#oh and if it was a car crash that would be DOUBLE good

[jamandjazz]

Guys imagine what would happen if Darry died. Like just imagine the implications for Sodapop and Ponyboy and the way it would affect the gang, especially cause Mr. and Mrs. Curtis just died.

[toytulini]

wheres that post about how its hard to have like a fucking depression spiral or whatever while knitting bc lemme tell u im sitting here fighting back tears while actively crocheting and its not fucking working

[eideticmemory]

DARLING & DANDELION | SPENCER REID

Spencer is a lot of things to you. Your baby daddy, your lover, your best friend, and a massive pain in your ass.

Word Count: 6k.

Warning/Includes: Dad!Spencer, smut, angst, hurt/comfort.

You haven’t even caught your breath yet and you go, “We can’t do this anymore.”

And Spencer’s, whose chest is still heaving up and down, goes, “Wh…what?”

“We can’t do this anymore,” you wipe sweat from your forehead. “It’s tacky.”

Spencer props himself up his elbow and turns his body to face you, “Tacky? What do you mean?”

“Don’t do that. You know what I mean.”

“It’s…I mean…we…it’s healthy.”

“Tuh!” you laugh. “That’s your professional opinion, doctor?”

“Yes. Yes, sex is good for the body and the mind.”

“What if…” you prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’s with your ex, who you can never work it out with, who you have a kid with, on an occasional and convenient basis?”

“From personal experience, it’s the best sex you can ever have,” he finishes his sentence with a devilish smile and you roll your eyes, poke your tongue out at him.

You shake your head, “I have to go. You have to go,” you get out of bed.

Spencer’s eyes scan over your naked body and he asks, “Why? Where are you going?”

“Gotta pick up Dandelion from my mom’s,” you tell him as you button your jeans.

“Can I come?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? I haven’t seen Dandy in a week.”

“It’s not about you seeing Dandy. It’s about my mom seeing you.”

“What? She loves me.”

“Duh, more than she loves me, but you know how she likes to pry. She’s gonna think we’re back together.”

“Ah! No, not that we’re back together,” he mocks. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, darling.”

“Well, it’s not a good thing. Put some clothes on.”

“Take your clothes off.”

“Oh, you wish.”

“Can I come?”

“You came about five minutes ago, mister. It’s time for you to go.”

He fakes a laugh, “You’re so clever. Can I come?”

“Are you going to keep asking?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes. “Fine, just, put some fucking clothes on.”

“You’re so easy to wear down,” he giggles, and he hops up, gets himself dressed. You go to leave the room and he calls out to you, “Hey.”

He steps in front of you, takes a good look, and runs his hand over your hair, “I think it would be a good thing…”

You feel this lump in your throat, jammed in the center of your voice box, blocking any air, any words. You tear your eyes away from him and clear your throat, “God, I hate your haircut.”

He chuckles to himself as you maneuver around him and he follows you out to your car.

You ring your mom’s doorbell and say, “Need you to act normal, please.”

“Oh, so, not like we just came from having sex?”

“Exactly.”

You feel him squeeze your ass and you jump, swat at his arm, “Hey!”

“I’m just getting it all out now.”

And as you roll your eyes, the door opens and your mom greets you with nothing but an, “Oh!”

“Hey, mom,” you wave as you step inside.

“Hey, mom,” Spencer mimics and gives her a big hug.

“Well, this is a surprise, huh?”

“Wrapped up with a case early, darling said I could tag along.”

You round the corner into the living room and see Dandelion sitting in front of the TV, legs crisscrossed underneath her. You lean against the wall and just watch her for a moment. You scan over her features, your eyes landing on the tip of her nose that pokes out just like her dad’s. You clear your throat and she does a double take when she sees you.

“Mommy!” she shouts, and she hops up at lightning speed, rushing towards you as fast as her little feet will carry her.

You drop to your knees and let her crash into you, engulf her in your arms, hold her really tight. You pepper her face with kisses, saying, “Hi, baby, hi, baby!”

“Did you have a good day at work?” she asks you.

“Yes, baby. How was your day with Mimi?”

“We got ice cream.”

“No way!”

“Yes!”

“What kind of ice cream?”

“Chocolate,” she giggles.

“Ooh, that’s your favorite. Did you eat all of it?”

“Yes.”

“Every single bite?”

“Yes!”

“Where did it all go, huh?” You start to tickle her tummy and she falls over in laughter. “Here? Here?”

Her giggles are so loud and contagious that you smile so wide, it hurts your face. “Guess what? I have a surprise for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes, you,” you tickle her face. “Look,” you stand her up. “Look who’s here.”

On queue, Spencer pops his head around the corner and Dandelion’s eyes light up. She jumps up and down, screaming, “Daddy!”

“Dandy!” Spencer exclaims, and he scoops her up in his arms.

You stand up as he walks her into the living room, pecking soft kisses all over her face, twirling her around, “Oh, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You watch the two of them, Spencer sat on the couch with Dandelion in his lap, his arms around her protectively. And as you settle into the peace of it all, something - someone - pinches you very hard and they won’t let go.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” you wince, as your mom drags you into the kitchen.

“What the hell is Spencer doing here?” she whispers.

She stands in front of you with her arms crossed and you suddenly feel like a little girl. You cut your eyes over to Spencer and Dandy very briefly and stutter, “He…told you. They finished the case early and he asked if he could come see Dandy.”

“Mmhmm…” she nods.

“Mom, please,” you groan.

“Don’t mom, please me. What is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. I…we…he wanted to come see Dandy, so I let him come see Dandy. Coparenting 101, I don’t understand why you’re so suspicious.”

“What…what is this…” she reaches in and pulls down the collar of your shirt to reveal your neck. “Is…is that a hickey? Oh, [y/n], c’mon. What are you? 15?”

“No, no, I…burnt myself with a flat iron.”

She sighs, “I hope you know what you’re doing here, kid.”

“I’m not doing anything. Nothing is happening. I…”

“Shush,” she tells you and you turn around as Spencer enters the kitchen.

“Darling?” he calls.

“Hm?” you reply.

“Could I, uh, could Dandy come home with me? I’ll be off tomorrow and I can watch her while you’re at work and you could pick her up after?”

You and your mom exchange a glance and you cross your arms defensively, “Sure,” you nod at him. “Sure, if Dandy’s okay with that.”

“Thank you!” he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and your mom raises her eyebrows at you.

Spencer runs back into the living room, chanting, “Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day!” and Dandelion bursts into laughter, repeating him, going, “Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day!”

“Does he know nothing is happening?” your mom asks you.

“Spencer’s a smart boy, mom. Don’t worry about him.”

“And yet,” she sucks her teeth. “He’s a complete dumbass when it comes to you.”

Spencer asks if you can drive them to the park. There, JJ meets you with Henry. Dandy and him are close in age. In fact, Spencer had just returned from seeing Henry in the hospital when you told him you were pregnant. It was not your best timing, considering his familial trauma and all, but it had to be done. This puts Henry at 4 and Dandy running in close second at 6 months behind. JJ takes a seat next to you on the bench, watching Spencer run around with the kids. There are the casual aspects of conversation. The how are yous and how’s work and anecdotes about the kids and then she asks, “So, what’s going on between you two?”

“Ugh,” you groan. “Is there a sign on my face today or something?”

“Sore subject?” she grins.

“No. Nothing sore about it. Nothing’s going on…” you look at her from the corner of your eye, then turn your head, “Why? Why, did he say something to you?”

“No.”

A beat passes.

“You seem disappointed by that,” she adds.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that. Do not profile me. You know I hate it when you guys do that.”

She laughs, “Well, I lied. He talks about you all the time.”

You bite down on your lip and look away.

A beat passes.

JJ says, “You seem pleased by that.”

You drive Spencer and Dandelion to his apartment and she runs in like she owns the place.

“Okay, so,” you hold out her backpack for him. “She’s got a change of clothes in here, some hair clips, some ties, oh, uh, how much of her body wash and shampoo do you have left? Because I don’t think I put any in here…”

When you look up and he’s giving you a blank stare, you go, “What?”

“You’re not gonna come in?”

“It’ll just confuse her.”

Spencer wants to argue. He wants to sweet talk you and coax you inside, but coparenting 101, “No, yeah, you’re right.”

He watches you kiss Dandelion goodbye and when she runs back inside, he says, “Call you at bedtime?”

“Yes. Please.”

He has that look in his eye like he wants to kiss you, you know it well. So you leave before he can get a chance.

When you’re laying in bed that night, Spencer calls you on FaceTime and he sets you up on the nightstand so you can see them both. Dandelion laying in bed and Spencer kneeling beside her.

“Hi, mommy!” They say in unison.

“Hi,” you giggle.

“We were just about to pick Dandy’s story for the night,” Spencer tells you. “Dandy?”

