been too long since you’ve kissed me as well…” she trailed off, a knowing look in her eyes.

“You make a good point,” he agreed with her, tucking his fingers under her chin so that he could guide her lips to his. They shared a sweet kiss before a voice broke them apart.

“That’ll be my cue to go,” Ada announced, standing from her chair so that she could grab her things.

“Thanks for coming over, Ada,” (Y/N) smiled at the woman as she made her way to the door. The two ladies said their goodbyes before John got the attention of his wife again.

“You really thought I was Finn?” he asked her, his eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t think you’d be home so soon,” she defended herself.

“Yeah, but…Finn?” he emphasized his little brother’s name as mock-disgust filled his time.

“Oh shut up and kiss me again, will you?” she dismissed his question, taking hold of his cheeks then so that she could bring his lips to hers once more.

*tagging in reblog so that hopefully the notification gets sent

MASTERLIST

[lcriedlastnight]

Friends to lovers with Oscar. Maybe Oscar realized his feelings for y/n very recently and he’s still trying to accept the fact that he loves her. And one time at a party he gets extremely jealous like he has never felt before and somehow he ends up telling her "Kiss me like this is one of those stupid movies you love so much."

omg i love when men pine! tysm for requesting anon!

tw: fem!reader, swears, lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.1k

how was this fair? oscar has to sit here and watch you with him! now, you were not really doing anything with him but it was annoying oscar the way that stupid guy, that he did not even bother learning the name of at the beginning of the party, was sitting so close to you that if he got any closer then he would be sitting on your lap! the more he thought about it the more it pissed him off.

you and oscar were not dating or anything, in fact the driver had just discovered his feelings for you a few weeks ago. it felt extremely unnecessary for him to find out this revelation then only a few weeks later watch some guy throw himself onto you, without any complaints from you. he was not sure if you just could not tell that he was trying so hard to get you to go upstairs with him or if you knew and were just playing hard to get. the brunette was praying it was the former.

this horrible jealous feeling that felt like it was suffocating oscar made him not only want to be with you constantly but also made him feel extremely guilty for thinking so. being your friend for almost two years he knew all too well how much you longed for a relationship, not even just a relationship but one like in those rom-coms you forced oscar to watch on those movie nights where you fell asleep halfway through, head slumped on his shoulder.

while oscar continues to glare daggers into the man sitting beside you he hears a mutual friend approach him. "you alright, mate?" his friend asks, sensing the jealous gaze oscar has stuck on you and your new friend.

oscar hums, eyes never tearing away from you as he watches you laugh at something he says. oscar decides that he has barely seen you tonight and he needs you close to him before he does something he knows he would regret come the morning, or even as he went to bed that night.

oscar felt as if he could hear your laugh ringing in his ears even when you were quiet. that is when he gets up off his couch and trails over to you, your name falling off his lips lightly as he looks at you with a desperate look of longing, he prays you understand.

"hi osc, forgot you were even here, were you hiding?". it is a joke. it is so clearly a joke with the way you laugh through the words and the teasing tone that laces your sweet voice. oscar is not too sure if you were serious with your words though. had you really forgotten that he was at the party? the thought of you forgetting about him sent the australian into a frenzy, mind scrambling for an excuse to get you alone and away from this stupid man who was making you forget that he even existed.

"yeah, i've been here. wanna come grab a drink with me?" oscar asks but in his mind it feels much more like a beg. in his mind it feels like oscar is down on his knees, hands pressed together as he begs for a second of your attention. the sad part is he knew that if that was what he had to do he would do it here, drop down on his knees in front of everyone and beg for you to pay him even a second of attention.

"sure," you smile up at oscar before turning around to face your friend again. "i'll see you later, it was great to chat with you again, it's been forever!" you say your goodbyes and the man beside you does the same. it pleases oscar to no end as he knows for a fact that you will not be seeing him for the rest of the night and it seemed like you knew that too.

oscar is quick to throw a hand out in your direction to help you up. your touching sending bolts of lightening through his nerves. he ignores it in favour of holding your hand all the way through to the kitchen. it had felt like years since oscar had been to a house party, it made him feel older than he was.

"you okay? you're kinda quiet." you ask as you pour your drink and mixer of choice into one of those red cups, just like in those films you adore, oscar notices.

"yeah, m'okay. just missed you." oscar mumbles, not really one for admitting that kind of thing but it felt weird to hide it from you.

"how's your boyfriend?" oscar could not keep him mouth shut as the questions slips out his mouth.

"my boyfriend?" you laugh "you mean liam?" the smile is not nearly enough to distract him from the guy that had made you laugh like that, like he was not just sitting across from you.

"is that his name?" oscar tries to act uninterested but it is very clear he is seeing as he was the one who asked you about him.

you smile at him. "yeah that's his name. he's good, not my boyfriend though." you having, what anyone who was not deeply in love with you, would call a knowing smile on your face as you take a sip of your drink.

"he sure likes to act like it." oscar huffs, blatantly ignoring everything else you had said except the boyfriend part. it almost makes you laugh and you try your hardest to not burst out laughing in his poor face.

"he's married, so i doubt it oscar." you inform him. your words shock him, he looks way too young to be married and he tells you so, earning a half laugh half scoff from you.

"they're highschool sweethearts and have been married for a year already, i didn't know they were married until today though." you explain to oscar who stares at you blankly.

you catch his eyes, confused at his expression. "what?" you ask.

"kiss me like one of those stupid movies you love so much." oscar mumbles before taking it in his own hands and pulling you close to him for your lips to meet briefly. he pulls away, a little panicked at what he had just done. you assure him with a smile as you pull him back in.

if you were being completely honest, it was a sloppy makeout session in someone's kitchen, both of you a little tipsy and a lot in love. it was not one of your proudest moments, oscar's either, but it was the one thing you would never take back. you thought it to be one of the best things to ever happen to you, as it finally bagged you oscar.

[luveline]

What about if in Eddie and Roan, Eddie and Reader' are both occupied with wedding stuff or smth else and they left Roan with either Wayne or Steve and Robin, and it's just fluffy fluff about them being the best uncles/grandpa ever?

Roan wraps her arms around his neck. “Why can’t I come?” 

Her dad has pretty much always felt like an extension of her. He’s dad. So when she doesn’t get to go places with him that aren't work or school, it doesn’t make sense. She’d care less if Uncle Wayne wasn’t too tired for a slumber party, because her Uncle Wayne is the best uncle ever. 

“Baby,” Eddie says, in that soft sweet voice that means she’s being let down easy, “you can’t come because it’s a lot to do in one day, okay?” He encourages her face back. He’s on his knees to be her height, but he’s still taller. “I know you want to come, but it won’t be any fun at all. We have to go argue with people all day. Y/N’s gonna put on her scary mommy pants and I’m gonna have to back her up because she’s my girl.” 

Roan just looks at him. Eddie grins. 

“Okay, but will you bring me something?” she asks in a whisper. 

You laugh where you’re standing in the doorway behind him. 

“What do you want?” he asks. 

She leans in to whisper in his ear. When she pulls away, he’s squaring his expression into something quite fierce. She’s confident she’ll have what she asks for as soon as he’s home. 

You and Eddie kiss her goodbye, hands quick to intertwine as you walk down the driveway, though you take your hand back to wave at her with both hands when you realise she’s waiting on the porch for you to go. 

Steve holds her shoulder. “Should we go back inside?” 

Roan tips her head back. “Steve…” 

“What, babe?” 

“Can we get ice cream?” 

He holds her gaze. “Maybe. Depends.” 

“On what?” 

“We have dinner first, and you have to eat two vegetables. Because last time your dad said I’m terrible at looking after you.” 

“You’re not terrible,” Roan says, shaking her head vehemently. 

Roan offers him her arms and he picks her up. When she was a baby Steve and Robin used to call her Princess Ro on account of her never being put down, but that was usually because she’d been traded from arm to arm rather than her being demanding. She was demanding, of course, she was a baby. 

“Thank you, Roan. I know I’m not terrible, your dad just loves giving me a hard time.” 

“He does that to me too.” 

“He does not,” Steve chastises, “your dad is a great dad. Just don’t tell him I said that.” 

“Me and dad don’t have secrets,” she says. 

“I know, that’s why he’s a good dad.” Steve sighs forlornly. “Ew. Let’s be less sincere from now on. What movie do you wanna watch?” 

“You have The Little Mermaid?” 

Obviously Steve has The Little Mermaid. He plops Roan down on the couch and she balls herself up tightly. Steve thinks she might be a bit grouchy today, but it’s hard to say yet. He tries to nip it in the bud before it can start, wrapping her in the blanket she likes with the soft ends and cutting her a boat load of apples for peanut butter. “Thanks, Uncle Steve,” she says, stretching her legs out over his thigh. Steve squeezes one of her feet until she grumbles and pulls it away. “I forgot you do that.” 

Steve laughs loudly. “Do what, babe?” 

“You’re like dad. You aga-vate.” 

“I do, huh?” he asks, patting her leg. “Sorry. Just teasing.” 

“Mom says teasing is okay if it doesn’t hurt your feelings.” 

“Did I hurt your feelings?” 

“You hurt my foot.” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, laughing, because he knows it didn’t hurt too much. 

“It’s okay. I don’t want feet, I want a fish tail.” 

“You do not,” Steve says, squeezing under her knee. She grumbles more and kicks at him, a few of her apple slices sliding off of her plate and onto the blanket. She doesn’t notice. 

Robin lets herself in not long after. She’s in sweatpants with her hair up, arms laden with soda and bags of chips. “Hey, Ro,” she says. Even when Roan was a baby, Robin has talked to her like she’s an adult. “You look comfortable. Did you miss me?” 

Roan seems to have missed Robin lots —Robin sits down and within twenty minutes has Roan snuggled under her arm, another twenty and she’s giggling sleepily at the murderous chef trying to cook the Little Mermaid’s crab friend. 

Steve and Robin are best friends, and great watchers, though it’s much easier to look after a kid when you’re allowed to spoil them. They feed Roan chips and soda (though they aren’t animals, the soda is limited to one small cup, and the chips are before a dinner that includes three different vegetables), and they let her jump on the couch and climb up on the kitchen counter to play with the soap dispenser. 

Pick up time comes and passes. Roan sits kicking her feet on the kitchen table, her coat unzippered and her wellies hitting the chair. “Are they late?” she asks. 

Steve offers her a slice of orange. “Yeah, babe, it looks like it.” 

“Are they gonna never come back?” 

“Of course they’re coming back,” Robin says, “your dad has no personality outside of you. He needs you to be happy.” 

Roan smiles to herself. “Yes,” she agrees, taking a bite of her orange. 

Steve kneels in front of her and pulls the two sides of her jacket together. “Your teeth are orange.” 

Roan accidentally drops the orange rind out of her teeth. It rolls down her legs and hits him in the shirt, leaving a greeny tinged stain on his blue polo. “Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay,” he says, zipping her coat to the collar and brushing her hair back away from her sticky cheeks gently, “I’ll just charge your dad extra.” 

“You’re the best, Uncle Steve,” Roan decides. 

He strokes her hair behind her ears. “You are the best, Roan. My favourite Munson ever.” 

Her eyes light with joy. “Really?” 

“Really truly.” 

“That’s a bit controversial,” Robin says, clipping Roan’s backpack shut to house what was left of her chips. 

“I don’t like Eddie and Wayne doesn’t tell me good job when I wash my hands.” Steve shrugs. “No competition.” 

The phone rings. When Robin picks up, she says that it’s Eddie, and Eddie needs to talk to Steve, who, after a short conversation, passes the phone to Roan. 

“Dad?”

“Hey, baby! Sorry we’re not there, we went to the wrong place for mom’s hair stuff and it was a disaster, we won’t be home for another hour, I’m sorry. Are you really mad?” 

“I'm not really mad.” 

“I’m bringing you a present, remember? So can you keep being a good girl for Uncle Steve? No shouting?” 

Roan decides this is alright. Eddie tells her he loves her about six times and Roan hands the phone back up because she can’t reach the receiver, letting Steve hang up. She frowns at the floor, her head hanging, dark hair curling in front of her eyes.

“How about we make use of your shoes and coat and go get that ice cream I promised?” he suggests. “Anything you want. You did eat all your vegetables.” 

Robin rolls her eyes. Roan slouches sadly into his legs, the beginnings of a smile on her lips when she looks up at him and asks, “Hot fudge?” 

“As much hot fudge as you want,” he promises. 

[citruswriter]

ok ok hear me out.. rottmnt boys x an autistic reader who is sensitive to / scared of loud sounds so when the 4th of July comes around the reader pretty much just starts tripping balls and on the verge of a meltdown? This happens to me often so it would mean a lot to me

ROTTMNT Boys x ND Reader during 4th of July

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Meltdown, lots of crying, nonverbalness with Raph and Donnie, fluff and comfort, neurodivergent/autistic Reader, Reader wears a bra in Donnie's section (ur wearing the fckn bra Joey).

A/N: Ok no bc last year the fireworks scared me so badly and I cried and I didn't know why bc fireworks never scared me before but I had a total meltdown and had to hide in the car while my husband gave me his noise cancelling headphones. 😭😭😭 W Husband.

It had been a long day for you. It was the 4th of July and you and your family had decided to have a potluck party. Of course you went, bringing food of your own and eating as you conversed with aunts, uncles, cousins, and the likes. After awhile the sun began to set and you decided it was time to get home before it got completely dark. Saying your goodbyes, you decided to call your favorite turtle.

"Yeah the potluck was good. The family really wants to meet you, you know?. I can only keep my boyfriend elusive for so long". You teased with a giggle. "Oh come on. You know it's not as simple as that. I'd love to meet your parents though". His voice came back. You went to reply, but a loud crack was heard in the sky, causing you to shriek. "Baby? Baby you ok?" His voice came, but it sounded far off. Your head began to spin and your chest felt tight, tears welling up in your eyes.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I forgot about the fucking fireworks was all you thought as you stumbled back, stumbling into a nearby wall, hand clutching your phone into a death grip. "Stay right there! I'm coming to get you!"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Raphael x Reader 🧡

It wasn't long before you felt fingers wrap around your upper arms. You jerked away, sobbing and whipping your head around. "Shhhhh. It's just me, strawberry". A soothing voice came. "I'm going to pick you up ok?" All you could do was nod as Raph picked you up, pressing one ear to his chest as he covered the other with his hand. He sprang from rooftop to rooftop before finding his way to the lair.