She tilts her head.

“What story do you want tonight, baby?”

“Ummm…” she hums, giggling, “The story about my name.”

“Ohhh, that’s a good story,” Spencer grins.

“That is a good story,” you smile.

Spencer holds Dandelion’s hands in his and starts, in this sweet, soft voice, “Once upon a time…there was a mommy and a daddy. And they loved each other sooo much that they were gonna have a…”

“Baby!” she finishes for him and he chuckles.

“That’s right, they were gonna have a baby! And the mommy and daddy were sooo excited about their baby, they just couldn’t wait. But when the time came for the baby to come…”

“She didn’t wanna come out!” Dandy laughs.

“No, no, no, the baby didn’t wanna come out. She wanted to stay warm and cozy in the mommy’s belly. So, the mommy and daddy tried everything to get their baby to come out, but nothing worked! Until one day, they went for a walk at the park. And the mommy was so big that she walked like this…” Spencer mimics your trademark waddle and the two of you laugh at him, you rolling your eyes at the screen. “And they walked and walked and walked and nothing was working. Until, this big, big gust of wind came by…”

He flails his arms, going, “Whoooooosh!” and Dandelion mimics him.

“It was so big, it almost knocked the mommy and daddy over. And when the wind stopped, this tiny, small dandelion floated out of the sky and landed right on the mommy’s belly…and then…”

“Pop!” they say in sync.

“The baby was ready to come out! So the daddy took the mommy to the hospital and out came the most beautiful baby the world has ever, ever seen. The mommy and daddy were so happy and they loved her so much. But they still had to pick a name for her. So after they thought and thought and thought, they named her…”

“Diana Dandelion Reid,” she smiles.

“That’s right,” Spencer nods. “But we just call you Dandy.”

Dandelion smiles as Spencer places a kiss on her nose. “Goodnight, baby. Say good night to mommy,” he grabs his phone and holds it up to her.

“Goodnight, mommy,” she tells you and your heart just melts.

“Goodnight, baby,” you whisper. “I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She nods and rolls over as Spencer turns out the lamp, leaving her to sleep. Once he’s out of the room, he closes the door and gives you a soft smile.

“Thanks for joining us, darling.”

You smile, nod, “It’s a good story.”

“The best.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it.”

While you’re at work the next day, Spencer sends you a picture of the two of them out on the lake.

S: Pedal boats today!

You giggle to yourself.

Y: Omg so fun!! I thought you were afraid of open water?

S: I was terrified but she begged and begged and begged! What was I supposed to do???

Y: 😂😂😂

You pick up Dandelion after work and she is distraught.

“I don’t want daddy to go!” she cries and you see Spencer’s heart break. You can hear it.

“He’ll be back, baby, he always come back,” you whisper, rubbing her back.

“No-oo-oo!” she cries and reaches up for Spencer who scoops her into his arms before she can ball her hands into a fist.

“Hey, hey, hey, Dandy, look at me,” he cooes. He wipes the tears from her eyes, “You and mommy are going to call me everyday, huh? And you’ll tell me all about your fun day with Mimi and we’ll do your story before bed and I promise you, I will be back before you know it. Okay?”

She sniffles, gives him a sad nod.

“Okay, give me a hug,” he says and they squeeze each other real tight. “You, too, mommy,” he holds his other arm open for you and you hesitate, but only for a moment, and then you step in and wrap your arms around both of them.

“Mmm,” he hums happily, gives you both a kiss on the cheek, “My girls. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Dandelion lets Spencer hand her over to you and he waves until you guys are out of the door and all the way down the stairs. Then he exhales all the air in his chest and he cries. But only for a little bit.

He’s gone for a little over two weeks. The day he comes back, he doesn’t really give you any notice, he just texts: Back in town. What are you up to?

And you, still at work, reply: Nothin. Workin.

S: Lunch?

You meet him at a restaurant down the street and when you walk in, he gets so excited that he stands up to wave and knocks all the silverware off the table. Your hand flies to your mouth as it all falls to the floor in a loud sequence of clangs and booms and you watch him scramble to pick it all up. People are staring and as you make the decision to walk over to him, it’s like you’re saying to everyone: yep, he’s mine!

“Hi, darling,” he huffs, his face bright red.

“Hi,” you laugh.

He takes you in a warm embrace and you hold the back of his head in your hand.

“Oh, I missed you,” he says.

“We missed you, too.”

He’s not supposed to, but like he always has, he tells you all about the case they were working on. Full of twists and turns and gorey details that make you sick to your stomach but, somehow, you can still eat. He asks about Dandy and that leads you into the dreaded preschool conversation and you both shut it down instantly.

“How did she get so big?” he asks.

“We just…kept feeding her,” you laugh and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Time needs to slow down. Seriously. It’s happening too fast.”

“I know. I know, I know, but we’ve got so much more to look forward to, y’know? First day of school and science fairs and graduations…”

“Ah-ah! No, no, none of that. She’s gonna be little forever.”

“You’re in denial, doctor.”

“Well, duh.”

“Here’s the check, you guys,” the waiter interrupts. “No rush, though. Take your time.”

“Thanks,” you say in unison.

“He only brought one check?” you question.

Spencer raises his eyebrows at you.

“And he gave it to you? How caveman of him.”

“Now, now, darling, stand down. Let me pay for your food.”

“I mean, of course I’m going to let you pay for it. I just don’t like the assumption.”

“What assumption?” he smirks.

“I…you really like driving me insane, don’t you?”

He cackles and nods, “Yeah, actually. Kinda my job.”

You laugh and lean into him a bit. The booth you two are in has you sandwiched shoulder to shoulder, and sure, there is plenty of room for there to be distance between you two, but you don’t want there to be. You look at his neck and reach in. As your fingertip touches his skin, you can feel his pulse kick up. You pull the chain from underneath his shirt and let the dandelion pendant fall to his chest.

“Where’s yours?” he asks and his fingertips trail over your collarbone, grabbing onto your matching necklace.

You release his chain, but he won’t let go off yours and he’s giving you that look and you just shake your head, “I should really get back to work.”

When you get to his place, the two of you burst through the door, bodies mangled and tangled together, lips mushed into each other’s faces. Spencer’s got his arms wrapped tight around your waist and your hands have gotten lost in his hair. As he pushes you backwards, you trip over a barbie doll and nearly fall over but he catches you.

“You okay?” he mumbles.

“Mhm,” you nod, and you whip your bodies around, push him onto the couch. He lands with a deep, “oof!” and watches you crawl into his lap. His eyelids drop, feeling the warmth of your hand on his face and your lips on his neck. He grips onto your waist, bunches your dress up in his hands and you work to unbutton his shirt.

You breathe into each other’s mouths, out of breath and grinding against one another on a constant, rhythmic loop.

“Mm,” you moan as he licks down your neck. “Do you have a condom?”

“Mm,” he ponders, “Condom, condom, condom…yes!” And he throws you off of him, leaving you laying on your back while he runs into his room. You slide your panties off and he returns with the packet in hand and falls right on top of you.

His body perched between your legs, you undo his pants and take his jaw in your hands, put your tongue in his mouth. He puts the condom on and holds onto the couch as he pushes all the way into you. You both gasp and Spencer crashes on top of you, catching you in a messy kiss. You pull your legs back for him and he starts pounding into you with this rhythm that you love and he knows that you love. He peppers soft kisses all over your face and grunts into your ear, grips onto your jaw so he can look you in the eye. He thrusts into you so quickly and with so much force that the couch is rattling around on the floor and your head is getting knocked off the edge of the couch. But he’s got you.

Your moans bounce off the walls and your mouth is wide open as you scream, “Fuck!”

As Spencer leans into kiss you, the both of you lose your balance and go sliding off the couch.

“Oh, shit!” you gasp, and try to hold on, but it’s too late and you guys fall on the floor, Spencer groaning as he breaks your fall.

“Oh, my god,” you whisper, leaning down to comfort him. “Oh, my god, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just…just do that thing with your hips that I like,” he huffs.

You readjust, “This?” you pant as you start to grind your hips on his cock.

“Oh, yeah,” he moans, his eyes falling shut and his head rolling back. “Yeah, that’s it.”

You lean back, resting your hands on his knees and bounce on him, your mouth falling open. He paws at your breasts and pulls at the fabric of your dress. He knows you’re about to come because he knows you, and he knows your body and he can feel you tightening around him, your hips increasing in speed. Your voice starts to get real whiny and you pound your palms into his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper and all he can do is watch, and hold himself back until you get there.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you tangle your fingers in his hair and grind yourself against him until your whole body tenses up and trembles. You come with his face in your chest and your eyes rolling so far back in your head that you go blind. It only takes a few more motions of your hips for him to follow behind you and he holds onto you for dear life, muffling his groans against your skin.

You both fall onto the floor, still holding each other, trying to catch your breath. Spencer grips onto your hair and kisses you passionately, repeatedly, and casually says, “Love you.”

You can’t stop the visceral reaction you have. You just sit up and stare at him, your eyes big and wide. “I…” you stutter, give him a friendly pat on the face, “Love you…I have to go.”

He watches, dazed and confused, as you hop off of him and fix your dress, “You’re making me feel cheap here, darling.”

You laugh, awkwardly, “No, no, I just, I’m so late for work. I have to get back,” you trip over your panties as you pull them up your legs and swear, “Shit!”

Spencer fixes his pants and stands up, striding over to you, “I freaked you out…”

“What? No. You didn’t freak me out.”

“Because, I can say I don’t love you if it’ll fix it.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

“I don’t love you, I…hate you actually.”

“I’m just late for work,” you try to slide out the door but he reaches out for you.

“Wait, wait,” he calls. “I thought I could maybe see Dandy today?”

“Uh, yeah, she’s at my mom’s just, go whenever,” you shrug. “I have to go. Bye.”

“Darling?” he calls, but you close the door on him.

Your body shivers and you march down the hallway, down the stairs and back on your way to work. When your shift ends, you head over to your mom’s and she opens the door with a bright smile, “Hello, my love!”

“Hi,” you groan as you step inside.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just, rough day. Need to see my Dandy…” you round the corner and see Spencer playing with her in the living room, so you push yourself back, your mom along with you.

“What the hell is he doing here?” you whisper.

“He’s been here for a few hours. He said he told you?”

“He…I mean…yeah, he did. Why is he still here?”

“I don’t know, [y/n], maybe to be an active, caring father? Crucify the boy, why don’t you?”

Your heart is pounding out of your chest and you tug on your hair with a rush of anxiety.

“[y/n]…” your mom says. “What is going on?”

You sigh and lean against the wall, “I don’t know what I’m doing…you were right, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

And she steps in, grabs your shoulders, takes a deep breath. You follow her. In and out, in and out.

“Well, then,” she nods. “You better figure it the fuck out, baby.”

“I know. I know, I know.”

“Mommy?” Your heads turn to the sound of the tiny voice and Dandelion looks up at you with wide, innocent eyes and every bit of tightness in your chest just dissipates.

“Hi, honey,” you coo and you instantly lean down to pick her up. “Oh, hi, you. Hi, my baby.”

Spencer follows her out there and waves, casually, “Hi, mommy.”

“Hi,” you nod to him.

“Me and daddy made a castle,” Dandelion tells you. “Come look!”

“Oh, yes, show me, show me!”

You follow her into the living room, leaving Spencer with your mom. She purses her lips at him and then promptly walks by him, giving his shoulder a harsh slap.

“Ow!” he exclaims. “What did I do?”

Spencer takes Dandelion home for the night. It’s a Friday so he plans to have her all weekend and most of next week which is fine with you. It’ll give you time to rest and reflect and figure it the fuck out. Spencer takes the hint. For once, he takes the hint and he only texts you sporadic updates.

So, when he calls you on Monday at four in the morning, you think he wants to have a talk. One of those conversations that you guys can never seem to have in the light of day.

“Hello?” you grumble.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry I woke you up. Can you, um, can you come over?”

You sit up, “Why? Is Dandy okay?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine. She’s asleep. I, uh…there’s a case…”

You sigh. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re already up to get dressed.

“Darling…”

“I’ll be there in ten,” and you hang up.

He sees your car pull in from the street and he has the door open for you when you get upstairs. He has his go-bag packed and he looks apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “I’ll make it up to you. Both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off. “I’ve got it. You can go.”

“Darling, you know I can’t…I…I didn’t ask to be called in.”

“No, well, duh. This is just one of those things, right?” you shrug. “One of those things I could never stand and I still can’t stand. I’m used to it. It’s fine. I’ll explain to Dandy.”

“This isn’t about the case…”

“Can you…please?”

“This is about the other day. When we…when I…”

“I’m not upset. Don’t project on me. I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay, that was convincing.”

“Why do you always have to do this?” you snap, keeping your voice down. “Without fail. You always do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you always have to ruin a good thing? You always, always just have to suck the fun out of everything.”

He scoffs, goes to speak, and pauses, “Did it ever occur to you that…that it wasn’t fun for me, [y/n]?”

Oh, he’s serious. He used your real name.

“That I didn’t enjoy being yanked around and used like some toy?”

“I…oh, come on! Is your eidetic memory broken or something? You initiated it, remember? And if you did that just in hopes of us getting back together, that’s not fair. That’s so unfair.”

“I just wanted to be close to you. And, yeah, maybe that wasn’t fair. But I just…I’m having a hard time believing that it doesn’t work. That we don’t work, hey,” he grabs your shoulders, makes you stop shaking your head and look at him, “Maybe for all the hurt we’ve caused each other and all the baggage, maybe it’s just meant to work. We are meant to work, okay? Because I love you. I am so in love with you. I don’t know how to not be in love with you, look,” he puts your hand to his chest, “Feel how fast my heart is beating? It does not every time I’m around you. I can’t help it.”

“Please, stop.”

“And you’re telling me you don’t feel the same way?” he puts his hand to your ribs and your heart is pounding against his palm. “I don’t believe you.”

It takes you a moment before you can pry his hand away. You remove your hand from his chest, hold his hands in yours, and give him this sad, sad look.

You can see his shoulders fall in defeat, this heavy breath of air coming straight from his chest. He steps away and grabs his go-bag, stands up straight, “It’s a local case so I shouldn’t be gone too long. Kiss Dandy for me?”

You nod, but you can’t look at him. You let him place a kiss on your forehead and then he leaves. You lock the door behind him.

You crawl into bed with Dandelion and you stir for most of the night.

By the time you fall asleep, she wakes up twenty minutes later.

And so, life just kinda goes on. Spencer calls to talk to Dandy just before you go into work so you tell him to call your mom and he does. That’s the last you hear from him for the next couple of days until he calls you while you’re at work.

“Hello?” you answer.

“[y/n]?”

You pause for a moment, “JJ?” and then the realization hits you and you hop up from your desk, running out of the building.

There’s some words like “bomb” and “concussion” and “pavement” but they all blur together and you yell, “Just tell me what hospital!”

You can’t even remember where you parked your car. Everything is muffled and you rush around the crowded hospital in a frenzy. You can’t hear anything. Hell, you can barely see anything. Just Derek, holding an ice pack to his head, pointing you towards a room so you go.

When you see Spencer lying there, a big bandage wrapped around the circumference of his head and a doctor tracking his vitals, you can barely bring yourself to step in the room.

The doctor glances at you, then returns to his clipboard, “Are you his wife?”

You step in, slowly, bring yourself to Spencer’s side, “I’m, uh, the closest thing he’s got to one.”

He tells you there’s some swelling around Spencer’s brain, but it’s been drained. He can’t provide you with an exact estimate of when Spencer will wake up. If he ever wakes up. And as this man is talking to you in this stern, stoic voice, you just look at Spencer. You trace the structure of his face and put your hand on his chest. The doctor leaves and you still can’t pull yourself away from him.

“You did this on purpose,” you whisper, caressing his face. “You did this on purpose to make me feel bad, didn’t you? Because…because I was awful to you…I’m so sorry,” you sob. “I’m so sorry.”

You lay your head on his chest and cry, “Just don’t die. I can’t do this by myself, you hear me? Please, don’t, die.”

Spencer wouldn’t wake up for another four whole days. You sleep in the chair beside his bed until a nice nurse brings you a cot. Dandelion stays at your mom’s house and JJ offers, repeatedly, to give you a a chance to leave. Shower, eat, see your kid. But you’re so worried that if you leave, Spencer will die. So you fall asleep every night to the sound of his heartbeat on the monitor and if it ever should stop, you would know. On day four, you pop your head up from a few hours sleep and he’s watching you. His eyes are hooded and grey, but they are open, you can tell. You hop up and rush over to him, gently setting your hands on his body.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Hi! Hi! Hi, Spencer,” you sob. “Oh, my god.”

He stares at you for a moment, then his eyes scan the room. He looks back at you, “Who…” his voice breaks, “Are you?”

Your eyes go wide and you let out this defeated sound. You don’t even know where to begin. You don’t know how to respond or what to do or how to feel. You think you’re gonna crumble to your knees. And then he smiles.

“I’m just messing with you, darling.”

“Ugh!” you shout and you start slamming your palms into his chest. “That’s not funny!”

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” he laughs. “Okay, okay, okay, I’m injured here!”

You take his face in your hands and give him a long kiss. You can hear his heart rate go up on the monitor.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he mumbles, as you hug him. “I’m…I’m sorry for everything.”