Everything was so loud but as the two of you shimmied into the sewers, everything became muffled. "Do you wanna walk on your own?" He asked gently and you shook your head, clutching onto him for dear life. Raph nodded, carrying you down the sewer lines before reaching the lair. "I'm gonna take you to the room, ok?" He said gently, taking you to his bedroom and laying you down on his bed. "Do you need anything?" He asked and you chewed your lip in thought. He seemed to pick up on the fact that you were nonverbal.

"Do you want something to eat?" You shook your head no. "What about something to drink?" You thought before nodding. "Water?" No. "Juice?" Yes. He nodded and held out his hands. "Tap my left hand for apple juice, right hand for orange juice". He said and you thought for a moment before tapping one of his hands. He nodded and left for a moment. You pulled yourself up in a half sat up position, taking a few deep breaths to clear your still ringing head.

Your head jerked towards the door as Raph stepped back in, a glass full of juice. He smiled softly, sitting on the bed next to you and handing the glass to you. Shaky hands reached out to glass, grasping it firmly before bringing it up to your mouth to chug as much as you needed. A smack of your lips and a sigh left you before you handed the glass to him. "Thanks, Raphie." You croaked out with a soft smile.

"Anything for you." He said softly, crawling into bed with you to hold you close. "Wanna spend the night here? Pretty sure you have a few sets of jammies over here." He asked gently and you smiled up at him, hand reaching to gently cradle his jaw. "I'd love that. Thank you." You muttered before giving him a kiss.

"Anything for you, my love".

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Leonardo x Reader 🧡

It seemed like only moments before a hand grabbed yours. You whipped around to see your boyfriend, tears spilling over your cheeks as he grabbed his sword to portal. He pulled you through and suddenly... everything was quiet. You gasped a breath before sobbing. "It's ok. It's ok. I've got you." Leo's soft voice came as he wrapped his arms around you. You broke down sobbing, your ears still ringing from the fireworks.

Hands gently tugged you to the bed. "Wait here." He said before springing out. You whined as he left, clutching your head, but he returned only moments later. He handed a glass of water to you and you sucked it down within seconds. "Here." His gentle voice came as he crouched down, hands reaching to slowly take off your shoes. "Movie night sound good?" He asked, looking up to you with a soft smile and you nodded.

Leo turned on his TV, letting you pick the movie before taking the blanket he had snagged and spreading it over the bed. You seemed to visibly relax as you felt the pressure of the weighted blanket press into you. "Sometimes Donnie gets overstimulated and uses a weighted blanket to calm down, so I asked him if I could borrow it for you". He said with a proud grin and you smiled up at him, hands reaching for him to drag him into bed with you.

"My hero." You said softly, voice barely above a whisper. Leo's eyes seemed to light up. Maybe he wasn't the most experienced with relationships, but he always enjoyed making you happy and meeting your needs. "I love you, mi amor". He muttered, lips pressing a kiss to your temple. You hummed back and reached your hands up to cup his cheeks, angling him so you could give him a sweet kiss.

"I love you too, Leonardo".

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Donatello x Reader 🧡

Donnie found you within seconds. His heart almost broke as he saw you shaking and sobbing. Hands slipped a device over your ears and you looked up as the world became muffled. Noise cancelling headphones. "I've got you". He signed. It took you a moment to decipher it, you weren't as good at sign as he was. But eventually you nodded and he approached you, hands hovering over your body, silently asking if it was ok to touch you. You nodded and leaned forward towards him, legs shaky. Donnie scooped you up, holding you close as he used his tech to quickly bring the both of you to the lair.

Once you made it inside, he made it clear to his brothers that he would be unavailable for the night. One glance at your trembling body and tear stained face and they immediately understood. He brought you inside the lab, laying you on his bed before taking the headphones off. "You better now?" He asked softly, hand reaching up to caress your face. You took a deep breath and nodded. "Can you talk?" He asked and you shook your head, tapping your throat. Donnie just nodded in understanding. "Can I get you anything?"

You tilted your head to the side, trying to remember the signs he had taught you. "Tea. Heavy blanket." Was all you signed before your boyfriend kissed your forehead and got to work. You leaned up against the wall, breathing deeply as you tried to calm your nerves. "Aaaaaand here you go." He said with a soft smile, handing you a cup of tea before spreading the weighted blanket over you. "If you need me, I'll be at my desk working, ok?" He said and you nodded, lifting your head for a kiss. Donnie just chuckled, bending down kiss your lips before leaving you to your own devices. You scrolled on your phone as you drank your tea, slowly relaxing more and more.

Eventually you felt sleepy, yawning and stretching your arms. The motion caught Donnie's eye and he smiled over at you lovingly before pulling himself away from his work. "Is it bedtime?" He asked and you nodded, taking off your jeans so you could lay down comfortably. "Want one of my hoodies?" He asked and you gazed up at him, blinking slowly before nodding. He went to snag a comfy sweater, coming back to see you taking off your shirt and struggling with your bra. "Let me, dove". He murmured, snapping your bra off and kissing your shoulder as he helped you slide it off before handing you the hoodie to shimmy into.

You smiled contently before laying down. Donnie took off his gear before laying down with you. "You know, I think I'm awfully tired myself." He said, snuggling into you and you looked up at him with a giggle, grabbing his face gently to pepper his face with kisses. Donnie couldn't help but let out a few chirps, nuzzling into your hands.

"You're too sweet to me, Donnie". You murmured, snuggling into him. Donnie just smiled softly, gently grasping your jaw so he could give you a bunch of kisses on your lips and cheeks. You giggled sleepily. "Mkay stawp. It bedtime". You said, speech slurred with how tired you were. Donnie smiled and held you close, hand tangled in your hair. As he watched you sleep, he couldn't help but stare at you lovingly.

"What did I do to deserve you?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Michaelangelo x Reader 🧡

You were clutching your chest, the fireworks ringing in your head. Two hands gently grasped your shoulders and you jerked your head up, blurry vision focusing enough to see your boyfriend. You sobbed and stumbled into his arms. Clutching onto him as he opened a portal and pulled you through and into his bedroom. You collapsed to your knees, hugging yourself and rocking softly in an attempt to calm yourself. Mikey crouched down in front of you, face worried. "Hey. Hey it's ok. C-Can I touch you?" He asked gently, tone unsure.

You took a deep breath and nodded. Mikey opened his arms and tugged you into his embrace. He whispered sweet things into your ear, one hand in your hair and the other half way up your shirt as he rubbed circles on your bare side. You clutched him close, doing your best to take deep breaths and ground yourself in reality. Eventually your breathing evened out and you nuzzled into his neck. "You a bit better, sunshine?" He asked softly, nuzzling you back as you nodded. "I could really go for a shower..." You sighed out. "You wanna take one alone or are you good if I join you?" He asked softly and you hummed in thought before lifting your head. "I'd like to take one with you if that's ok".

Mikey just chirped and excitedly nodded. "Of course, sunshine." He said before rushing off to the bathroom to start a shower. You chuckled softly, digging through his dresser to get a pair of the jammies he had gotten you forever ago. "It's ready!" Came his voice. You undressed and got into the shower with him.

The two of you took your time. Him washing your hair, you scrubbing his shell, him messaging your body with the body soap, you attacking his cute face with kisses. The two of you just spent time to decompress, you especially after the meltdown you had. "Feeling better?" Mikey asked once more and you smiled softly, hugging him and resting your head on his plastron. "Much. Thank you so much". You replied.

Mikey kissed your forehead and grinned. "You wanna get some pizza and play video games after this?" He asked, hopeful that you weren't too exhausted to pass up gaming. You looked up at him mischievously and giggled. "You already know it. I'm gonna kick your ass". Mikey laughed and squeezed your sides. "Oh you're so on".

You and Mikey spent the rest of the night eating pizza and playing video games, loudly talking shit to one another and winning rounds against each other until the two of you were so tired and ready to go to bed.

"I love you so much". He churred out, fingers tracing the features of your face. You hummed and nuzzled into his wrist. "I love you too, darling." You tilted your head to place a soft kiss to his mouth. His hand slid up to your face, gently deepening the kiss before pulling away and snuggling into you.

"My beautiful angel".

Haiiiiiii. Hope ya'll enjoyed dis. Fanks and byeeeeeee.

[ghostingssdeadlinee]

SFW ALPHABET - SAM WINCHESTER

Warnings: cursing, made some nsft jokes.

AN: he’s so girlfriend <3333

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s not very big on PDA, like hand holding and small kisses anywhere is great. But if you wanna make out just tug on his arm, go to a reserved era, and start kissing, could never say no too that.

In private tho, very much on quality time and physical touch, like sit on his lap while he’s researching and your read a book, or let him lay on your lap while he researches and you play with his hair, he’ll die.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Very caring, if you like something special he definitely looks it up so you two can talk about it.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Love it, mostly for sleeping. (Keeps the nightmares away)

I mean man’s massive so of course he’s going to be big spoon. But him laying on your chest/in the crevice of your neck, you talking about something you like or just your day, and you (again) playing with his hair. Melts.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Oh god, of course he wants to settle. Can’t because he constantly has to fight god and Lucifer and just every evil thing ever. But he’d want to more then anything.

Can’t really cook, I mean he knows some of the basics. He had to make food for him and dean once in a while.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

No :3 (didn’t feel like writing this sorrrryyy :333)

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

With everything happening, with the apocalypse, it kind of slipped his mind. But once he remember? Oh hell yeah.

Probably like 2-4 years into the relationship.

(Wears the ring on a necklace around his neck)

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Don’t get me wrong he’s a big boy and he can be violent, like I’m fighting or in *other* ways, but he’s so gentle with his partner.

Emotionally, can take a while to open up, but sometimes, late at night on especially after hunting nights, you’ll be awake, you on his lap, looking at his beautiful eyes and wiping his tears away as he talks about his past and current pain.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Love them.

After killing some monster, a long and tired yet tight hug.

Hello hugs, goodbye hugs. ‘I love you’ hugs. ‘Don’t worry I’ll come back’ hugs.

Hugs from behind, head onto of yours.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Honestly depends, but probably after you nearly died in a hunt.

“Sammy, I’m alright, I’ll probably get some scars but I’m okey.”

“… okey, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He knows you’ll shot it down the second someone tried to flirt with you. You’re loyal and he knows that.

But sometimes… a guy flirting a little bit to aggressively and won’t take the hint you spelled out too him?

He gets up behind you, death stares the guy, and arms around your waist.

“Oh hi Sammy :D!”

“Hey sweetheart, care to come back to me and dean?”

“Yeah-“

“tHeIr TaKeN, mAtE.” The creep says.

“Yeah, by me.”

If the creep still can’t take the hint, guess who has too get bailed out of jail the next morning! Wooho! Sam!

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

From him, on you:

mouth? Obviously. Quick or long make outs are both great. Speaking of making out? Weekly basis. Daylily if you’ll let it. (And if a case isn’t in the way)

Neck kisses? YES YES YES

Forehead. Protective !!!

Shoulders? Also protective!!!! A little ‘hi’ from behind.

From you, to him:

Neck kisses, instant puppy dog eyes.

Nose kisses, if you can reach that is, just. So sweet.

Forehead kisses, Again, if you can reach, so protected.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Really sweet, try’s his best, really wishes to be a dad some day.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Even if you didn’t fall asleep with him somewhat cuddled up with him, you will be.

Nearly always wake before you, probably back from his run. Mumbling about ‘breakfast’.

“Morning baby, you want breakfast?”

You, totally still half asleep, “… yeah.”

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Even if you are a night owl, if it’s hunting time, you’ll go to sleep first.

But if it’s just normal, he’ll have you lay on him. Kissing your head, watching tv till you both fall asleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Definitely waits, he feels like if you knew everything maybe you’d see him for the freak he seems himself as.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Depends on if a hunt is going wrong or if he has a lot bubbling up. But I’d say he’s not very easily angered.

Well, unless someone talks shit about his family, including you. Their face will never look the same.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Really tires to remember everything. Wants to remember every single thing so that he can bring it up in conversation. So you know he’s listening.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Anytime you had anything like a mundane or normal life. Just cooking together? Shopping for groceries? Doing chores together? All his personal heaven.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He understands that you can protect yourself, you’re a hunter after all, but of course he still covers you whenever he cans.

Oh yeah, and chuck forbid something happens too you, everyone’s dead.

When he can, he cuddles you, hugs you, arms around you and head right on top of yours, walking around. Feeling like if anything would even try he could protect you.

I can see him thinking that he doesn’t need to be protected but saving his ass last minute will make him fall in love with you all over again.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Dates? Tries too make them special when he can, but the best you could get on the road is probably just a movie marathon or a diner date with breakfast (and hopefully no dean)

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Well, if we over look the demon blood thing, he definitely bites his nails.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Anything but his hair, he really doesn’t care for, well, of course he works out, needs to be fit for demon hunting but other then that he really doesn't care.

He really doesn’t like people cutting his hair, no hair stylist, not dear old dad (fucking John), not Dean, I think the only person, alive, he’d let cut his hair is you.

Hair holds memory’s and after losing so many people it just feel’s terrible having it cut. Like he’s forgetting them.

But with you it’s different, you want to braid his hair? Sure. Want to style it? Hmm okey. You think it look good a little shorter? Only for you.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Definitely, sometimes he goes of on hunts alone and if he can’t at least hear your voice from a call or two, expect a very clingy Sam when he gets back.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Uses his puppy dog eyes to get anything he wants from you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

I mean as long as your not a demon you’re okey??

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Always a long nap after a hunt with you, of course.

Doesn't have a sleep schedule but tries to get at least 4 hours of sleep.

[rubyvhs]

remedy (viii) — sam winchester

> prev, masterlist

summary: you find sam ten years later, or he finds you, and things change forever— tags: major character deaths, 70% angst, i broke my own heart, case-fic, grieving, mourning, slow burn, praying, very long 13k, though it’s extremely fast paced. general surgeon!fem!reader.

ten years later

“Hey, Miss Moseley,” you call out as the older woman smiles at you and Emmy, it’s the same warm gesture every end of the week as you and your daughter pick up the groceries.

“Hey, sugar. How’s my little angel?” She leans down to kiss your daughter's head, seeing as you’d made it clear to every living, breathing person that no one gets to kiss her anywhere but there. “Oh and how’s Mark? I heard about the promotion he got, that’s wonderful, truly.”

It was unexpected, but yes, your husband got the biggest promotion of his career working at the law firm in town. Obviously you’ve never been prouder (except maybe when your oldest said ‘mama’ first) but it has been with its ups and downs. He stays later nights and it’s a lot more pressure, though now you don’t exactly live paycheck by paycheck, even if you haven’t been doing that anyways, but now you really don’t and you’re grateful. 

“He’s great, thank you. You heard right, I'm proud of his hard work.” She shakes her hand around as if to tell you ‘who cares’ and you know the woman well enough to guess what she’s about to say next.

“And the pay?” Yeah, you were right.

“We’re grateful, Miss Moseley. Thank you for checking in.” You reply politely as the last of her things are ringed up and the cashier shops her away. She kisses your cheek as a goodbye as you ring your things up.

“She means well, you know.” The eighteen year old says from behind the counter and you can’t help but laugh. Not exactly at her, but, you know.

“Of course she does, Missouri is a sweetheart, we’re just not too sure about things ourselves. How are you doing in your senior year?” You deflect.

“‘M okay. Just passed my English final and Maths— Biology and Chemistry are what's left.” She replies, waving to Emmy. She laughs, waving back with an enthusiasm she saves especially for teenage girls. “Hopefully I can actually graduate this year.”

“You will, sweetheart,” you reassure, the nickname coming easy to you. It always did. “I’m sure of it. Call me anytime, okay?” She nods with a smile, handing you back your card and you carry the bags to the car. 

Emmy’s holding onto your blue dress, with little white flowers all over it, the one you like to wear most of the time considering how hot it’s been getting. Though your older daughter doesn’t mind the heat (for whatever unholy reason), the rest of you are minding it a whole damn lot, you begged Mark to let you change practically your entire closet and he hadn’t argued much. 

When the bags are in the trunk you strap Emmy in the back and turn on a country playlist Mark had made you a while ago. Though when you listen to it it reminds you of your days in Stanford. 

As you park your jeep, you can feel your throat constrict and the tip of your nose redden. It’s hard not to notice the shiny black impala in your drive way. And it is there. Just there. Who put it there? Why would the universe torture you like this? What the hell even kind of joke is this—

“Mommy?” Emmy whines out, clearly starting to feel the effect of the heat with the A/C working only halfway. 

“Yeah, baby.”

“Wanna show Daddy.” She says as she waves her iPad to show you the drawing she made. You should, in fact, go inside. And find out what the hell he’s doing in your house. 

When you take Emmy’s hand it takes everything in you to control your breathing. You’ve been better than when you were in college. It had been— a rough couple of years to say the least, but you powered through them with a determination you didn’t know you had in you. Then you started your internship and found Mark, you had dated for a year before he proposed and of course you had said yes. Now, he’s coming back and he’ll— God, you just know that he’s going to ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to bring together. 

Emmy runs through the door and straight to her dad with a yell. “Baby, no shouting.” You lecture loosely, shutting the door behind you as the three men in your living room stand up to greet you, Emmy already forgetting about her drawing and running up to her room.

And that’s when you decide how you should approach it. It’s the only way nothing will turn sour. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You eye your husband, leaning in to kiss his cheek. You haven’t even looked at them yet but their presence is all consuming that you actually gulp before Mark puts a hand in your back so you’re facing them.

You find his eyes first. And it looks like he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire time. You don’t hear a single damn thing your husband is saying because you and Sam are staring into the other’s eyes in a way that makes you think you may be cheating right in front of him. 

Sam’s changed so drastically that it brings you to a violent halt. His hair’s the first thing you notice, it’s grown to just above his shoulder, and it’s tamer, no more of that shaggy haircut he had ruffled everywhere. It fits him with the black suit he has on, that and his height. You’ve grown maybe an inch, he looks so much taller. Maybe you’re imagining it, maybe he just looks that good, either way, it’s mesmerizing.

When Mark says your name twice you snap out of it, shaking your head with a hum.

“Agents Plant and Page.” Agents who the fuck now?

“Excuse me— what?” Your husband narrows his eyes at you, but when you don’t budge he lets out a small awkward laugh. 

“I’m sorry, agents, it’s the heat, really bad this week and she gets these migraines.”

Sam nods, completely professional and understanding as he talks to your husband, “We understand. I know how migraines can be,” yeah, ‘cause you used to have them, “it’s no problem. We should get going, we’ve already taken up too much of your time.”

“Oh. I thought you said you wanted to talk to my wife. I can go get the bags from the car, leave y’all to it.”

“That’s really not—”

Dean doesn’t hesitate to cut Sam off, “Yes, that would be good. Thank you.”

Mark kisses your lips this time and you’re stunned for a second before kissing back, but it’s brief and he nods at the gentlemen in politeness before leaving. You’re left with both of them. “Dean,” You announce shakily, “Sam.” 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Dean smiles, like it’s nostalgic to see you, and you suppose it is. You’re not angry with either of them, especially not Dean. Despite his flirty nature, he hadn’t been rude to you and he’d respected you every time you met him. He moves past the coffee table to take your hand but you, to your absolute fucking surprise, pull him in for a hug. 

Dean’s grown up too. He looks it, his voice is way lower, his stubble and those damn suits they're both wearing. He lets out a laugh, hugging back. “Haven't seen you in ages.” 

“Yeah,” he sighs, releasing your grip to place a quick kiss in your hair. When he moves away, Sam’s standing behind him. He looks— all 6 foot something of him— awkward and unsure and it might be the most heartbreaking thing you’ve seen. Sam’s changed in appearance, he’s grown up, sure, but at Stanford he was confident. He wasn’t cocky but he knew his stuff and didn’t back down, this Sam’s curling up into himself the second you came in the room (or when you first bothered to look at him anyway). 

“Hey, Sam.” You smile, repeating the same gesture you had with Dean, except it’s different, so so different with him. His hand’s on your waist, yours wrapped around his neck. The same way you hug everyone else. Then why does his embrace feel more intimate? And his cologne, God. 

He pulls away a few seconds later (maybe, who know, it could have been hours). 

“We didn’t know—”

“Yeah, I figured as much with the whole agents thing.” You’re not stupid, you’ve seen the news, Dean and Sam are wanted in some states, for a long list that you never bothered checking for the sole reason that you never thought you’d see them and you had such an exceptional picture of them in your head that you didn’t want to ruin it.

But the truth is, you also don’t believe that they would do it. Sam and Dean wanted for theft? Murder? you don’t buy it. Sam had told you how dangerous his job was, you know it has to come with consequences. 

“So why are you here?”

“We’re investigating something.” You frown. No animal attacks here as far as you know.

“Investigating what?”

“There was a girl. She died in the neighborhood last year, Carla.” 

Your face falls and you cross your arms in front of your chest. “Get out.” Dean’s eyes widen, clearly taken aback by your sudden change in tone. “Get out, both of you.”

“Hey—”

“No, you’re joking. You came in here to ask my husband about his dead niece. And you made him think you’re fucking FBI, which is illegal by the way, Mr. Stanford Lawyer. And for what? Is this all just for fun?” You’re praying your voice doesn’t get too loud but you can’t help the pit of anger in your stomach. They can’t do this. They can’t.

“That’s not what we’re doing,” Sam speaks up, his eyebrows furrowed together. Sam speaks in a much lower tone than he did in Stanford. It’s less urgent, more patient and understanding. He’s listening more than he is talking. It’s a noticeable change from the man you once knew, “we’re trying to find out what happened to her, I swear. We’re here to help.”

“Well, sorry to break it to you, but there haven’t been any animals around lately so this isn’t up your alley— which by the way, fuck you both.” You don’t remember ever being this immature but damn it, do the Winchesters get a ride out of you. “You’re both lying to my husband and expect me to do what? Welcome you with open arms?” The fact that you did goes unsaid.

There’s a deadly kind of silence that overcomes the three of you. You’re waiting for an explanation, they’re looking at each other like they don’t want to give one, and your oldest daughter just woke up from her nap and is walking down the stairs. She’s on the last step, rubbing the sleep from her eyes when she notices the two big men in suits and frowns. “Mommy…” she mumbles, clearly ready to go back upstairs.

At least the kid has good instincts. “Hey, sweetheart.” You smile slightly, leaving both of them in the living room to walk over to her, kneeling down. “What’s wrong? Why are you up?”

“Sound. Where’s daddy?”

“Outside. You wanna go and play with Emmy or are you gonna go back to sleep?” She shrugs, looks back at Sam and Dean then you, questions written all over her pretty little face. “Those are the police, they’re trying to help us. It’s okay, you can go back upstairs and I’ll bring you a snack, okay?” She nods and you get up, kiss her head, and let her run back upstairs.

When you face them, not moving closer, they both get the message. You want to say it’s easy, watching them walk to the front door, kicking them out, losing Sam again. But it isn’t. And you can’t help what you do next. 

“Sam,” it’s just his name. That’s all you said, but God, you can practically feel how tense he just got, standing in place. He looks at Dean who nods in understanding and walks out of the house. Sam faces you, you’re closer than you think you should be.

“I never wanted to hurt you. Or Mark. And— Dean and I, we had no idea this was your house or that she was your niece—”

“Mark’s niece.”

“Right. We didn’t know. We asked around and they gave us Mark's last name, we thought it was a coincidence. And there’s no pictures—”

“I don’t like hanging pictures in the house.” You cut him off, not sure why you’re confessing like it’s a sin, but the need to explain yourself to Sam has apparently not gone away completely. He nods in understanding and sighs. “I didn’t mean to kick you guys out, I just hate how much you’ve lied to me, and I don’t even know why, I don’t even know what it’s about.”

He slips up, “Baby, I wish I could tell you—”

“You don’t get to call me that.” Maybe it’s Stanford all over again. Have you really grown up? Have you really changed for the better? Will you ever be able to let go of Sam? You haven’t thought about him for a long time, but seeing him in front of you— in fact you haven’t thought of him since you two broke up. Maybe you’re not mentally ready for this.

But more than that, you’re not letting anyone get between you and your husband.

“I know.” He groans, rubbing a hand over his face, “I know. I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, me too. I hope you guys find out what happened with Carla.” 

Sam’s about to say something. A rebuttal, probably. Maybe then you can both have an actual conversation. But he decides against it and opens the door, walking out. 

Wouldn’t be the first time.

You see him nod at Mark and Dean end the conversation with your husband to get back in the impala. You watch them drive off before shutting your eyes, grounding yourself. You need to calm down. Obviously, you told Mark that you talked to someone before, and had a brief relationship with them, it wasn’t a secret, but you don’t think he knows that it’s the same guy who just pretended to be FBI and talked to him about his niece. 

“What did they ask about?” Your husband asks as he gets inside, Emmy on his right while he's holding two hands full of groceries. 

“Carla. You didn’t tell them she was your niece?” Now that you notice it, they were surprised to find out Carla's in any way related to you and Mark. He shrugs and moves to the kitchen but you follow him with a frown. “Why?”

“‘Cause they wouldn't take it seriously. The police thought I was overreacting since we were related but the FBI actually listened, and they believed me. I don’t want them to think emotions are taking over.” And the mocking way he says the word makes your heart clench.

You fell in love with Mark pretty quickly— or, he fell in love with you. And you eventually did too, with the sweet gestures and the kind comments, he was an incredible man, an even better husband that you’re proud to call yours. But he also had some issues, and trouble when it came to his family. While you guys do live in the same neighborhood as them, he doesn't like them. And for good reason, they're assholes. But he does love them.

He isn’t actually an ‘emotional guy’ and to label him as such— well, Mark is old-school. He won’t do well with that. His manhood and all that— and you’re not even saying it in a condescending way, you know how he was raised, it’s the one thing he’ll never back down from. But he’s been so good to you over the past five years, you’ve had your ups and downs, of course you did, but you couldn’t think of a better husband.

Can you? Can you think of someone you’d love more and want to spend the rest of your life with more than Mark? The man who traveled all the way back to your home country to ask your father for your hand in marriage? 

“I’m— I’ll get started on dinner. They seem like good people, and they’re looking into it.” You smile slightly, leaning up to give him a quick kiss, putting the groceries away, your oldest daughter has come down to even help you and spend time with Emmy.

And maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you should just take it to the grave, but God, you can’t help but call Gen’s number when it’s ten and you’re on your couch all alone. Mark is out with friends, your kids are in their room and you can’t stop yourself from calling a number you’d left abandoned for a year. An entire year. 

It rings once. Twice. And when you hear her voice through the speaker you bite back tears. “Hello?”

“Hey— hey, Gen.” A relieved sort of laugh comes from the other line and it eases you into the conversation if only a little.

“Hi, sweetie. I haven’t heard from you in a while, how are Mark and the kids?” You were ready for an argument, and maybe that’s why you called in the first place, to get what’s been coming for you. You deserve it after you abandoned her when she needed you the most. You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect normal with Gen. You don’t deserve it.

“Yeah. They’re okay. How about you and Rue?” As if the universe wanted to make a point, Rue, you guess, stole her mother’s phone from her hand and ran around with it, asking you how you’re doing and that she misses you. Rue’s almost six, but she’s as much of a troublemaker as she was at four.

“Rue’s fine!” She yells across the room, then she takes the phone and you can hear her better. “She’s great, just got into fifth grade, actually.” 

You smile, the tears running down your cheeks without your consent. “That’s— great, Gen.”

She picks up on the crack in your voice and sighs. “Sweetie. Why’d you call now? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Nothing, I feel so bad I haven’t called and I promise, I’m so sorry, Gen. You know I love her and I didn’t mean to do this.” you cut yourself off, scared you’re talking over her, but she doesn’t speak, letting you continue. “And I miss you and my little niece. I miss Rue and the kids, of course, they also miss her and I’ve been such a—”

“Nuh, uh. None of that here. You were grieving.”

You scoff, a hand slapping the tears away. “No, you were grieving.”

“Jess was as much of my girlfriend as she was your best friend. I’ve known her longer, but she was always your soulmate, and I never, for a second, held that against you.” It hurts knowing that what she’s saying is true. You don’t want to believe her because what have you done for her to love you this way? Unconditionally.

“I know. I wanted to be there for you but I couldn’t even say her name and I’m, I’m so scared. Even now, I’m always so scared, and I think about her all the time.”

“I think about her too…” you want to say you’re imagining the crack in her voice, that it’s a slip up that means nothing. But truthfully, Gen’s only ever cried with you. She’s not close to her parents and despite her multitude of friends, most of them had drifted after college. Not the three of you. Not you, Jess and Gen. 