“No, stop that. Not important. Ridiculously unimportant, okay? Don’t even think about it.”

He nods and breathes you in, “You…stink. When was the last time you showered?”

“That would be…like, the day you were blown up.”

“Ah. When was that?”

“Four days ago.”

“Holy shit.”

You giggle, “Did you just say a bad word, doctor l?”

“Fuck, cut me some slack! I slept through hump day.”

You press your nose against his and laugh and the world feels okay again.

Spencer has to stay in the hospital for another week before you can bring him home. Dandelion is back in her own bed and she just thinks Spencer has gone on a long, long trip. She’s at your mom’s when you get Spencer to his apartment and he begs to see her. Even when his head is still killing him, he begs to see her.

“Tomorrow,” you say as you tuck him into bed. “You’ve still got that scary raccoon look going on. Don’t wanna freak her out.”

“Tomorrow? You promise?”

“I promised the both of you. Tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He curls up and notices you crawl in bed beside him, “Darling, you don’t have to sleep here.”

“Shhhh,” you whisper, run your hand through his hair, “Go to sleep.”

The next day, he is more like himself. Maybe it’s the adrenaline he gets from the prospect of seeing his daughter, maybe it’s waking up next to you in the morning, but either way, he looks like himself and he talks like himself and he can’t wait to go to the park.

Your mom meets you there with Dandelion and she trips over her feet running to Spencer. She crashes into him and nearly knocks him over, and you can tell it hurts him, but he takes it and kisses her face.

“Where were you, daddy?”

“Oh, on a long, long trip, baby. But I’m back now.”

“I missed you!”

“Oh, Dandy,” he squeezes her tight. “You have no idea.”

He plays for as long as he can. He climbs the playset and runs around playing tag and hide and seek until his breath nearly gives out. He runs over to the bench you and your mom are sat on and huffs, “Can someone else push her on the swing before I pass out?”

The two of you laugh and your mom says, “I’ll go.”

“Thanks,” Spencer takes her spot beside you and his head falls into your lap. “Phew! Tell you what, a coma seriously bends you out of shape.”

“Well, you weren’t all that much in shape before the coma.”

“Ugh,” he groans. “You sound like the fitness personnel at the academy. What does in shape even mean?”

You cackle and he puts his arm over your shoulder. The two of you watch Dandy on the swing. Up and down, up and down, higher and higher, until her laughter is echoing around the park.

“You know…” you start. “Maybe it wouldn’t be…the worst thing in the world…”

Spencer doesn’t even have to ask what you’re talking about, he just looks at you and smiles, “Really?”

You give him a sly shrug.

He looks away from you, trying to keep himself from smiling so hard that his face rips in half. “I…I’m sorry - it’s because I got blown up, isn’t it?”

“Just shut up,” you laugh.

“You can tell me the truth, I won’t be mad.”

“You know what? I take it back, you get on my nerves. Oof!” you exclaim as he suddenly takes you into a tight hug. And for the first time in a long time, you feel a calm, serene peace.

“Yeah, well,” he says, “Sorry, too late.”

[55sturn]

✮ TO KNOW THINGS LIKE LOVE

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader [ past tense ]

synopsis: in which matt still grapples with the devastating loss of his girlfriend, y/n.

warnings: angst. angst. angst. ANGSTTTTT. death of main character, car crash including flashbacks, matt dealing with survivor’s guilt, swearing, panic attacks, mentions of hospitals, night terrors. get your tissues ready.

THIRD PERSON POV

for a good chunk of his life, matt had things planned out for him. nick would wake up before both him and chris, plan their day then relay the plans and activities to the two younger triplets, and matt would roll with the punches with a minimal amount of disagreement.

then y/n came along, and she’d plan out dates for them, things they could as a group, and so on and so forth. matt was much more willing to go along with those plans.

matt could count on someone in his life setting the plans for the day. he could count on people directing him where to go and what to do. everyone in his life was reliable.

what he couldn’t rely on, was idiotic drivers t-boning the passenger side of his car, killing his girlfriend on impact. leaving him there, limp and bloody with his dead girlfriend beside him, her hand still in his.

what he couldn’t rely on was the ambulance getting to the scene of the crash in a decent amount of time, forcing him to hear the screeching of rubber on replay in his head.

what he couldn’t rely on was his night terrors and panic attacks, he was living in agony not knowing when they’d creep up his spine, forcing him to shoot up straight, choking back sobs and gasps of airs until he was shaking so violently that he’d double over and empty the contents of his stomach on the ground.

he was no longer the same person he used to be, and it was destroying him.

HERE I AM WAKING UP, STILL CANT SLEEP ON YOUR SIDE

matt was woken from a deep slumber by vivid flashes of light behind his eyelids, followed by glass shattering and y/n’s laugh getting cut short as the other car made impact.

sighing, he ran his hand down face, forcing himself to look at her side of the bed. he felt tears well along his waterline as he saw it in the same state that it was in the day she died, eight months ago. he hasn’t had the heart to remake her side of the bed or to even touch it, knowing she wouldn’t be coming back to mess it up.

pursing his lips, he hastily wiped his eyes, and climbed out of bed. flicking on the hall light, he stumbled into the kitchen. he sat at the table, flicking through his camera roll, watching the countless videos of his girlfriend laughing and smiling, bringing sorrowful tears to his eyes. unable to help himself, he picked up the glass of water he had grabbed himself and chucked it at the wall before dropping to the floor and bringing his knees to his chest, his body completely wracked with broken and choked-up sobs.

upon hearing the crash, chris made his way up the stairs, knowing he’d find matt in the kitchen. as he turned the corner, the sight broke his heart. seeing his brother curled in on himself, choking out sobs that were heartbreaking enough to bring the toughest man to tears.

“oh, matt. i’m so sorry.” chris whispered, sitting beside matt and pulling him into his arms, his face pressed against matt’s bicep as the two sat on the floor.

“it-it’s not fucking fair chris! i can’t do this without her. i can’t fucking sleep without picturing her cold, dead body beside mine, her dead fucking hand in mine. i can’t fucking breathe without her chris. it’s not fair that i get to go on while she’s six feet under.” matt sobbed, his voice raw and completely destroyed, breaking chris’ heart in the process.

“i know man, i can’t fix any of this, and i-i wish i could so fucking badly, but she wouldn’t want you to beat yourself up like this matt, and you know that. i know you miss her and i wish more than anything, to turn back time and stop you guys from going, but please, just hold on. for me, for nick, justin, for mom and dad. for y/n.” chris cried, rubbing his brother’s back, pressing his forehead against the side of matt’s head, trying his hardest to comfort his brother.

once matt had calmed down a little bit, chris let him crash in his bed while he slept on the couch in his room, knowing it was far too hard for matt to sleep in his own room.

THERE’S YOUR COFFEE CUP, THE LIPSTICK STAIN FADES WITH TIME

when matt finally woke late the next afternoon, he made his way back into the kitchen to grab more water, as he opened the cupboard, he spotted y/n’s signature coffee cup, her light pink lipstick stain still imprinted on the side of the cup.

with a sad smile, he gingerly took the cup in his hands, hovering his thumb over the lipstick print. sighing, he pressed his lips to the outer corner of the stain and placed it back in the cupboard.

CLEANING UP TODAY, FOUND THAT OLD ZEPPELIN SHIRT

it’s been two months since matt’s last severe breakdown. he had finally agreed to start grief counselling and therapy, knowing he had to do something about the things he was struggling to handle.

his councillor had told him he should start by bringing out a few of y/n’s things and placing them where he can see them, instead of locking them away and pretending like she was never there.

matt struggled to accept that he’d see her things but once he started doing it, he found that it made it easier. it made the process of healing much, much easier. with her things out in the open, it felt like she was still around the house. he had to remind himself that she wasn’t going to come through that door again, but there’s been a few times where he was able to tell himself that without crying.

and so, following his grief councillor’s advice, he also decided to do a deep cleaning, sorting through his clothes and other random shit in his closet. as he reached to the back of the top row of clothes, he found y/n’s battered and ripped zeppelin shirt.

the one she wore when she’d paint, dye her hair, do deep cleans around the house that involved bleach and other chemicals. with a heavy sigh, he bunched it in his hands, bringing it to his face and taking a deep breath.

for the first time in almost eleven months, the scent of her kingering perfume didn’t bring tears to his eyes. it brought a sense of comfort. almost like she was enveloping him in a hug from the other side of the portal dividing the dearly departed and the living.

IF I CAN DREAM LONG ENOUGH, YOU’D TELL ME I’D BE JUST FINE

as matt drifted off to sleep, he felt a warm hand caressing his cheek. the owner of the hand running their thumb along his cheekbone the same way y/n would. with a slight gasp, his eyes shot open. as his eyes adjusted to the dark room, he saw the figure standing beside his bed,

“hi my love, i miss you.”