You wish you could say it stayed the same after Jess passed away, but you did leave her. and you can’t find it in yourself to say that you’d do it differently. Because you used your grief to be a good mother this past year, you spent so much time with the kids. Even with Carla gone too. You and Mark kept it together.

You’re not sure how seeing Sam broke you the most of the events.

“She loves you. I think— we just have to remember her love, right?” Gen sniffles and you imagine her nodding her head, a hand running through her hair like she usually is when she’s sad.

“Yeah. Yeah, sweetie, but—” Gen breathes heavily through her nose. “But why’d you call? You haven’t— it’s been a year, what’s going on?” 

“I, uh, saw someone. Today.”

“Who?”

“Sam Winchester.” 

“The criminal?”

Explaining to Gen about Sam pretending to be FBI and how he came to ‘investigate’ Carla’s death after being ‘wanted’ in a few states almost gives her a heart attack. You want to share her worry about the safety of your family when he’s in proximity, but Sam looked all but broken when he was standing at your doorstep. 

“So I kind of threw them out and now they’re giving Mark hope again that they’ll find out what happened, but just— it sucks. He’s such a liar and I had no idea.” 

“Yeah, but, maybe you should report it to the police, you know?”

You frown, shaking your head. “Police? He isn’t even wanted in here. I think it’s in… I don’t know Tennessee?”

“Still. He could be dangerous and he knows where you live now.” You aren’t sure what to think. Is she right? Is Sam dangerous? He doesn’t look it. 

“Sure. Sure, Gen, I’ll see what I can do. I just, wanted to talk to you and maybe see if we can go out, you know? If you want, if you’re free.” 

“Yeah. Of course. Next Friday? We can go to Lilo’s Diner, if you want.“ Before Jess passed away when you got married, you couldn’t help but find an apartment next to here’s and Gen’s. In hindsight, it was an impulsive decision since Mark told you to choose the location, but you couldn’t help wanting to be next to her. But the real kicker was that before you settled down, you had completely forgotten that where you are right now, Lawrence, Kansas, is Sam’s hometown. 

“Yeah. That’s good, I don’t mind.” You both say your goodbye’s, and it’s a little tear-filled, but it gets the job done. 

You’re not completely convinced that you’ll give Sam in, but you know you need to consider it. If your daughters are ever in danger… you don’t know you’d do. You sigh, getting up and dimming the lights. “God, I wish you could— I need help.” You’re done crying, you just need help, “just— please, i wish I could just— I love him but I don’t even know if he’s it for me, I wish I could think without him in the picture, fuck.”

And if cursing while trying to pray isn’t message enough for you to just go to bed, you don’t know what is.

“Mommy? Mommy!” You stir from your sleep. It’s been forced upon you to be a light sleeper since you’ve had your kids, and one of them shouting your name alerts you. 

Emmy’s jumping on your chest, “Door. Mommy, door.” You groan, running a hand through your untamed hair and getting up groggily. At least she’s in a good mood for whatever reason.

You put on a shirt that you haven’t crumpled in your sleep and take a hair tie with you downstairs as you attempt to make it look decent, swinging the door open before you can ask who it is. 

Oh. “Sam?”

“Good morning.” There’s no Dean this time, just Sam. Just very tall and intimidating Sam looking at your with the most innocent look you’ve ever seen but you still can’t help clutching your daughter to your leg, mumbling about her going upstairs but she doesn’t listen. “I— I’m sorry, I came to tell you about… Mark.”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head in question and confusion because mark is upstairs, right? He’s in your bed, right next to you. You just hadn’t checked, that’s all. “What about him? He’s fine.”

Sam frowns, loosening his tie. Maybe you should loosen the collar around your neck. Where is Mark? He was just out with friends last night and you’d gone to sleep after praying, you must’ve missed his call telling you he’ll spend the night elsewhere. Except he’s never done that. Mark’s never spent the night anywhere other than right next to you since you’ve gotten married.

But it’s fine, you’re overreacting and Sam is here to tell you Mark was found drunk or something. He won’t get arrested. You need him. His kids need him. “Hey, hey, you with me? Mark’s— I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” 

“What do you mean?” You’re out of breath even if you’ve just gotten out of bed, “what do you mean you’re sorry? What did you do? Where is he?”

Emmy’s tugging on your pants, even if you can hardly feel it, but you do feel Sam stepping into your house, his hands moving closer before you flinch a way from his touch, in a result Emmy’s hands is forced away from your leg. You apologize to your little girl, leaning down to scoop her in your arms. 

“Mark’s—”

“Shut up, Sam. Stop it. Where is he?”

You can see his heart breaking, you can feel it. Maybe from his eyes alone, even. But it doesn’t even register to you, because why is he sad? What does he have to be upset about? 

“They can’t find him. He’s… gone.”

“Gone where? Is he at work? It’s— only eight or something—”

“It’s eleven.” Your breath hitches and you shake your head. What does that even mean coming from a liar? Sam’s nothing but a liar, he always has been he’s— 

“Where are the police?” he says your name, soft and you shout, “Where are the police?” Your daughter flinches at your tone and cuddles her head into your chest. “Don’t— I’ll report you. You and Dean, if you don’t tell me what you did. What did you do?”

It’s futile. They didn’t do anything. Deep down you know that. 

But you’re not sure if you can listen to ‘deep down’ when your husband is not next to you. Calming and comforting you. 

“Sam,” you breathe, putting her down, “Sam, where is he?” He doesn’t step closer, brushes a hand down his face, “Sam.” You try, one last time before you’re sobbing, hitting at his chest. “Where is he? Where is— Mark, where is he! Sam!” 

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t tell you that everything will be okay and that Mark’s only gone for the day. He holds your body close to his and you bury your head into his chest, your tears wet against your face as you fist your hands in his shirt. Your eyes burn, they’re hard to open. Maybe it’s for the best. 

Your world doesn’t spin often, but when it does, you have Mark. You quit your first job, Mark’s there. You’re low on money, Mark’s there. Your kids seem like they hate you, he’s by your side.

What are you supposed to do now? What are you supposed to do other than pray for him back?

Because you did this. You prayed yesterday and now look what happened, he’s gone. Just like you wished for, even if you’d don’t really mean it then. You mean it now, to have him back.

Sam lets go of you eventually, to get you a glass of water and coax your daughter into her room. You’re not sure what the time is, just that your eyes couldn’t get more swollen if you tried, and you will. 

“Here.” He hands you a cup and you don’t look up at him as he takes the seat next to you again making you briefly wonder if you’re having an out of body experience. You could be. You must be. 

“I should call the police.” You say through sniffles and Sam sighs. “You should… go, I guess. Since you’re not real police.”

“I’ll stay. We talked to them anyways and they think we’re FBI so— ”

“But I’ll tell them.” It’s low. Defeated. Sam doesn’t speak for a second and you don’t want to imagine the look on his face. You can’t. “Just go.”

His scoff shouldn’t be as comforting as it is. “No. You’re not pushing me away when you need me.” He tilts your head up, his finger hooking under your chin, “I’m not leaving you again. Never again.”

“It’s— it’s not like that, right now. Sam, go.”

“Tell them. Call the police, make them come here, and tell them I’m not FBI, tell them my real name, I don’t care, they can arrest me when I know you’re okay.” 

Is it fair to say you never want to be okay if it means Sam leaving? “My kids.” You whisper, as a thought. Something you put out there. 

“Dean can take care of them if you want us to go to the police.” You nod, touching your cheek to check if you’re still crying. Your eyes are so raw you can’t even tell at this point. Sam takes his phone out to call Dean but you hold his wrist. 

“Gen. Call Gen.” He gapes in surprise, is about to argue, but seems to see something on your face because he pulls up her number from your phone. You think she’s not going to respond as the phone starts to run out of rings but when she finally does you collapse with a sigh, one hand on your heart, the other holding Sam’s arm in support. And you’re fucking sat down.

“Gen. Hey, it’s Sam. Sam Winchester.” Shit. Shit. She doesn’t like Sam. Shit. “Yeah— oh. Yeah, she threatened already. Look, Mark’s gone and we can’t find him, she’s asking if you can come over and watch her kids.”

You don’t hear the conversation. You don’t hear except white static as you leave Sam on the couch and go to your kids’ room. Your oldest is on her IPad. The youngest is playing with her blocks. They both look at you expectantly for food and you give them a watery smile. “Aunt Gen is coming over. She’ll get you breakfast, okay?”

They both seem pleased, but your oldest isn’t stupid. She’s only four but Mark had been gifted as a child. Not enough to skip grades, but he was intelligent, both emotionally and academically. And apparently your oldest has inherited that because she walks up to you with a smile.

“You’re okay, Mommy.” You’re not sure if it’s a question or not but you wipe your face in case it’s showing anything other than that fact. “We will have fun with Genny.”

“No, baby, I’m going somewhere and then we’ll have fun with Genny, but you’re staying alone first.”

“I will take care of Emmy.” Your heart clenches as you nod quickly, taking her in for a hug so she doesn’t see the tears. 

“Good job, Jess.” Even saying her name. She’s your daughter, she isn’t even really Jess but saying her name… you can’t do this right now.

When you get back down dressed for the station, Sam’s in the kitchen cooking. “I’m dressed. we should go.”

He looks back to see you are, in fact, dressed. He hands you a cup of water, “drink this and we’ll go.”

You frown but oblige anyway. You’re a doctor, it isn’t hard to tell what he’s doing, with the amount of tears you’ve cried, you’d think you’re dehydrated too. “I’ll text Gen that there’s omelets. She can make sandwiches when she’s here.”

You acknowledge the words, handing him the cup. He locks the door behind him just as Gen parks her car and it’s the calmest you’ve felt all morning. At least your kids will be safe. You give her a hug that lasts about two seconds then walk to the Impala as fast as you can, certain you won’t be driving in this condition.

The police station is a whirlwind of screaming and yelling. No one’s telling you enough, you need to know now, and you might have accidentally called Sam his real name once, though you’re hoping no one caught it. Four hours later you’re crying and shaking your head in the lobby. 

The lady at the desk tries to calm you down while Sam talks to them inside, “Please, Miss, you need to remain calm while we—”

“My husband is gone, just off the face of the earth, how the fuck does that happen?”

“We’re not sure.” You look back hoping it’s Sam but find an older looking guy. Darker skin and maybe even a little taller than Sam? Though that must be impossible, they could be the same height. “His friends all say he was on his way home the last time they saw him and we found his car by a neighborhood next to yours but it was parked. He could have just went somewhere else.”

“I called him a thousand times on my way here and Mark never spends the night out of the house.”

“Have you considered a different possibility?” He asks, taking a step closer and you suddenly get intimidated by the demeanor if not his height, “maybe he did it on purpose. To spend the night somewhere else.”

“What on Earth is wrong with you? Are you all really that bad at your job that the only excuse you can come up with is him cheating? Who the hell gives you the right to—”

“We’re merely covering all our basis.”

“No you’re a bunch of—” Someone clears their throat so loudly it makes you jump. Jump right into their arms— into Sam’s arms.

“She’s worked up, considering.” The police, whoever the fuck that man is nods understandably and you’re ready to elbow Sam as you stare daggers at the one in front of you. “But she doesn’t make a point. It’s not likely Mister Davis is having an affair,” he moves your body out of the way to stand toe-to-toe with the man, “and even if he is, do you think it’s smart to threaten his wife with it?”

“Threaten? You’ve got it wrong, Agent.”

“Please don’t speak to Misses Davis again, it’s clear you can’t handle this case.” Sam places both hands on your shoulders to walk you out of the station and when you’re finally alone you slap his hands away. 

“What the hell? What about Mark—”

“They don’t have anything on him. We called everyone, we tried to track his phone but it’ll take a while. Me and Dean tried tracking it before I came over anyway and we couldn’t find it, they won’t have better luck. They usually put them in warehouses so I told them to check all the ones in the area. Dean is on it too. Look, we need to talk.” 

“Warehouse— what? Does now seem like the time for talking?” You scold. Even Sam's speaking in code.

“Did you… wish for something yesterday?”

Your heart slows. “Like what?”

“Like… wanting him gone.”

Your heart stops.

You tend to run things over in your head a lot.

“Mark? Mark, come back in, the kids don’t need—”

“No way. If my angel says she needs a cookie, we’re getting her a cookie.” You sigh affectionately, a smile threatening to split your face open. He’s been so good since you’ve gotten married, but you thought that would all stop the second you told him you’re pregnant. It couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s been more engaged, beautiful with your kids, even years later. 

He’s the best father you could have dreamed of. He’s a damn good husband too, but Mark is… complicated. His family is complicated. He grew up in such a toxic environment that during the first year of dating him, he’d cursed you out in front of his entire family. You got married anyways, he’s a good man, and you know he is. He’s changing slowly, trying to better himself because he has you. 

And it isn’t even something he’s just ‘saying’, you know that because now? Four years later, Mark would eat up anyone in his family that says one word about you, whether it be one of his sisters or one of his brothers’ wives.

Two hours later Mark comes back with Jess and two boxes of cookies. When you put Jess to bed he hands you a box of your favorite chocolate, the expensive kind. And it isn’t like you’re broke, you’re doing okay to spoil yourselves every once in a while, but you’re also saving up for when the kids grow up since you know they’ll be more demanding than they are now. So while it didn’t put a dent in anything, it was unnecessary. But he did it. He did it and he kissed you and you’re pretty sure that was the night Emmy came into your lives. Or would be coming in nine months.

Sometimes you wish you could stop ruining things over in your head.

“Come back to me, fuck, come back.” Sam’s saying your name over and over as your eyes flutter open. “Can you hear me?” 

“Yeah.” You groan, a hand coming up to touch your head before he stops you. “What happened?”

“You blacked out and fell on the concrete. They did an X-ray, it came back okay but you’re not eating enough. Don’t touch your head though.”

“Why?” you reply stubbornly though you're grateful he cared enough to get you to the emergency room as fake FBI. Speaking of, you guys should probably head out. “Doesn't matter, let's go home. I'll pay the—”

“I already paid, let's go.” you frown as he helps you up. Thankfully, you don't need any assistance walking, not that Sam gets the message, his hand on your lower back as he nods at the receptionist.

The car ride is as silent as you expected it to be with your multitude of questions. About Mark, Sam, your kids. About everything. The most important one is where the hell is Mark, but every time you think of that you're back to crying. The second is where did Sam get the money to cover your bill? Seeing as he's not a lawyer or anything. 

“You okay?” He asks, giving you a glance before his eyes are back on the road. He must realize how stupid the question is because he follows it up with: “We’re going to find him. I promise.”

“Yeah.”

“Dean’s already—”

“How? How are you and Dean— I don’t even know if Dean went to college,” no offense, he just doesn’t look the type, “and you all but dropped out of law. On what earth will the two of you find my husband?”

“Look—”

“Real answers!” You scream, slamming your hand down on your leg, the friction from your jeans sting as you take it back. “Real answers Sam, or I swear God…”

He sighs, parking on the side of the road. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“You passed out.”

“Try me, because my husband is missing and I left my kids with Gen who I haven’t seen in almost a year and now I’m sitting next to Sam Winchester from Stanford—”

“It’s a curse.”

“What.”

When someone says something is a curse they usually follow it up with trying to sell you some oils for way too high that will ‘break the curse’. But that’s not what Sam is doing. Sam is talking to you like it’s logical. Like he’s sane. He’s telling you, with a straight fucking face, that monsters are real and that after he was born here a witch placed a curse on the town.

He’s not trying to sell you anything except that this is the truth. To him, this is real. And he’s looking at you like you’d be stupid not to believe that a witch placed a curse on an entire town so that whatever someone wishes, it comes true.

You wished for better mental stability everyday but that never came.

“Sam,” you sigh sympathetically, “look, I don’t know what happened before you graduated, but you’re a good man, you should not let—”

“What? No! What I'm telling you is real! Monsters and werewolves, vampires, witches, they’re all real. Now you need to think before you answer, did you wish for anything yesterday? Anything regarding Mark?”

“Wish? Are you— no! Of course not.”

“Please, you need to level with me here. Anything at all.” You should get out of the car, slam the door right in his face, and tell everyone that Sam Winchester— straight A student in Stanford— has officially gone crazy. And you’re witnessing it first hand. 

You don’t end up doing any of that except for slamming the door in his face. That, he deserves. For lying and for finding you and giving you hope about your husband when he’s obviously gone crazy and for making you leave your daughters when you could be with them right now. 

He gets out of the car, and when you glance over at him he looks like he’s going to try and convince you of something again but his eyes widen. When you face whatever it is that he’s staring at— it’s just Missouri.

“Missouri?” He asks, frowning and you start to notice that this is, in fact, his hometown. He probably knows a lot of the older locals. “What are you doing here? I thought we told you to stay inside ‘till we find whoever cursed the town.”

Now you’re really confused. Where on earth does get off playing with an old lady’s head? “I know you did not just call me old, sweetie.” 

What. The. Hell.

“See!” Sam can’t help but let out with a relieved sigh. As if that actually shows anything other than you’re seriously creeped out.

“No reason to be creeped, darling, but Sam’s right. Monsters exist and a witch did curse this godforsaken town.”

“How did you—”

“I’m psychic.” Right. And you’re Beyoncé. 

“I wouldn’t count on it. I heard you sing early in the morning and even the birds couldn’t take it.”

“Rude— and also how the fuck—”

“I can read minds. Though I don’t usually, it seemed like the only way to get you to believe poor Sam. He’s a good man,“ he seems to be getting told that a bunch, “and he only means to help. Him and Dean are hunters.”

Is the sun too hot? Probably, considering it’s the sun. Maybe you should sit in the shade. Or pass out. Passing out sounds better than finishing this conversation. Missouri sighs, a hand on Sam’s cheek. “It was good seeing you, sweetie. Get her home and tell her everything she needs to know. She gets migraines—”

“I know.”

“Good. Get her anything she needs but especially some cold air.” 

“To sum it up,” you gulp down the rest of your cup before facing Sam, “Monsters are real. You’re a hunter. Your dad died, and Dean never went to college?” 

“Sure, I guess. Is that all you got? That’s a very… random  summary.”

“Right but if Dean’s never went to college and Monsters are real, I think the apocalypse starting really doesn’t sound that far-fetched.” Apparently by monsters he also meant Angels. And prophets. And too many things he just told you— like Lucifer and Micheal the archangels and so so so many things. 

He chuckles, refilling your glass. “What is it with the Dean and college thing with you.”

You shrug, taking the cup with a small thanks. You’re probably going to need to go to the bathroom soon with how much he’s been keeping you hydrated. “I don’t know, he seems smart, I’m surprised ‘s all. can we call him and ask what he found yet?”

Sam’s face falls like you slapped him and he sighs. “The wish— I’ll tell you what I think happened, okay?” Not okay. “You wished for Mark to disappear or to go yesterday while he was coming back from the night out and the witch— the way her curse works is that she has demons working for her. Demons chained to this town to do her dirty work for her—”

“Sam, people wish for a million dollars everyday, they don’t actually get it.”

“These are demons, it isn’t ’you wish for something’, you get it. It’s ‘you curse someone out’, they get it.” You didn’t mean to curse him out. You hadn’t even really wished for anything, just prayed. And the praying wasn’t that serious. It wasn’t like you wanted Mark gone, you just wanted answers for whatever’s going on in your heart. “Carla,” Sam runs a hand over his mouth, like it’s paining him to tell you this, to explain to you why your niece died. “A teacher cursed her out in school the day before she was gone.”

No. No, there’s just no fucking way. Missouri is almost eighty something, why on earth would she lie, though?

“Please, I know it’s scary and it’s hard to believe but I need you to trust me. What did you wish for yesterday?”

“I— I don’t even remember—”

“Anything. Anything at all—”

“I wished he was out of the picture.” His breath hitches. Yours almost comes to a stop. “But— I wasn’t wishing, I was praying. I asked— I prayed that I could think clearly without thinking of him. I didn’t want him to go, Sam, I swear—”

His eyes soften as he pulls you to his chest, “I know. I know, sweetheart.” 

Maybe the crying won’t ever stop.

“Dean found the witch. Or at least he thinks. We can’t kill the demons until the witch breaks the chains so I’m going to go help him follow the lead, are you okay to stay alone?” Sam says when he comes back into the room after a short phone call with his brother.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You’re not fine. You’re nowhere near fucking fine. You’re the furthest point away from ‘fine’. But Sam is going to… go kill demons? Play dress up with Dean? Who knows anymore. So you let him go with a goodbye and ’stay safe’. As you close the front door, you give it your back and Jess is standing there with her school book in hand. 

“Where’s Daddy?”

Oh. God. You don’t even— you can’t possibly think of a way to tell your kids their father is gone. The entire time Sam had explained the supernatural thing, not once had he brought up that Mark might still be out there somewhere. 

How do you tell your daughter you killed her father?

“Jess, dad’s out right now. He’s very sick, and we can’t see him ‘till he gets better.” She frowns, tilting her head in question— you’re sure you have no answers to cover it. “but ‘till then, we’ll…”

Maybe you should be holding yourself together a little more for your children. They shouldn’t see you break apart because who will take care of them? But it hits you. You’ve spent the whole day looking for Mark and being so sure he’s out there somewhere that you believed Sam when he said he was taken by a demon.

But the fact of the matter still stands. Mark is gone. Your husband is gone. 

And maybe it shouldn’t hit you so hard when you killed him.

The next four hours go by in a blur. Your kids are fine, they’re drawing and coloring. They’re happy they get to miss school today and you’re pacing the halls, wishing you’d taken up Gen on her offer to stay with you. How did she get through this? How did she get through this alone? 

You haven’t even called your parents, or Mark’s. His siblings. A funeral. This is so real. It’s happening, you’re losing— you lost your husband. He’s gone and you didn’t even get a warning. Where was your warning? 

Maybe you should lay down for a few hours. Your starting to see things move around in the windows.

It’s officially freak-out-hour. Twelve AM. You call Sam twice before he answers.

“I think my house is haunted.” You’ve never found your voice that shaky in your life.

“You what? Are you okay? Are the kids okay?”

“They’re fine. In their room, but the lights keep flickering and I keep seeing something moving.”

“Shit. Do you have salt? A lot of salt?” 

“Some. Enough for food, I haven’t stocked up for a demon battle.”

“Get as much as you can and make a circle. Ghosts can’t cross salt circles.”

“What if it’s a demon?”

“There are— are you sure? Are you sure there’s something? Did you piss anyone off today?”

You think. Hard. “I don’t—” Oh. “The police station guy.”

“No, no. Fuck! Make the circle, get in it, I’m on my way.” He hangs up and the circle comes out uneven and sloppy. You’re shaking so much by the time you’re done you don’t notice it’s only small enough to fit your kids. When you go check on them, they aren’t in their room.

“Jess? Emmy?” Sam’s voice wakes you up from your nap against the hard wall. That’s why your head is pounding. “Hey, hey, where’s mommy?” That’s all you hear before his heavy steps run up the stairs and he finds you in the hallway. 

“Fuck. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You shake your head, hoping to ease him, though that’s the least of your concerns. “Are they okay? Are Emmy and Jess okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he breathes out, leaning down to engulf you in a surprising hug that you return with no hesitation. You were hallucinating. You never thought you’d be so thankful for hallucinating. “Are you,” he’s shaking. His words anyways, his hands are too still for your liking. “Are you okay? I tried calling but you didn’t answer, and I came here as fast as I could. I thought something happened to you—”

“I haven’t eaten, and I’m so tired—did, did you kill the witch?” You sound crazy. You sound stupid and twelve.

And yet, the second his soft, “Yes.” Is out, you visibly relax in his arms. He’s holding you, your head on his chest, and it’s the calmest you’ve felt in the past twenty four hours.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“How do I know you’re real? How do I know you’re not… a monster or possessed.”

“Tests,” he sighs. Sam always looked like he wanted to keep his real life away from you, keep you at a distance, so the more you ask, the more he feels a part of him breaking. He wanted better for you. 

“Shapeshifters burn up in contact with silver, like your ring,” he interlaces your fingers together and his skin doesn’t sizzle. “Demons show themselves if you say ‘Christo’.” You look up but there’s nothing. He’s still there. “Ghosts will leave the person they’re possessing if you hit them with rocksalt.” 

“They can possess people?”

“Only really powerful ones.” 

“There should be a crash course on monsters.” You frown, leaning in closer, like maybe you don’t need a crash course. Just him. Just Sam.

He lets out a small laugh, a polite one, but you feel it against your head and it brings you so much relief, you’re scared what you’re going to do when he’s gone.

Because he will be gone. He will go and he’ll leave you and you’ll have to deal with—

“Hey, hey, calm down for me. What’s wrong?”

You take a deep breath, but all it does is run tears down your cheeks, “I have to tell Jess and Emmy. Emmy’s so young and she wouldn’t understand, she’ll just want Daddy, what am I supposed to say, Sam? And Jess… she asked about him. I killed—.”

“No, stop it, don’t. You were thinking. A thought, that’s all. I bet he thought the same thing a hundred times, it’s normal, you’re married, it’s just unfortunate a demon heard yours.”

You’re still scared, that doesn’t really comfort you. You’re sharing your earth with demons. Demons. That came from hell. Which means hell, heaven, they exist and mark is in one of them right now. 

You end up telling your oldest with tears in your eyes and Jess comforts you instead of crying. She’s telling you ‘it’s okay’ and ‘daddy loves you’. And you’re thinking what you did to get such a beautiful and inspiring daughter. She even brushes your hair out of your face like you do for her when she’s crying. 

You tell her the same. Her daddy loved her, and that she should tell you how she feels when she’s decided. Anytime Emmy asks about Mark you tell her he’s up in heaven and she frowns. It’s fine, you didn’t expect her to get it this young anyways, but… it’s unfair that she has to.

The past 48 hours have been hectic to say the least, devastating, too. Sam hasn’t left your side during them. Despite him being tall and somewhat scary if you look at it from a four-year-old‘s point of view, your kids have only asked a couple of questions. You don’t think they noticed that he went from ‘police’ to ‘mommy’s friend’, and you’re grateful. 

Gen ran over to your house the second you called her to tell her what you know. You don’t get into detail, just that Mark’s gone. He’s— God, you can’t even say it, he passed away. What kind of shit term is that anyway? Passed? To where, heaven? Hell? How are you supposed to know? 

Does Sam know? If Sam told you angels are real it must be because he’s met them… right? And he met the archangels, surely he has connections— what are you saying! You’re talking about Sam having connections with God? Who, by the way, Sam didn’t mention.

Gen holds you as you sob into her arms in your own room, Sam sitting with your children. They’re so innocent and fragile, you don’t want them to see you crying incase they think they have to, but the truth is, you’re severely dehydrated and you’re sure you’re losing your job at the hospital since you haven’t called to say you’re not coming in. 

It’s a gut-wrenching 48 hours. Who knows what the next will bring.

When you sober up from the frenzy you’re in, you call your parents, then Mark’s siblings. His father died years ago and his mother has amnesia so that’s one less conversation you have to go through.

You only call his second oldest sister, she cries before you finish your sentence and promises she’ll tell the others. You can’t. You know you can’t. 

Gen tries to talk to you about Sam, you shut her down pretty quick. “Can you take the kids during the funeral?” 

“Sweetie, I should come with you…” You shrug just as Sam makes his way to the kitchen where you’re both talking. Gen shoots him daggers as he walks over to you, hand on both your shoulders. “What—”

“The kids are asleep, I think. Dean needs me back at the motel so I’ll go check on him then come back, does that sound okay?” You nod absentmindedly. All you heard was that Sam’s leaving, and even if every part of your body doesn’t want that, he’s been your rock through all of this, you know you have to let him go. 

“Okay, I’ll see you in an hour.” He places a kiss on your hair that helps you relax, like most of his touches do, and when he leaves the kitchen, Gen is right on his heel.

You hear them raise their voice and argue before he leaves. All you can think is that you hope the kids don’t wake up.

You hope you wake up from this nightmare.

Who decided black was a good color for funerals? It’s so… depressing. As if you all aren’t already dispiriting the entire house with your tears, now you’re all blending in with the kitchen supplies too. 

You hold his sisters the most, or they hold you, either way there’s some type of holding going on and it’s therapeutic for both of you. The oldest looks like she hasn’t stopped sobbing since yesterday. Since you told them all about it.

The police announced that he’s dead when you went to check again, and said there was a serial killer on the loose, the same guy who killed Carla, and they found a body in one of the warehouses. Which is total bullshit because demons wouldn’t throw a body in a warehouse, they’d probably… take it to hell?