“y/n, honey? is that you?” matt choked out, his body overcome with a strong, desperate sob as he reached out to touch her, his hand brushing through her silhouette. but as it brushed through, it almost felt like he was touching her.

“i miss you baby, so fucking much. just know it wasn’t your fault, matt. don’t blame yourself please.” she cried gently, making matt smile sadly, he always thought she looked so beautiful when she cried.

“are you safe, honey?”

“yeah baby, i am. i’m watching over all of you.”

“it’s so hard without you.”

“i know my love. i wish i could come back but i know you’ll be just fine.”

“when can i see you again?”

“some day matt, i promise.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“i’ll love you forever, matty.”

as she pressed as kiss to his forehead, matt’s body jolted completely awake, his head feeling warm where her lips had touched his skin in his dream. normally, he’d feel extremely distraught after a dream of her, but seeing her and hearing that she was safe, made him feel at ease.

unable to fall back asleep, he sat up and reached across his bed, running his hand along the sheet on her side, feeling the duo in the mattress that had molded to her body. smiling, he plucked mr. wrinkleton off her nightstand and planted him in the middle of her side of the bed, finding some sort of comfort in him keeping her side safe.

rolling back over, he reached into drawer of the nightstand on his side and pulled out the small velvet box that he was planning to give to her when the got back that night.

“one day i’ll give this to you, y/n, wherever you are, honey.” he whispered to the dark before tucking himself back into bed.

that night, he had the first peaceful rest he had experienced since y/n passed. he was able to fall asleep knowing how lucky he was to feel love as great as the one he had with y/n. he felt incredibly lucky to have known something so beautiful, raw, devastating, and pure. to him, he felt that to known things like love, is to have lived a full and warm life.

✮ taglist: @dylsdunbar @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @verosivy

© 55STURN 2023 [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[thebisexualdogdad]

can u make a sequel (or maybe even a prequel 😉) to ur tim x male! chen reader fic?

Lucy's brother part 1

Tim Bradford x Male!reader

So finding out that you had slept with your sister's training officer was pretty awkward to say the least but you really liked Tim and talked to them separately to see if there was any possible way you could continue to see him.

They each had valid concerns and neither wanted anyone to think Tim would give Lucy special treatment just because he was dating her brother but after a couple of weeks the two of them decided you and Tim should give this relationship a real shot.

You didn't necessarily keep it a secret but you weren't so open about it either which wasn't hard for Tim since he already preferred keeping his private life private… well, except for his best friend Angela who still found this whole situation quite amusing, most people at the station didn't even know he was gay.

Lucy on the other hand had a much harder time not spilling your relationship to everyone especially Jackson and Nolan.

“Tim seems in a good mood, maybe he'll take it easy on you today,” Jackson laughs as they collect their war bags for their shift.

“Huh? What? I have no idea what you're talking about I wouldn't know why he's in a good mood,” she rambles, avoiding eye contact as she ejects herself from the conversation and hurrying out the door to the patrol cars.

You rarely brought Tim to the apartment, usually spending time at his house to avoid creating any awkward run ins like the time he used your shower after a day at the paintball range and Lucy came home to him walking around in only a towel.

Tonight however Lucy told you she was going to be gone due to plans to go bar hopping with Jackson, Nolan and some of the other rookies they graduated with from the academy and her crashing at Jackson's apartment afterwards.

You took the opportunity to invite Tim over for a date night in, cooking him dinner and watching a movie however the movie was forgotten about half way through when Tim started kissing your neck.

Now you were on top of him making out on the couch, your phone on the kitchen counter where you couldn't hear your it buzzing with texts from Lucy saying how plans changed and Jackson was crashing with you guys instead.

The movie was too loud for you two to hear the front door opening and Lucy turned the light on to the sight of you in Tim’s lap, both of your shirts gone but luckily you were still dressed from the waist down.

“Oh my god,” she says covering her eyes.

“Hey Tim what are you doing here?” Jackson says pretty tipsy, taking him a minute to put the pieces together yet, “woah wait, are Y/N and Tim dating?”

You quickly hop off Tim and you scramble for your shirts, “you can open your eyes Lucy we’re decent.”

“You really couldn't go to your bedroom to do that?” Lucy questions, her words slurred, “now I have to burn the couch.”

“Don't be so dramatic nothing happened,” you sigh, “come on you are both drunk you should drink some water and go to sleep.”

“I can't wait to tell Nolan that you and Tim are dating Y/N, he didn't believe me when I said Tim was totally gay,” Jackson laughs.

After getting Jackson set up on the couch and Lucy in her bed you stand outside your apartment door with Tim saying goodnight to him.

“Sorry our date was a bust,” you apologize.

“It's alright let's just stick to having dates at my place,” he chuckles, “but uh could you talk to Jackson? I don't care if Nolan knows about us but I don't need him going and blabbing my personal business to the whole station.”

“I'll talk to him in the morning,” you smile, “but you know he's gonna tell Angela about this right.”

“Oh great, something else for her to tease me about,” he laughs, kissing you sweetly, “are you still in for the double date with her and Wesley next weekend?”

“Looking forward to it,” you say, kissing him one more time.

Dating your sister's TO was a lot harder to navigate than you thought it would be but you had fallen hard for Tim so you wouldn't change a thing.

[amandagardendee]

Labor in the car

Do not read if you don’t like MPREG, birth, etc. This story includes an anal birth.

A overdue young man is driving home from work when he starts having contractions.

“Ow…” he whinced at the sharp pains that had been occurring since he started driving. He brushed it off as just cramps and continued to drive home. He would occasionally take his right hand off the wheel to rub his large belly. Since he was so big, he had to adjust the seat and push it back so he could fit…

The more he drove, the worse the pains seemed to get. It felt like his stomach was… contracting? He was a few days overdue, it wouldn’t be to crazy to imagine these WERE contractions. He debated calling his wife on his phone, but didn’t want to text and drive. “Ughhh…” He moaned, rubbing his large belly and slightly unbuttoning his pants. “If my water breaks, then I’ll tell her… hhnngh…” he told himself. He felt something building up in his pelvis and cock that made him double over and clutch his stomach. He nearly crashed because of the pain. “Huff… ahh… Okay…” he decided to finally pull over and attempt to call his wife. “Ngh- HHGH!” He felt something shoot out of his dick and asshole. Like… water? Did his water just break? “F-Fuck…” He quickly called his wife, moaning more loudly as the pain worsened. “Hhh… hi darling.” “Hey, whats up?” “Mhhghh… My water just broke.” “…Shit. Do you need me to come get you? Where are you?” “On my- ugh way home. P-Please be outside waiting for me.” “Yes, of course! Please be careful.” He ended the call and decided to keep driving. He was almost home, anyways, it should be fine… He gripped the wheel tightly, feeling his asshole stretch and the urge to push. “N-No no no…” He squeezed his legs together to try and keep himself from pushing. At every red light or stop sign he had to double over and keep himself from pushing. This wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted to be home with his beautiful wife in their bed, calmly pushing out their baby… He felt tears prick his eyes, from both the pain and hormones. He was nearing their neighborhood, breathing heavily and lifting up his shirt to rub his tight belly more. “Fuck fuck fuck… NHGGH!” The relief he felt when he saw his concerned wife standing on the porch, running up to his car. He quickly parked halfway in the driveway before writhing in pain. His wife quickly opened the drivers door and pulled him out into her arms. He clung to her tightly, sobbing into her chest. “It hurts, it hurts so much… AH! I n-need to push!” His wife quickly hushed him and ran inside, laying him on the couch since it was closer then the bed and quickly tearing off his pants and boxers. He was already bearing down and she could barely see the head coming out of his tight hole. She positioned him in a squatting position snd sat behind him, letting him squeeze her hands and kissing his forehead. “HNNGH!” He bore down again, feeling the head coming much closer noe. “Good boy, oh your doing so good. I’m so proud of you.” His wife praised. He panted before bearing down again. “C-Crowning…!” His wife let go of his hand and moved it down to his anus so he could feel his baby crown. He gasped and sobbed and bore down, the babies head popping out with a gush of fluids. “There you go. Deep breaths. Don’t push yet, I’ll tell you when.” He pressed his lips tightly together as he tried not to push, letting the baby move on its own. He felt the shoulders press against his pelvis, causing him to nearly scream. “…Push now.” his wife gently stuck two fingers in his asshole and stretched him open. “Ahh! Hah! NGH!” He pushed lightly, and the shoulders popped out. He reached down, pulling the rest of his baby out. He promply passed out, holding his baby snd resting in his wifes arms.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 14

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 2214

Warnings: Angst, suspense, emotional situations, Crowley being Crowley.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 14

When the SUVs pulled up to what looked like a heavily guarded wrought iron gate, attached to a thick brick or concrete wall, your heart almost felt like it would beat out of your chest. Dean at least still had his arm over your shoulders, holding you close, but your eyes were focused on the things outside. Outside the gates, all you could make out were the tall hedges and trees that had grown past the top of the wall, which you assumed encompassed the property. There were a few different types of vines, but they looked as though they’d been repeatedly cut back.

You wanted to ask where they’d taken you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak at the moment, even after what the judge had said. As the gates began to open, you felt like you were almost holding your breath. The driveway was neatly kept, winding its way through a pedicured landscape of trees, hedges, and flower beds. The mansion of a house where the SUVs stopped took your breath away. It was the most elegant and extravagant home you’d ever seen in person. The agent next to Benny opened the door, stepped out, and then held the door for the three of you. You swore your jaw had hit the pavement as you stepped out, staring up at the mansion before you when that Scottish accent pulled your gaze to the man coming down the steps.

“Oh good, you made it without incident,” Crowley stated, seeming quite pleased.

“What’s going on?” you asked, relieved it was Crowley and not someone from the Vaught family.

“I’ve made arrangements for you to stay here during the course of your case,” he explained. “One of my men will be back with your belongings, and theirs as well. Now, shall we get some brunch?”

You were still fairly confused, but you followed Crowley into his mansion, Dean by your side and Benny bringing up the rear. The interior of Crowley’s mansion was even more impressive than the exterior. As you stepped inside, your eyes were immediately drawn to the high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings and chandeliers that looked like they belonged in a palace. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling and elegant wallpaper, giving the space a sophisticated yet intimidating ambiance.

You walked through a grand foyer with a sweeping staircase that curved up to the second floor. The marble floors gleamed underfoot, and you could see various pieces of antique furniture and art tastefully arranged throughout the space. It was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment of the courtroom.

Crowley led the way down a long hallway, the rich scent of polished wood and old books filling the air. You passed several rooms, each one more opulent than the last, until you reached a set of double doors. Crowley pushed them open to reveal a lavish dining room.

The dining room was dominated by a long, mahogany table that could easily seat twenty people. The table was already set for a smaller group, with fine china, crystal glasses, and silver cutlery laid out meticulously. The walls were lined with tall bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes, and several large windows allowed natural light to pour in, illuminating the room in a warm glow.

A chef and a few servants were bustling around, preparing the final touches for the meal. The aroma of bacon, cooking meat, and something that was perhaps a fine fish dish wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation.

“Please, have a seat,” Crowley gestured to the chairs, taking his place at the head of the table. Dean guided you to a seat beside him, and Benny sat across from you, giving you a reassuring nod.

As you settled into the plush chair, Crowley smiled and spoke to the servants, “Begin serving, please.”

The servants moved with practiced efficiency, bringing out a covered plate for each of you, while others had platters with delectable deserts displayed on them. The aromas only made your mouth water further. Another servant set a chilled, open beer on a coaster near your, Dean’s, and even Benny’s plate while another poured Crowley a glass of what looked like fine wine.

Crowley dismissed the servant as he looked at you, his expression more serious now. “You must have many questions,” he said, taking a sip. “Feel free to ask anything you need to understand.”

You wanted to answer him, but the servants set a dish down in front of the three of you, revealing what had smelled so good. Yours and Dean’s contained the most delicious-looking burger you’d ever seen, while Benny got something that was clearly something he hadn’t had in a long time. You were just too focused on your burger at the moment to even ask what it was.

“Figured you lot would prefer something simple,” Crowley told you, seeing you focused on the meal and not his prior statement.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, looking over at him as Dean squeezed your knee in a reassuring way. “Why are you doing this for us?” you asked finally.

Crowley’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something softer behind his usual confident exterior. “Let’s just say, I have a vested interest in seeing justice served. The Vaughts have been playing games for too long, and it’s about time someone put a stop to it.” Dean leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We appreciate your help, Crowley. But what’s the catch?”

Crowley chuckled, setting his glass down. “No catch, Dean. Just a mutual benefit. You get the support you need for this case, and I get the satisfaction of seeing the Vaughts lose for once.” Benny spoke up, his tone serious. “We’ll do whatever it takes to win this. They’ve messed with the wrong people.” Crowley nodded approvingly. “That’s the spirit, Benny. Now, let’s eat. You’re going to need your strength for what lies ahead.” As the meal progressed, you found yourself relaxing slightly, the initial shock of Crowley’s opulent home giving way to a sense of determination. You had allies in the fight, and together, you were going to bring the Vaughts to justice.

Halfway through the meal, the double doors opened, instantly pulling your attention to what looked like a butler. “They’re here, Sir,” he told Crowley.

“Ah, wonderful,” Crowley replied, delighted as a smile played at his lips. “Show them in.”

The butler nodded, and a few moments later, Sam, Ellen, Jodi, Bobby, Mary, and John came into the dining hall. You instantly stood as Ellen made her way to you, tears in both your eyes as you embraced her in a tight hug.

“Oh, honey,” she told you softly, and you heard the sadness and relief in her tone.

“I’m okay, Auntie,” you replied quietly.

Ellen held you at arm’s length, her eyes scanning your face as if reassuring herself that you were truly alright. “We’ve been worried sick about you,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Dean, Sam, and even Benny embraced in hugs before Dean hugged John and Mary. Even Jodi and Bobby hugged the boys, then came over to you, giving you a soft, but relieved smile, embracing you in a hug. 

“We’re here for ya, kid,” John told you with the softest expression you’d ever seen on the man.

Crowley, ever the consummate host, gestured to the empty seats. “Please, join us. There’s plenty of food, and we’ve much to discuss.” As everyone settled around the table, the atmosphere shifted slightly. There was a sense of camaraderie, of a team coming together to face a common enemy. You wished that Jo could be there, as she was more like a sister to you than a cousin. And, oddly enough, even Cas and Garth. Just as you were finally feeling like you were relaxing, your mark began burning, horribly, a pained hiss leaving your lips just as Dean was getting out of his seat.

Crowley snapped his fingers a couple of times while you put your hand over your mark, missing whatever was being said. Moments later, though, Dean was putting cream on your mark. “It’s okay, I’m right here,” he attempted to soothe you as the entire room had gone silent.

“Well, now, this changes things,” Crowley mused from where he sat, leaning back in his chair. “Why wasn’t I informed about that?”

“About what?” you asked, only wincing slightly as you looked at him.

“With that,” he began, gesturing to your mark, “we’ve got a little more leverage.”

You tried to look down at your mark, but with where it was, you couldn’t see it. Frustrated, you looked back at him, “What are you talking about?”

He practically laughed, “Dean, you haven’t told her?” 

All Dean did was glare at him and the others stayed silent, which only annoyed you further. “Tell me what?” you snapped, clenching your hands in your lap.

“I was waiting,” Dean managed through a clenched jaw, clearly annoyed.

“Will someone tell me what the hell you’re talking about? I’m tired of this, of all of you keeping secrets from me,” you snapped at them, looking around the table as your anger finally boiled over. When no one spoke up, you just got up and walked off, practically slamming the dining hall doors. 

Crowley sighed and nodded to one of his servants, who promptly followed you. The servant was a young woman with kind eyes, and she caught up with you just as you were starting to feel lost in the labyrinthine halls of the mansion.

“Miss, please allow me to show you to a room where you can rest. Your bags have already been brought up,” she said softly.

Too tired to argue, you nodded and followed her. She led you up a grand staircase and down a long corridor to a beautifully furnished room. “If you need anything, just ring this bell,” she instructed, indicating a small ornate bell on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” you murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed as she left the room.

Meanwhile, back in the dining hall…

Dean, still fuming, stood up, “We agreed to tell her when her mark came in more.”

Crowley shrugged nonchalantly, although he wasn’t pleased about his secrecy, “It slipped my mind. Besides, she has a right to know.”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t helping. How did she not notice one of the letters came in all the way?”

Dean sighed and sat back down, “She never looked in the mirror at it, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her to.”

“Son, she’s gonna be more hurt if you wait much longer,” John told him sincerely.

“Does she have at least an idea of how you’re connected to all this?” Crowley asked, although clearly frustrated, but needing further information.

“Not completely,” Dean reluctantly answered.

“Benny, did she even pay attention when Dean testified?” Sam asked, fairly puzzled how you wouldn’t have found out.

Benny sighed, “No. I was talkin’ to her. Tryin’ to help er’ relax a little.”

Crowley was usually a calm, collected man, but this frustrated him: "What does she know?”

Dean grabbed his beer, taking a sip before he answered, staring at the label, “I told her I know she’s my soul mate, part of the thing with Lisa, and that she’s an empath.”