Sam told you that it’s him, since you didn’t want to confirm it yourself, and you told his family that you were the one who confirmed it. You’re not sure how much of a bad person that makes you since none of them offered to check for you instead. 

Sam stayed with the kids in Gen’s house with her kid so maybe they did figure something out when they were screaming at each other, not that you care. You trust Sam. 

He’s the only person you trust.

There’s soft music thrumming out the speakers, though you lower the sound so people in the house can talk. One of the siblings brings their mother and you break down at the sight of her. She knows she has kids, she knows Mark, hell, she talks about him all the time. But more than that she loves you. His parents loved you the most out of their in-laws and while it created a rift in the family, it never did anything but humble you. You loved his dad, you were the first to get to his house when you heard what happened.

But seeing his mum— that you couldn’t take. 

It’s a few hours before they decide to leave. His brothers, both of them, come up to you asking about burying the casket. They’re doing it right next to his other brother and father. It’s family ground, or whatever it’s called.

You tell them you haven’t made any arrangements. They tell you not to worry. You hug both of them even if they did nothing to ease your concerns, at least that’s one less responsibility.

Gen holds your hand as you pace from the kitchen to the living room. There are kids, his family's kids, his friend’s kids, they’re all walking around, and you shouldn’t feel like this, you know that, but you can’t help the apprehensive emotions circling your heart and squeezing tight. 

The brothers leave to make the arrangements and everyone who isn’t immediate family has said their prayers and goodbyes. You’re all alone. Not that alone considering he has seven sisters and each one of them has at least three kids (one of them actually has 5 kids and two grandkids), but alone enough that none of you feel like you should socialize. Everyone’s in their own circle, you’re lying your head on Gen’s chest, hoping this horror show will end if you just close your eyes. Maybe you’ll hear his voice again, but it doesn’t happen. 

Except you hear his voice with every breath you take saying you’re the one who killed him. You’re the one who murdered your husband.

One Week After

“Jess, I swear to God, if you’re not done with your spelling homework—”

“She’s done.” You hear Sam’s voice get closer as he enters the kitchen and you nod softly at him. He frowns at you.

And you know why. 

“I helped her finish it.” He continues, walking up to you to greet you with a kiss to your head, but it’s not genuine. As much as Sam tries, his movements are all strained and it’s your fault. You haven’t stopped wearing black. 

“When did you come in?” You leave your door open most of the time in case one of his sisters comes to check up on you, or… or if Sam does. It gives his sisters comfort that you’re leaving your house open for them. The brothers haven’t spoken to you much since the funeral, but you know they’re grieving. Mark’s older brother lost his daughter and his brother in the span of a year. 

“Just a few minutes ago. Are you cooking?” You nod, looking away to check on the pasta. It’s a simple dinner, most of them have been since last week. You finally called the hospital yesterday and just as you were about to get a lecture from your attending, you told her what happened. She gave you an extra week off and you couldn’t reject it if you wanted to. 

“Pasta and Chicken tenders— it’s stupidly basic. I used to make it when we first got married, you know,” you let out a small humorless laugh, “and he hated me for it. Told me he’s a man and that he would starve if that’s what I thought food was. I learned how to make every dish his mother knew right then and there.”

Sam chuckles at your memory and it gives you a warm fuzzy feeling that you wish you could push away. These feelings aren’t supposed to be for Sam. You suppose in a way they aren’t. A pet of them, the majority, belong to the story, the fondness behind it. Imagining him sitting on the sofa of your old house scolding you half-playfully about the importance of meals the second week of your marriage.

“So why’d you come over?” He shrugs, sits down on the chair in front of the counter that’s facing you. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner. Emmy already likes you. I don’t know about Jess.”

“Right. She’s a hard one to open up.” You smile at the description of your daughter, because it’s the truest thing you’ve heard. With the mention of that— maybe it’s time to address the elephant in the room.

You spin back, hands clasped together and you spit it out, “I didn’t see you at Jess’s funeral.”

His face drops, which makes your stomach drop but whatever. You have to talk about this. He probably has as many questions as you do, since you’re not aware of anyone keeping in contact with Sam.

“I didn’t attend. It was hard for me.” You furrow your eyebrows, unclasping your hands to fold them against your chest. “I mean… I didn’t talk to anyone after Stanford. I mourned. ‘Just didn’t see a point in showing up.” That’s a shitty excuse. And you hope he knows it too because you looked for him.

You searched for Sam at that funeral, you even asked about him when a few students came. God, even Brady came. How fucked up is it that Brady showed up and not her best friend. “Did you even keep in contact with Jess when you left?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

No. You were heartbroken when you and Sam split up. “We didn't really bring you up.”

“Right. We did, for a couple of years, but I moved around a lot and I got a new phone every few months. Eventually she got a kid and we just lost contact.”

“What about when you… you know, got convicted and stuff.” 

“I— not exactly, you know what Dean and I do, we’re trying to help people, but we can’t just walk around telling them we think there’s a vampire in the neighborhood. FBI, police officers, they trust those people.” You nod. It’s still not an answer. He notices. “Yeah, she still talked to me after, I’m not sure she even knew. I mean, you had to really be up to date with the news to hear our names.”

“No, you just had to live in Lawrence and give two shits about your surroundings. We’d be lucky if Jess even opened her phone to check for something productive, ‘s probably why she never found out. Gen got scared when Jess died, really paranoid for Rue, so she took it upon herself to stay informed. Your name came up a time or two.”

He sighs, scrubs his hand down his face and gives you his back to rest his elbows on the counter. You don’t mind, liking the silence as you stir this, taste that. Cooking’s been an excellent distraction for life lately. Even if it’s the most basic thing to exist.

Sam ends up staying for dinner but Jess stares at him with questions as she sticks to your side. She also has the biggest look of betrayal when Emmy asks him to hold her. She enjoys how tall he is and he doesn’t seem to mind it. By bedtime, you decide to talk to Jess about him.

“Why don’t you like Sam?”

“He’s a giant, and he made daddy sad.” 

Oh. “When he was here with the other police?”

She nods.

“He didn’t make daddy sad, sweetheart, he asked about Carla.” Who is also in heaven. Seems like they have a couple of slots open.

You speak to her a little more, about Sam, about school tomorrow, about daddy and how she misses him, you miss him too. He probably misses you two the most. You kiss her head before shutting the lights off and running downstairs to wish Sam a goodnight.

Until you notice him half asleep on your couch, his head resting on his own shoulder in a way that could never look comfortable. You bite your lip in anxiety. 

On one hand, you care for Sam and you don’t want him to drive tired. On the other, what if someone sees him spending the night?

What if one of Mark’s sisters comes unannounced? 

You decide to suck it up and be a good person, patting him lightly. “Sam, Sam,” he suddenly sits up straighter, slightly disoriented, “C’mon, let’s get you on a bed.” 

He pouts his lips like has more to say but ends up listening to you anyways. Halfway up the stairs he remembers his manners. “Oh. Oh, no, no—”

“You’re already halfway up the stairs, let’s just go.”

“I won’t intrude, I’ll just get back to the motel, I don’t know why I crashed like that.” You put a hand on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes intensely to give your best ‘no bullshit’ look.

“Sam Winchester, if I have to convince you not to drive half asleep, I will force feed you sleeping pills. Got it?” He lets out a laugh before pulling you in a hug. And he’s one step below you so your head fits perfectly in as you tuck it in his neck.

“Thank you.” You shouldn’t cry again. It’s already been one hell of a week without adding non-Mark related crying. You shouldn’t. But you cry yourself to sleep anyways. 

Two Weeks After 

“So, how have you been holding up?” You look up from the papers you’re filling to your co-worker. One of the interns that started the same time as you. You’ve gotten quite close with Sage, he’s been a great friend, no matter how little you both talk.

“‘M okay. Thank you for asking.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You smile tightly before nodding and giving the papers to the nurse. 

“Thank you.” You walk away but he follows after you, considering you’re both heading to the same destination, the parking lot. Your first shift back finally  in over a week you couldn’t be more grateful.

“Do you want a ride home? I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral.” 

“No, thank you.” He’s being polite, you know that, but you’re not going to act the part of the widower. You’re fine. Your head’s still above water as much as anyone’s concerned. (Except Sam and Gen.)

Three Weeks After

Your mother is calling again. She won’t stop calling, and you can’t keep canceling. “Good morning, mum.”

There’s no one in the entire world that you love more than your mother. She’s your soulmate, she’s your best friend, she’s your biggest supporter. She’s everything you need and want in a person. She’s the only person who pulled you back from sinking when Jess died.

“Morning, baby girl. How are you?”

“I’m good, how about you and dad?”

She laughs as your father greets you, asking you where you’ve been. That you should call more often. That they’re there for you.

Yeah, that’s the problem.

Five Weeks After

“You’re… self-sabotaging. You don’t want to be happy, you don’t want to be okay.” The second the words leave Sam’s mouth, you try to kick him out with yelling. When that doesn’t work, you hit his chest with your fists, when that does nothing but make him barely stumble, you push  yourselves onto him in an attempt to throw him off his balance, instead he holds you as you cry.

What does he know? You’re grieving! You’re mourning. You miss him every single day and second and when his siblings gave you his inheritance you broke down so hard they were scared they’ll have to bring you to a hospital. 

He’s right. You’re going through the motions. Your kids ask you why they don’t go to the park on Friday. Your co-workers are worried for you. Gen cooks for you as much as she can. You killed him. You’re not— are you? You are.

“I don’t— want to. I don’t…” he shushes you, with reassuring ‘i know’ and ‘don’t worry, sweetheart’. When you’re calm enough to speak, you apologize for his tear-drenched shirt. And he gives you numbers for different therapists.

Later that week you tell Sam you won’t be doing therapy, but if he wants to help you, you’ll try. He says it’s enough compromise and he gives you a list of things to do. 

Make food that’s actually food. Work extra hours (you’ve been going under your normal hours the past three weeks). Friday park dates for the kids. Saturday lunch dates for you and Gen. 

Seven Weeks After 

You start wearing blue. Your favorite dress with small white flowers on it. You like how you look and it forces you to shave everything you’ve been neglecting lately. 

It’s time for you and Gen’s lunch date when you get a call from Sam. “I’m outside.”

You tell him you’ll be right down, spraying on perfume before running down to get your kids. “Hey, Jess, Emmy.” You capture their attention and they put down the iPad to stare at you. Maybe it’s your dress. “Sammy’s outside.” It’s the nickname Emmy’s given him and it makes your heart absolutely melt. “He’s going to drive you.” 

On your lunch dates you opt to leave your kids with your sister-in-law, the one you're closest to, anyways. She’s the youngest brother’s wife. But you’re running late and Sam offered to drive them himself. You’ve never left your kids alone with Sam anywhere other than in your house, where they’re comfortable. 

His car… It's worrying. 

You trust Sam completely and he’s been by your side every day for the past seven weeks but these are your children there’s just no way you’d neglect their feelings like that. But he convinced you that he’ll let them call you the entire time so they’re relaxed and you agreed.

You started locking your door.

Six Months After

“When’s Sammy coming?” You shrug, plating the Mac n’ cheese Jess requested. Today, Emmy is two whole years old.

It’s the first birthday you’re celebrating without Mark. And Sam offered to bring Gen and keep you both company. You’re still close to his family, you’re there once a week, if you can, but you’re slowly falling back to your routine, so you’re about to limit it to once every two weeks. The way Mark liked it.

The way you like it.

You’re picking up more shifts and making more elaborate dishes. One of your attendings told you if you keep putting in the work, he’s thinking of taking you in Cardiovascular. Your first choice would’ve been OBG-YN but if Cardio is what you’re the best in, you’ll take it.

Once all three of you are done and putting your plates away, the doorbell rings and you smile when Emmy runs over. You keep an eye on her as she waits for Jess to open the door. Sam and Gen are loud as they enter your house, hugging the kids. Sam picks Emmy up, teasing her about being two as they make it to the kitchen.

You lean in to hug Gen. Then Sam greets you like he always does, a kiss to your head. Emmy, being the adorable two year old, drops her face to do the same and Sam has to bring her back up with a smile to both your faces.

“Mommy they got velvet! My favorite!” Jess squeals, peeking at the cake and you look at both of your friends with a grateful look. 

Mark’s inheritance wasn’t even split upon you and anyone else, it’s all for you. And you’d been saving for a while too, so you’re set. Including your work, it’s going great, but they still insisted on being the ones to bring the cake. 

“Okay, we watch frozen first then cake, right, baby girl?” Sam asks Emmy and she smiles, hollering  in excitement. He puts her down so she, Gen and Jess can all go put the movie on, he holds you in place. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. Thank you for doing this, you really didn’t have to.” He shakes his head, taking a step closer to you, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face. And it’s weird that you know exactly what that means. “I’m better, I guess. Jess and Emmy still talk about him and— I made Mac n’ cheese today— but only because Jess wanted to—”

“Sweetheart, cooking was never about making it big, it was about what made you happy. And you’re happier when you make a big meal, I want you to feel that happiness again.” Maybe. Whatever. You still failed today, but it’s fine. “You did amazing today.” He tilts your chin up and you're forced to focus on his hazel-green eyes, “I’m proud of you. And you look beautiful.” He gestures to the pink top you have on, intricate lace design at your chest then it’s silk down till you tuck it into your jeans. 

A little dressing up was in order if you’re having a mini party. Even your kids and Rue are all in dresses. 

Sam walks you out to the couch, settles in next to you on one side and Jess on your other. Emmy alternated between all three of your laps.

Maybe you did amazing today.

One Year After

You call your mum as you practically bounce off the walls of your house, biting your lip so you don’t squeal like a five year old (no offense to Jess). 

“Mommy?” You jump the second she answers, “I got a job with Doctor Mendez!” And because you speak to her at least four times a week about him, she’s aware of who he is, the Cardiovascular Attending at your hospital. The one who’s due to retire any day now and is looking for a replacement. While he didn’t say it exactly, you’re the only student he picked to teach!

“Really? Oh, that’s wonderful, honey. Oh my God!” You gush over the entire thing to her in a phone call that lasts a little over an hour. Your dad congratulates you too and you run to pick up Jess from football practice so you can tell her too. 

She hugs you, although she doesn’t seem to care, and tells you all about her new coach. 

You pick up Emmy from the nursery and one of the moms with a son who’s taking an internship at your hospital congratulates you.