“That’s it?” Bobby exclaimed in annoyance and frustration.

“That explains why she knows we’re hiding something,” Mary sighed, looking back at the closed dining hall doors.

“I didn’t want to make it harder on her,” Dean mumbled quietly.

“Dean, she has to be told, before her birthday, or it’s gonna hurt her more, and not just emotionally,” Sam told him, his tone soft but firm. “I know what I told you before, but she’s quickly running out of time.”

Dean’s attention went to the doors, his mind on only you and what you were feeling. He’d hated not telling, not letting himself get closer to you than you’d let him. He’d felt everything from the moment he’d seen you that first day at the bar, and it was tearing him up inside that you still doubted him. Sam had warned him of the risks of waiting too long, but he just hadn’t been able to find the right time and he didn’t want to do it once you two had gotten stuck in that bunker. “Dean, are you even listened?” Crowley asked him, frustrated and now leaning forward in his seat, pulling Dean from his thoughts.

“Yeah, I mean, no. I wasn’t listening,” he grumbled.

An annoyed sound left Crowley’s lips as he leaned back in his seat. “Her birthday is in two days. Either you tell her tomorrow, or I’ll have to make sure the doctor is here.” His tone was of concern for you more than for Dean.

Dean looked down at his beer, “She’s gonna hate me, but… I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“Son, she’s gonna be mad at all of us, but she’s not going to hate us, especially not you,” John tried to reassure him, feeling bad for what not only his son had to go through, but also what you have had to endure.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 15

Story Master List Main Master List

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @jamerlynn @jackles010378 @bruhidkjustwannaread @onthehuntforshinies

@chriszgirl92 @angzls @xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @onlyangel-444

@nancymcl @muhahaha303 @suckitands33 @kr804573 @justrandomthougt

@suckitands33 @mxtansy @scarletqueenx @krazykelly @roseblue373

@whimsyfinny @ladysparkles78 @aaathazagoraphobiaaa @hobby27 @perpetualabsurdity

@cicibunbuns @n-o-p-e-never @vanessa-boo @foxyjwls007 @uoberpmollah

@xolivvies-cornerxo @certainsaladstarfish @kdadss @bitchykittenconnoisseur @reignsboy19

@bonbonnie88 @ghostieghoul711 @flamencodiva @kayleezee @stillhere197

@lexasaurs634 @enamoredwithbella @winchester-whiskey @brandinicole911 @swaggyemily

@megs-gadom

If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[cosyvelvetorchid]

for a writing prompt,….Buck and Tommy get caught in the firetruck ( buck 1.0 style).

We love a bit of Buck 1.0. Enjoy! 🩶

*****

RATED: E

It was almost 3am. Bucks shift had finished 45 minutes ago and he was more than excited to be going home. Home meaning Tommy’s place. He was always excited to be seeing Tommy after shift but he was particularly on edge to see him tonight.

Literally.

All day Tommy had been teasing him with filthy messages telling him what he was to do with Buck after shift. Buck had spent the majority of the day riled up with half a hard on. One accidental brush to his dick from anyone or any thing and he would have exploded like an illegal firework.

But, because shit always happens when it’s the least convenient, his jeep wouldn’t start. Aside from Chimey who was working a double to cover sickness from a member of the B shift, everybody had already left so nobody could take him home. And being a Saturday night, it would be a wait for an uber.

Instead, he reluctantly called Tommy who, of course, immediately jumped into his car to come pick Buck up.

He walked into the station and Buck damn near came in his pants like a teenager at the sight. He was wearing the exact same outfit he’d worn on their first date—top 3 buttons undone on his shirt too— that he knew drove Buck wild.

“Hey.” His voice practically sang in the low gorgeous tone.

“God you’re so fucking hot.” Buck told him, trying desperately not to jump him in the middle of the station.

Tommy laughed. “I thought you’d like the outfit” he smirked.

“Understatement of the millennium.” Buck told him.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah I-“ An idea crossed Bucks mind. It was probably stupid, definitely reckless but so absolutely fucking hot. “Uh, did I ever tell you about how I got fired when I was a probie?”

“Yeah, you stole an engine to have sex.” He answered correctly. Buck raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s your poi- Evan. We are not stealing a fire truck to have sex.”

“Oh of course not.” He said stepping close to Tommy. “I just think it’s highly convenient there’s an empty engine in front of us and-“ he looked around the semi darkened station “-B shift are all catching up on sleep..” he reached up and opened the door. “And someone told me today that they were going to suck my dick so hard I’d see stars..”

“Evan, we can’t..”

“Well, I’m going to to get in the engine and take off my pants. What you do is up to you.” He stepped up into the truck and closed the door behind him.

Tommy stood for a second contemplating Evan’s suggestion. He couldn’t pretend it didn’t turn him on—he was flushed and half hard already. He looked around to make sure nobody was around and reached up to open the door. As he stepped up and saw inside his throat immediately went dry and his mouth filled with saliva simultaneously.

Evan was sat in the center of the back seat, naked from the waist down, legs wide apart, slowly stroking himself.

This kid was gonna kill him. Or get them both fired.

He shut the door behind him and shot forward grabbing Evan by the throat and crashing his lips into his. Buck whined at the feel of Tommys lips on his, and then at Tommys tongue taking over his mouth. His hand grabbed Evan’s cock and he continued at the rhythm Evan was going at.

“Fuck that’s.. ah.. good..”

Tommy moved his lips along Evan’s jaw, under his ear and down his throat. Nipping and licking as he travelled.

He hated to admit it but the thought of them getting caught was making his own cock swell uncomfortably in his own pants. Slowly his mouth travelled down Evan’s torso and groin. He licked the crease in the inside of Evan’s leg; his cheek lightly grazing Evan’s cock, who groaned at the touch.

“Please.. Tommy.. “ Tommy looked up, making eye contact with Evan as his tongue slid agonisingly slowly across to the base. Keeping eye contact his licked slowly up the underside of Evan’s cock, sucking in the head as he got to the top.

“Fuck!” Evan breathed out. Tommy still had plans for when they got home, so he wasn’t going to draw this moment out too long.

Without warning he took Evan whole in one go.

“Jesusfuckingchrist!” Evan called out, not being able to enunciate his words. “Holy.. ah!”

Tommy moved quickly; lips and mouth sliding up and down along the velvety skin. Evan’s cock was jabbing the back of Tommys throat and his hands grabbed Tommys hair, holding on for leverage as his hips bucked in rhythm, fucking Tommys mouth.

He was so fucking close to exploding down Tommys throat. He loved it when Tommy took his time teasing and playing and edging him into a bumbling mess. But something Tommy surprised him with an instant 0-60mph experience that drove him wild.

“God.. ah.. I’m so fuck.. fucking.. cl..close.. ah!”

He was right there . Right on the cliff edge, about to cascade over into a pool of absolute fucking heaven when the engine door suddenly opened.

“AAAHHHH! WHAT THE FUCK?!” Chimneys voice cried out. Buck and Tommy immediately separated; Buck clamouring to put his pants back on. He jumped out of the engine, not even bothering to put his shoes back on.

“Chim I’m so so-“

“No no no no!” He called back holding his arms up. “Don’t want to hear anything from you. Why? Buck. Why?! We have to work in that truck?! How many times have you done that?! Do you clean it afterwards?! Actually I don’t want to know!” He turned to walk away.

“Wait wait wait!” Buck shouted, running ahead and standing in front of him.

“It was the first time, I swear. And I-I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to, it-it just happened and-“

“You know how lucky you are that it was me that caught you and not cap? Or any of the B shift?” Chimney asked him. Buck couldn’t look him in the eye. “I’m going to let this one go and pretend it didn’t happen—mostly for the sake of the nightmares I’m inevitably going to have now, and the fact that your sister would be mad at me if I let you lose your job. So-“

“I swear it won’t hap-“

“Stop talking. So.. I’m going to walk away and the two of you are going to go home. But if it happens again I’m definitely going to report it to Cap. Understood?”

“Yes.” Buck replied immediately before Chim walked away. Just as he got most of the way up the stairs he turned back towards Buck and Tommy. “Oh and Buck! You better clean in there be for you leave. Maybe use bleach.” He shivvered.

“I think that just put a dampener on our evening.” Tommy said.

“You wash your mouth out Thomas Kinard! You are going to take me home, and we’re going to finish what we started.” He walked quickly out of the station towards Tommys car.

“Yes, Sir.” Tommy replied to himself before following.