For some reason, you break down the second you’re home. “Thank you for— not hating me.” You smile through tears. “I don’t think I would’ve even cared to get this far if I thought you hated me. I love you, Mark, I love you so much and I can’t wait to see you and tell you everything.” 

But for once while you’re talking to him, they’re not hostile tears or sorrowful. You’re content. 

And not to some extent either. You’re fully content. 

Especially when Sam knocks on your door. Your Saturday dinner with him and Gen is tomorrow and you mentioned that you need new clothes to which he decided to make a day of it. Jess decides she wants to hang out with Rue and Emmy follows her sister wherever she goes. 

You dust yourself off and open the door. You don’t expect this many emotions when you see him. But they’re there. And they’re really really there.

“Hey.” He smiles, walking in. “Are the girls ready? I parked in the driveway but if they’re gonna take a while I can park it—”

“Why are you still here?” You see his face drop before you scramble to correct yourself, “I meant, you kept saying you move a lot and with Dean, hunting, whatever— but you’re here. It’s been a year and you’re still living in a motel, Sam.”

“I’ve actually, uh, bought an apartment. A while ago.” You can hear your heartbeat In your ears, “It seemed cheaper to just rent an apartment since… since I’m living here.”

“You’re living here— since when? What about Dean?”

“He’s settling down, too. Cicero, he’s living with his girlfriend and her kid.” You’re not supposed to cry again. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? I’ll stop coming over if you—”

“No,” you smile, “no, that’s just. I’m so happy for Dean, he deserves it, you know? Sam, look, I don’t know him well, I barely knew you before you both showed up as cops on my doorstep, but you’re not the same men that I hung out with in Stanford, you guys look so— and I mean this in the most loving way possible— exhausted. I wanted to ask, but it never seems like the time, you know? Just know I want to know about everything. Anything you want to tell me, I want to know. You mean a lot more to me than I ever let on.”

Sam’s eyes are watery but you don’t think you’ve ever seen the man cry and he doesn’t start today, but he does bring you in for a kiss that you don’t expect. He’s slow as he brings you in, like he’s reassuring you you can pull away at any moment, but you don’t.

You let it consume you. You move in, standing taller with your hands on his biceps. It’s a strong hold, like you’re scared he’ll disappear, and maybe he will, who knows? 

It won’t stop you. 

Because losing people is the way of the universe and not getting close won’t stop Sam from leaving, it won’t stop your kids from hating you, and it won’t stop your friends from moving away. 

And maybe it took you a damn long time to get there, but you’re not stupid enough to keep repeating the cycle at twenty eight, especially not with Sam. Never with Sam.

You just hope Mark’s proud of you. You hope he supports you. Because he pushed you here. He’s the only reason you’re able to stand tall and put yourself out there, his love, his worry for you, it changed you.

Or maybe he’s half the reason, you’re pretty strong yourself.

End.

this was super new to me in terms of I did coloring??? on the pics?? look at me beating the non creative allegations (insecurities), and different writing style that I honestly really liked. thank you for reading if you've made it this far.

tag list:

@angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats 

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403 @wattpaduser200 @s0urw00lf @ashlynyyyyy

@strabarrybat @anu-piyakya97 @tranquilitybasegrunge @consistentreader578

[peaches2217]

So, uh… tonight was cathartic as hell. Remember how I was raised in a church that became a cult and how it’s left me with thirteen metric tons of religious trauma, which I’ve only recently been able to start working through?

Tonight, I did something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time: I went back one last time to say goodbye.

We had a Blue Christmas service this evening at my church. I planned to attend just because it seemed like it would be peaceful, but it ended up opening my eyes to a loooooot of pain and grief I’m still holding onto. Today was the church I was raised in’s annual candlelight communion service in honor of Christmas. My whole family was there, except for me. I invited them to the Blue Christmas service and our own candlelight communion this coming Tuesday, and they rejected the offers, just as they’ve rejected every other invitation I’ve extended to them. My dad always said he wanted nothing more than for me to seek God with my whole heart, and now I’m finally in a place where I feel safe enough that I can… and it’s driven a wedge between us, because he’s convinced God could never reveal Himself to me so long as I’m openly and unrepentantly trans. This isn’t the first Christmas I haven’t gone to church with him, but it’s the first Christmas I’ve spent in church alone, and I didn’t realize until tonight how heavy my heart is as a result.

I ended up planting myself at the alter and just praying for a good twenty minutes after the service proper ended. There wasn’t any divine revelation, I just gave up all my fears and concerns and sorrows. About halfway through I felt a hand on my shoulder, and it stayed there until I finally got back up. It was one of my pastors, and he prayed with me until I was done; he offered me a hug and told me quietly that “God delights in you,” and that, no matter what I face, I won’t have to face it alone; God is always with me, and he and his wife (who’s the head pastor) will always welcome me. Talk about not even knowing what you needed to hear until you hear it. I was choking up. 😆

I sat outside and watched the stars for a bit because I just… didn’t wanna go home. I never do when I’m at church. I felt like there was more that needed to be done or experienced. Ultimately I decided to drive around for a little bit and just let my thoughts run wild. And as luck would have it, the path I chose took me past the church I was raised in… which was completely abandoned. They usually have evening service, but since it’s the last Sunday before Christmas, no service tonight.

I’m not really sure what compelled me to pull in, much less to get out of my car. But I did, and then my feet just started moving, and once I started, I didn’t wanna stop.

I visited as many places as I could without access to the inside of the church and just remembered. “This is the door that led to my dad’s Divorce Care class. I’d always poke my head in on Wednesday nights to see if I could nab some candy from the crystal bowl.” “This is where the swing set used to be. I’d play sick so I could swing instead of having to sit through sermons. Lots of lectures happened here.” “This is the AC unit I hid behind one of the last times I attended a service here. I hid here and cried and prayed someone would find me there and assure me I wasn’t as alone as I felt. No one did.”

Once I finished circling the outside of the church, I stood on the bridge overlooking the fish pond in front for a bit, because that was one of my favorite places to linger growing up. The rocks, the planks, everything was exactly how I remembered them. Then I waved at the nearest security camera, hopped back in my car, and pulled away. It seems kinda silly recounting it now, but I thanked the church and said “goodbye” out loud, then I was off down the road and I didn’t look back.

I don’t know if this will actually be helpful in the long run or if it truly gave me lasting closure. But for tonight, there’s peace. I’ve said my goodbyes on my own terms, and now I’m moving ahead, and for tonight at least, that’s enough.

(I also got this cool picture of one of the crosses on the side of the church. A cult it may be, but it’s a well-decorated cult. 😂)

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Never Forget

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: This story follows a few bracelets and a promise of siblings

When you were about seven years old, you found a hobby. Bracelet making. It was easy, and you were able to do it on the road; all you needed was a few different colors of string, and you were able to knot it into bracelets.

First you sold some whenever you went to a new town, not for much, but you made enough to use vending machines, and that satisfied seven-year-old you. Eventually, you found other things to occupy your time, and the hobby sort of fell away.

Until one day, Dean told you the story behind the necklace that he always wore, and it gave you an idea.

…

Sam gently tugged on his green bracelet as he drove away from his family. He’d never forget the day you gave it to him, the smile on your face as he put it on, and the way you’d hugged him after he promised to never take it off.

That image was replaced by the memory of you crying as he slammed the front door, of you running down the road after his car as he drove away from his old life.

“I’m sorry,” Sam whispered, “I couldn’t stay. But I’ll never forget you.”

…

Dean fiddled subconsciously with the red bracelet on his wrist, looking desperately for a way out. How had he let the vamp get the jump on him?

He checked his pockets for anything useful, and was surprised when he came up with his cell phone. They’d let him keep it?

He quickly flipped it open, but his instinct to call Sam vanished when he remembered that Sam wouldn’t answer. In fact, the boys hadn’t talked in almost a full year. Dean hoped college was worth that.

He could call John, but he was at a hunt in a different state, it would take too long for him to get here.

Dean glanced around one last time, but found nothing else that could save him. Those vamps would come back, and there were too many for Dean to take alone. Reality began to sink in; Dean was going to die down here.

He looked down at his phone again, and pressed your number. He wouldn’t be able to say goodbye to Sam or dad; either of them would just argue, tell him he was gonna be fine, that they were coming to save him, if they even answered at all. But you, you would listen. And if Dean was going to die, he wanted his last words to be heard.

“Dean?” Your voice sounded groggy, and Dean wondered what time it was. “Dean where are you? I thought you’d be back by now.”

“Hey baby,” Dean breathed, surprised at the sudden tears that came to his eyes. “I’m really sorry, but I-“ he froze. Was that what he thought it was?

“Dean? You still there?”

“Yeah,” Dean grinned. “Yeah, I’m here baby.”

“You forget about me?” Your tone was light, joking, and Dean was glad that he hadn’t told you of his dangers.

“Nah kiddo, actually I’m coming home right now.” Dean couldn’t keep the relieved smile off his face as he worked the grate off the wall. It was just big enough to squeeze through.

“I’d never forget you.”

…

“I don’t want you to go.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, just loud enough for Dean to hear as he hugged you tightly.

“I don’t wanna go either, baby,” Dean couldn’t keep the tears at bay when he heard you begin to sob into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why did you have to make that deal?”

Dean didn’t bother answering. You knew the answer; he did it for Sammy.

“Sammy’s gonna take care of you now, ok?” Dean couldn’t find it in him to let you go, not even enough to look at you.

“I want you.”

“Hey,” Dean finally pulled away, still holding onto you, but just enough to look into your eyes. “You’re always gonna have me, ok?”

You reached up to touch his face, and he took hold of your wrist, tugging on the purple bracelet hanging there.

“You made these so that even when we’re apart, we’ve always got a piece of each other.” Dean placed a gentle kiss on your wrist, right where the band was. “This is your piece of me, ok? You’re always gonna have me with you, I promise.”

“It’s not the same,” you cried, leaning forward to lean against Dean’s shoulder again.

“I know, I know baby,” Dean cradled the back of your head. “And I’m gonna miss you so much. But at least this way, you’ll never forget me, alright?”

“I’ll never forget you,” you repeated his words like a promise, a promise that he felt compelled to echo.

“Never forget.”

[xoxotria]

CRAWLING BACK | y.jh

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

themes: ex lovers

warnings: angst?

note: heavily inspired by hozier’s cover of arctic monkey’s song ‘do i wanna know’

it had been two years since jeonghan last saw her. two years since they shattered everything they had built together—their own little paradise. now, they stood in the same small town, where it all began, but the air between them was colder than the winter night that wrapped around the streets.

jeonghan hadn’t planned on visiting. a close friend had died and seungkwan had called him to inform him about the funeral service. the death was unexpected but nevertheless he went. but when he stepped into the dimly lit bar, memories flooded back like a tide. there she was, standing on the stage, her back to him, microphone in hand. the first notes of do i wanna know? rang through the speakers, and his heart stuttered in his chest.

she was singing, and it was as if the years apart had never happened. her voice—raw, aching—cut through him, each lyric a dagger, each note a cry he couldn’t ignore. his chest tightened as she sang about secrets, doubts, and things left unsaid.

he had always been the one to run, to leave things unfinished. she was the one who stayed, who tried to hold onto something that had long since slipped through his fingers. and now, watching her sing that song, he realized how much he had lost.

when the song ended, she turned. her eyes met his—cold, guarded, but still familiar. the air between them seemed to crackle, thick with tension and history.

“you came,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

jeonghan didn’t know what to say. what could he say? two years of silence, two years of trying to bury the past, and now they were standing here, face to face.

“i didn’t think you’d still be here,” he muttered, his words betraying him.

she tilted her head, eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. “i didn’t think you’d ever come back to this town.”

her words stung more than he cared to admit. he deserved it, though. he had left her without a second thought, convinced that the distance between them was for the best. but seeing her again, hearing her sing that song, he wasn’t so sure.

“i…” jeonghan started, but the words tangled in his throat. he had rehearsed them a thousand times in his mind, but now that she was here, in front of him, they felt hollow.

she took a step closer, her voice soft but firm. “do you even want to know, jeonghan? do you want to know if it was worth it? if the pain was worth it?”

his stomach twisted. “i don’t know,” he admitted, voice barely audible.

for a moment his eyes locked with hers. she looked into his eyes as if searching for a hint of any lie coming out of his mouth. she seemed to have been thinking about saying something before she took a step back.

she looked away, taking a deep breath. “then maybe we shouldn’t keep doing this jeonghan. maybe it’s better if we just both walk away.”

her words hit him like a punch, and he felt the weight of all the years they had wasted, all the love they had destroyed. she was right. he had no answers. and perhaps, that was all they would ever be—two people who once loved each other but couldn’t figure out how to fix what they broke.

“but would it really be better? to walk away?” he asked.

she shrugged. “i guess we’ll find out. goodbye, jeonghan.”

she turned back to the stage, and the music began to play again, a soft hum in the background. jeonghan stayed rooted in place, his heart pounding. he watched her for a moment longer before walking away, the sound of her voice trailing behind him, the question unanswered, hanging in the air.

do i want to know?

[holdmytesseract]

hello!! i saw you were looking for steamy stuff with daryl and was thinking about leaving him some steamy pictures with a polaroid, maybe they slip it to him at the worst time and he gets flustered and embarrasses himself or stick with steamy and he decides he wants to take his own pictures of them 😏

anyway, i hope you have a lovely day/evening 🥰

Sinful Distraction

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: You decide to leave a little surprise for Daryl. A little sinful distraction while he's away.

Warnings: umm... mentions of naughty photos? tiny bit spicy, fluff?

Set in Season 9!

Word Count: 1,2k

a/n: Thanks for the request, nonny! 😁 I loved it, hehe. Hopefully you like what I wrote! 🧡

Tagging: @km-ffluv @stitchintimefan @sweetpeapod @loz-3 @peaches1958 @fictive-sl0th @lou12346789 @bookofsecretjourneys @azanoni @fuseburner @hotgirlsshareaccounts @in-this-minute

Masterlist

A cheeky smile danced across your lips as you put the Polaroid you coincidentally found on the last run back in its hiding place, before you sat down on the bed and admired the pictures you just took. You bit your lip. They were perfect - and hopefully able to distract Daryl just a tiny bit.

Your man was going out for a few days, probably a week, helping Rick out, of course, to build the bridge, and you decided to not let him leave without a little... surprise. A gift, rather. He just had to find it. You'd hide the pictures in the back pocket of his baggy jeans, hoping that he'd need the red rug he always carried with him in that pocket. A perfect plan, wasn't it? You bit your lip, smirking; proud that you had this idea.

"Y/N?" Daryl's voice echoed down the stairs towards the basement you and Daryl called home. Hastily, you hid the pictures in your pocket, thinking he was coming downstairs. "I'm here! Yeah?!" He wasn't. "We are goin' in a bit! Thought ya might wanna come up and say goodbye?!" "You can bet your butt on this! I'm coming, baby!" You heard Daryl snort out a laugh. "Thought ya need my butt?! Ain't got nothin' to hold on when it's gone!" You couldn't prevent a rather loud giggle leaving your lips. You loved when Daryl once in a while got all humorous and sassy. He had such a dry sense of humour - and you loved it. "Well... Point for you, hon!" "I'll be outside!" You could hear the amusement in his voice. He was definitely smiling. You took a last look at the pictures, before you hid them again and quickly made your way up the stairs and out of the house. Daryl sat on the stairs on the porch, clearly waiting for you. As soon as he heard the door close shut, the archer stood up and turned around, facing you. "Ready?" He asked. You knew exactly what he meant. He asked it every time, just like you gave him the same answer - every time. "I'll never be ready to be separated from you." Daryl bit the inside of his lip - a habit you loved so much. "I know. 'M sorry. I hate leavin' ya, 's just..." "You have to, I know." You nodded, smiling and stepped with him down the stairs. When you and him hit solid ground again, you immediately reached for him; took his big hands into yours. "It's okay. It's who you are and what you do. I-I mean, I would've accompanied you, but Michonne needs me here a-and..." Now Daryl was the one who nodded, giving you a soft smile. "She does," he said. "Alexandria does." You smiled at him as well, touched by the utter sweetness of this man.

Daryl squeezed your intertwined hand and looked from side to side, checking his surroundings and making sure nobody was looking, before he dipped his head in order to give you a sweet kiss. Showing affection in public was still something he had to get used to, but you didn't complain, gave him all the time he needed. You leaned in the kiss, of course, trying to make it last as long as possible; even letting go of his hands, in order to wrap them around his neck. You were successful, keeping the archer's lips locked onto yours for a little while longer, before he withdrew, blushing ever so softly. He is so cute, you thought, suppressing an upcoming giggle. Then you suddenly remembered the pictures, which were still in the pocket of your jeans. That had to change, of course. So, you scanned the street again, pulling Daryl in another kiss and catching him quite a bit by surprise. Now that he was distracted by your lips on his, you reached for the pictures in your pocket, wrapping your arms around your man's broad torso, lowered your palms on his ass and finally managed to slip the cargo in his back pocket.

Daryl jumped at your sudden bold, intimate move and ended the kiss, looking at you with slightly widened eyes and an even darker shape of red on his cheeks. "What ya doin', woman?!" You giggled, remembering the conversation you had earlier with him. "Makin' sure it's still there. Testin' if I can still hold onto it, ya know." You said and winked, causing him to playfully roll his eyes.

After saying once again thoroughly goodbye to Daryl and the others who accompanied him, you retreated back to the little basement apartment you shared with the archer; hoping that your mischievous, cheeky plan was going to be successful.

After travelling to the bridge, alongside Aaron, Rick and Carol, Daryl went immediately to work. After all, the bridge didn't build itself. The archer didn't quite like to work with the Saviors. Former enemies, now turned allies, but he didn't have a choice, did he? They needed every help they could get. It was a big task and couldn't be done just by Alexandrians. Working in the heat of the summer wasn't exactly great as well, but that was also a thing which couldn't be changed.

It took Daryl almost two days to find the surprise you had hid for him but eventually, he found it...

"Daryl?" The archer lifted his head, looking up to face Aaron, who stood a few meters away from him. "Yeah?" "Have you got a rug or something with you?" Daryl nodded, sat back on his heels and reached for the familiar red rug in the back pocket of his jeans - only to find something what definitely didn't feel like his rug. His rug was there, too, but also something else. He frowned, but took the rug first, throwing it towards Aaron. "Thanks!" Daryl gave his friend a nod, before standing up and reaching for the other items in his pocket - which he had identified as Polaroid pictures, but the man didn't have a single clue what were on them, of course. When his gaze landed on the three pictures, his heart almost stopped beating for a second, eyes widening. He expected a lot - but not seeing you on them half naked, or well... very scarcely dressed. Goddamnit, woman, he thought, feeling his cheeks literally burn with how hard he was blushing. If he'd have found them in his tent, back at the camp, it wouldn't have been a problem, but out here? In 'public'? With all the men around him? No, he couldn't help himself but go as red as a beetroot. Nevertheless, he also couldn't help himself, but to skip through the pictures. The temptation was just too big. Just because he was slightly embarrassed, didn't mean that he didn't like what he saw... Quite the opposite. Daryl rather had to fight against the upcoming issue in his pants... On the backside of the last picture was something written on it, like he noticed. 'Thought you might need a bit distraction some time... ;)' Naughty girl, the archer thought, shaking his head. "Jus' ya wait 'til I get home..." He muttered under his breath. Revenge was sweet, after all, wasn't it?

[uselesssomebody]

𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 - jake lockley x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | moon knight masterlist

words || 𝟚𝕜

moon knight spring '24 bingo prompt + progress || 'bruise'

summary || in which jake gets a little jealous

a/n || so excited to be part of this event by @moonknight-events, my board looks so fun! check out their blog for a shit ton of other moon knight content by a bunch of other creators!

➵ ask if you wanna be added to a taglist

➵ heed the warnings in said masterlist, this series is 18+, and inherently dark

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smutty, but no sex

jake didn't take fares between 5 to 6 p.m.

he'd postpone his break so late, just to ensure he was always on time to pick her up from work. it annoyed him enough that he couldn't also drop her off, but the smattering of kisses that she'd pepper over his nose and lips before he left early for work made up for some - not all - of the worried thoughts he had of her commuting to work on her crowded subway train.

she finished work everyday at 5:00 on the dot, not hesitating with goodbyes and salutations, knowing who was waiting outside her building, just for her.

he stood outside his cab, hand on the passenger door handle to let her when as she usually bounded out of work, a beam on her face when she saw him. he checked the time, a cigarette almost half-smoked between his bare fingers - he wasn't getting his leather gloves ashy.

5:15.

what was taking her so long?

he hated having to wait for his girl: seeing her face after driving around the city - a somewhat lonely profession - was the best part of his day.

he slumped his shoulders, leaning against the car door, as he peered over the dark, but lively street. it was a row of offices, and other people were also clocking out. bored, he watched the gray cloud of smoke from his mouth, trying to distinguish it from the puffs of his warm breath showing up in the chilly air.

5:20.

5:25.

5:30.

he was starting to get concerned.

finally, after an eternity of waiting - see: 35 minutes - his face relaxes when he sees her hurriedly walking out of her work. immediately after, his brow furrows, at the sight of the man following behind her, a big, stupid smile on his face, mouth moving a mile a minute.

she looks up, noticing jake, and her face breaks into a look of pure relief, finally, a pep in her step as she nears her boyfriend. before she can greet him though, the guy behind her grabs her shoulder, whipping her back around.

jake's eyes widen at the little fucker's audacity.

he's saying some bullshit, holding onto her shoulder so can't turn back to jake, and the steam coming out of his ears leads him to only hear:

"... come out for a drink with me... really pretty... love to take you out-"

it's more than enough.

he calls her name, voice stern, but not to her. never to her. she whipped her head around, not turning as she mumbles a weak goodbye to the man, finally completing the short distance to jake.

she kisses his cheek quickly in greeting,before waiting for him to open the door, but he pulls her a little closer by the waist, pressing her body against his.

"let me kiss you properly, mi amor. i haven't seen you all day." her cheeks heat. he literally never does this, waiting to properly express his love after they got home.

"he's still looking?" she guesses, and his lips quirk in a smile, as he presses his lips to her soft, slightly parted ones, revelling in how she sinks into the comfort of his warmth.

"like a kicked puppy." he murmurs into her lips, and she giggles, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before pulling away.

"baby, open the door, i'm cold." she whines, and jake obliges her, pulling open the car door so she can sit back against the warm interior and crisp leather that he worked hard to maintain.

she only spares a glance at the other man. he's looking away.

"so, who was that?"

it had taken a couple hours, as well as the both of them reclining to the warmth of the couch - takeout clutched in their hands and a sitcom on the t.v. - for jake to finally ask the question nagging at the back of his mind.

she groans softly, hoping he'd forgotten. a silly wish.

"no one, jake." she murmurs quickly, to his immediate dissatisfaction.

"nuh-uh, amor, you have to give me more than that. he put his hands on you!" he said it like it was some inexcusable crime, and it made her giggle.

"he's just..." she sighs, chewing on her bite, "he's the new guy, y'know?" jake's eyes narrow.

"how long has he-"

"don't ask." she interrupts, knowing he'll be more upset if he found out the new guy's antics had occurred before. jake scowls, and she rolls her eyes, turning in the couch to better face him.

"jake~" she says his name softly, in a sing-song voice, prying the food from his hands and placing them on the coffee table. she cups his cheeks, running her fingers over his hair - messed up by that flat cap he always wore - and the little stubble on his face that he'd begun growing out when she professed she wanted to see him with a beard. she climbs slowly into his lap, guiding his arms to rest on the curve of her hips, "jake?" she finally asks again, as she's settled in.

"yes, mi amor?" his voice is gruff, as he lazily looks up at her. he's not shocked by her movements, happy to have her so close, but is still evidently stingy about the new guy.

"remind me, who did i go home with today?" she asks, rhetorically. jake rolls his eyes as he looks up at her.

"me, amor, but-"

"and who am i most excited to see whenever i leave work?"

"also me, but-"

"and who is the only person who gets to touch every part of me?" her voice drops to a whisper, guiding his warm fingertips under her shirt, to the skin of her midriff.

"me." he breathes out.

"you...?" she prompts.

"only me." satisfied with his answer, she leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips, cupping his scratchy cheeks, and giggling she he squeezes her hips.

"and who do i love?" she whispers, when she breaks away for air.

"i hate when you talk to me like a child." he chides, changing the subject, and it makes her giggle.

"wrong answer, try again." he raises a brow of challenge, before pulling her closer, and then standing up, his palms splayed under and cupping her thighs so he could carry her into their bedroom. she squeaks in shock, clinging onto him, "what're you doing?!"

"showing you why you love me."

falling unceremoniously on the bed, she lets out a small 'oof!', but its cut short by the way his mouth captures hers in a hungry kiss.

"someone's needy," she teases, when he breaks away, but it's cut off my a small moan, as his tongue travels down the length of her jaw, to her neck.

"i'll beat the shit out of him if he touches you again." jake grumbles into her skin.

"are you kidding? he obviously knows i have a boyfriend, he's leaving me alone." jake's head emerges from where he's kissing at her neck.

"hmm..." he looks contemplative, "maybe... he could do with a little reminder."

she's unsure what he's planning, but his devilish grin tips her off that it's going to be an idea she might chastise him for. indeed, it is.

his head sinks back down. finding the flesh of her neck, and rolling it gently between his teeth, before clamping a little harder, and sucking. so enamored by the sensation of the slight pain laved by the tingles of his warm tongue, she doesn't realize what he's doing for a moment.

"jake!" she squeaks when she realizes, "you can't - can't mark me!" his laugh is gruff against her skin.

"why not?" without waiting for an answer, his teeth nip at the skin under her collarbone. she gasps at the feeling, trying to tug at his hair to dissuade him - to no avail.

"oh, baby, it's such a pain in the ass to cover them-"

"then don't." the curt response renders her speechless for a moment, enough time for his teeth to sink into the flesh of her shoulder.

"you want him to see..." he laughs.

"that sure took you a moment, amor." seeing as she doesn't meaningfully try to stop him, he continues his work, teeth sinking into as much of the expanse of her neck and chest as he could reach.

they're blue and purple the next morning. she looked like she'd been attacked by something. her eyes quite literally bugged out of her head at the sight.

groaning, she reaches for her makeup bag. jake peeks his head into the bathroom, immediately taking the bag from her hands.

"jake-?" her brows furrow in confusion, but she's cut off by how his other arm wraps around her waist, looking at her in the mirror to see all the bruises smattered over her skin. she reaches blindly to take back her makeup, but he evades her hands, "jake, i need to do my makeup!" she whines softly, making her laugh and kiss her cheek.

"you're gonna cover them up." she scoffs.

"of course i'm gonna cover them up, i look like i was in an mma fight with a raccoon!" he shakes his head.

"no, you look like you had fantastic, animalistic sex with your boyfriend." she cringes a little, laughing.

"and why do my poor coworkers have to know that?" he deadpans.

"as long as your newbie knows." he murmurs, a little bitter, as a finger goes to trace the bruises.

"are we seriously still on that?" she turns to face him, kissing his cheek, "i thought i told you he's just annoys me a little." she assures.

"oh, trust me, amor. he won't from now on."

he didn't let her put her makeup on - even for her face, not trusting her to not start covering up those beautiful marks. instead, with the time she saved in between waking up and eating breakfast, he pulled her back to bed, kissing over each and every bruise, as their coffee water heated.

"you know i love you, right, jake?" she murmurs softly into his forehead, kissing his hairline.

"of course, mi amor. i love you, too." 'she's being so sweet, isn't she?' he thinks.

"can you tell me where you hid my makeup bag?" he snorts, shushing her with a kiss to the lips.

"fat chance."

he's waiting outside her work again, squishing his cigarette under the toe of his shoes as he sees her walking out. with no fucking newbie chasing after her.

"how was work?" he asks, as she presses her daily greeting kiss on his cheek.

"good." she answered, a big smile on her face, as he slowly opens the passenger door. before she sits down, though, he gestures to her neck and chest.

"show me." he instructs, and she laughs, pulling off her scarf to show that the bruises were still well-pronounced. it makes him smirk, as he nods appreciatively, sitting down.

as he peels away, he glances at her, noticing her happy attitude.

"so, did newbie bother you? should i say 'i told you so'?" he teases, and it makes her a little embarrassed.

"i... no, he didn't bother me." he grins.

"tell me more, come on."

"he... looked horrified, if i'm being honest." she giggles.

"good." his response was curt, but his smug smile spoke 1000 words. as he stopped at a red light, he leans over to peck her lips.

"so, should i say it?" she smiles, indulging him.

"go on."

"i told you so."