[falloutboylyricss]

Fall Out Boy and Colors

Evening Out With Your Girlfriend

none

Take This to Your Grave

"I'm good to go for something golden" - Saturday

"These friends are, new friends are golden" - Homesick at Space Camp

"My insides are copper, I'd kill to make them gold" - Sending Postcards From a Plane Crash (Wish You Were Here)

"My heart is on my sleeve, wear it like a bruise or black eye" - Chicago Is So Two Years Ago

"All the colors of the street signs, they remind me of the pickup truck out in front of your neighbor's house" - Chicago Is So Two Years Ago

From Under The Cork Tree

"You look so good in blue" - Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner

"We're traveled like [nomads] only with worse luck and far less gold" - Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year

"With your backless black dress soaked to the skin" - Champagne For My Real Friends, Real Pain For My Sham Friends

"Someone old, no one new, feeling borrowed, always blue" - I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me

"This story's getting old, the homewrecker with the heart of gold" - Snitches And Talkers Get Stitches And Walkers

Infinity On High

"At night, we're painting your trash gold while you sleep" - This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race

"Kissed teeth stained red from a sour bottle baby girl with eyes the size of baby worlds" - I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)

"I sing the blues and swallow them too" - Hum Hallelujah

"How cruel is the golden rule when the lives we lived are only golden-plated?" - Golden

"Her nose runs ruby red, Death's in a double bed" - The (After) Life Of The Party

"Racing through the city, windows down in the back of yellow checkered cars" - Bang The Doldrums

"There's too much green to feel blue" - Fame < Infamy

"Lips pressed close to mine, true blue" - G.I.N.A.S.F.S.

"Trade baby blues for wide-eyed browns" - G.I.N.A.S.F.S.

"Blackmailed myself, 'cause I ain't got anyone else" - It's Hard To Say "I Do", When I Don't

"I've got the red carpet blues, baby" - It's Hard To Say "I Do", When I Don't

Folie à Deux

The (Shipped) Gold Standard (title only)

"I've got a lot of friends who are stars, but some are just black holes" - 27

"Oh, baby, you're a classic, like a little black dress" - Tiffany Blews

"I want to get stuck and be golden in your memory" - w.a.m.s.

"The infrared scope on pointlessness" - West Coast Smoker

Save Rock And Roll

"Silver clouds with gray linings" - The Phoenix

"Because the world is just a teller and we are wearing black masks" - The Phoenix

"Wave the white flag" - The Phoenix

"And when she touched him, he turned ruby red" - Where Did The Party Go

"Your hot whiskey eyes have fanned the flames" - Miss Missing You

"She's his suicide blonde, she's number than gold" - Rat A Tat

"I kept wishing she had blonde ambition and she'd let it go to my head" - Rat A Tat

"As alone as a little white church in the middle of the desert getting burned" - Rat A Tat

"She's sick and she's wrong, she's young dirty blonde" - Rat A Tat

PAX AM Days

"Every time I see you, I just want to paint the walls white" - We Were Doomed From The Start (The King Is Dead)

"You're just a black widow who fell in love with herself" - Hot To The Touch, Cold On The Inside

American Beauty/American Psycho

"Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold" - Centuries

"Overhead of the aqua blue" - The Kids Aren't Alright

"I always fall from your window to the pitch black street / And with the black banners raised as the crooked smiles fade" - The Kids Aren't Alright

"I got those jet pack blues" - Jet Pack Blues

"And I'm trying to find my peace of mind behind these two white highway lines" - Jet Pack Blues

"She's in a long black coat tonight waiting for me in the downpour outside" - Jet Pack Blues

"This is a black, black ski mask song" - Novocaine

"If you knew, knew what the bluebirds sang at you, you would never sing along" - Novocaine

"Take this sideshow and all its freaks and turn it into the silver screen dream" - Novocaine

"And I confessed, confessed to you riding shot-gun underneath the purple skies" - Favorite Record

"Live with me forever now, pull the blackout curtains down" - Immortals

"And there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on" - Twin Skeleton's (Hotel In NYC)

MANIA

"You were too good to be true, gold-plated" - The Last Of The Real Ones

"I'll stop wearing black when they make a darker color" - Wilson (Expensive Mistakes)

"These are the last blues we're ever gonna have" - Bishops Knife Trick

So Much (For) Stardust

"It's open season on blue moods" - Heartbreak Feels So Good

"Running middle fingers through the red lights" - Hold Me Like a Grudge

"Fever-dream tangerine sweat" - Hold Me Like a Grudge

"Take a knife and cut through the darkness, castle-temp red wine" - Fake Out

The Pink Seashell (title only)

"Orange leaves, but we're the ones falling off trees" - Baby Annihilation

"Oh, I'm going neon in the night-time" - What a Time To Be Alive

"I got the quarantine blues, bad news, what's left?" - What a Time To Be Alive

Misc.

"Boxed blondes have less fun" - Lake Effect Kid

"Fyre Fest, Black Parade, Michael Phelps, Y2K" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"SpongeBob, Golden State Killer got caught" - We Didn't Start The Fire

"Jeff Bezos, climate change, white rhino goes extinct" - We Didn't Start The Fire

[wanda-widow]

Wait For Your Love

Civilian!f!Reader x Male!OC, Avenger!Bucky x Civilian!f!Reader

listened to "We Can't Be Friends" and decided to write on a whim.

Word Count: 1k

Summary: After loving one person that felt like your everything, you can't find it in yourself to love someone else the way you should and they know it. A run in with the person you loved most doesn't help your case much either.

Warnings: divorce, angst, bad writing (sorry it's my first time)

Don't forget to like and reblog 🫶🏻 please don't copy my work

To say that you had no luck in the relationship department was an understatement. Not one of those cliche “oh, I can’t find love, I’m hopeless” situations, but the kind where you couldn’t find yourself loving someone after you were in love for the first time.

Your first and quite possibly only love was the man you ran into the street one Sunday afternoon in Bucharest. The man that had eyes the color of the ocean in the sunlight and a smile that could warm your insides like hot chocolate. The man who was Bucky Barnes himself, the infamous Winter Soldier, the noble Sergeant. But all that put aside, he was your Bucky, your James. Yours.

Yours until one morning, you went to his small apartment to find it wrecked with no sight of him. Bullet shells littered the floor and the wood was broken near a corner of the room. You didn’t see him since, but he was always a lingering “what if” in your mind.

6 years later, your fourth attempt at love had landed you in a marriage that barely seemed to hold itself together. Owen, your husband, was constantly busy and on days that he wasn’t, all the two of you seemed to do was sit around. “I love you’s” had become a barely heard statement, the efforts to try and rekindle what was once a blooming romance falling flat. Maybe it was partially your fault, looking for what you loved in Bucky in other people. You fell in love with Owen because he had made you feel seen, made you feel that warmness you felt when you were with Bucky, a rare gentleman in a messed up society. A rare gentleman who reminded you a little too much of a certain someone. A rare gentleman who wasn’t Bucky and who didn’t quite love you anymore.

Your eyes fell on the overdue divorce papers on the kitchen counter, various bills and letters covering the majority of it. A full year had gone by since Owen had filed for divorce and yet, neither of you had signed it yet. Gently pulling it out from the stack, you sighed as you ran your fingers over it before reaching for a pen.

“Dammit” you sighed softly, signing your name carefully at the bottom before placing it on the kitchen table where he would see it when he got home for work. Walking to your bedroom, you took in the house one more time, gaze lingering in places where you and Owen would cuddle for hours, make meals, and just be in love. Finding your suitcase in the closet, you packed your essentials before leaving your house keys on the table, leaving the house for good.

Deciding to get some food before you crashed at your friend’s house, you found a small sushi bar and parked your car, entering the shop.

“Welcome to Izzy’s, just take a table anywhere or come sit at the bar” A bartender called out as another staff member ushered you to the bar and put the menu in front of you.

“The California roll’s here are good. Basic, I know, but you gotta try them” A warm voice came from your right as you looked up, nodding and looking back down at the menu before doing a double take. Short brown hair, slight stubble, the same ocean blue eyes and charming grin. The same man you fell in love with all those years ago.

“Bucky?!” came the loud response before you could stop yourself, face flaming red from your loud exclamation as he drank you in, putting the pieces together as well.

“(Y/N)... I uh… it’s been a while” he said quietly, turning so that his stool now faced you, sliding the menu over to the server and ordering for you before looking back. “How have you been?”

“How have I been? How have I…” you scoffed, hand coming up to rest on your head, mind reeling from the sudden change of events and the sheer audacity that he had to ask how you had been after running 6 years ago. To be honest or to lie through your teeth, you went with the latter. “I’ve been stuck wondering every night where you had run off to, James. Better yet, my marriage just ended because he didn’t love me anymore and he…” He wasn’t you. I only loved liked him because he was kind of like you. “We just didn’t work” you ended flatly as you stared at the counter.

“That night…” he started to say, throat bobbing as the memories started to flood back. “I ran because I had to. Fuck, if I could be with you without the risk of your safety, I would, (Y/N).”

“Bullshit on the risk of your safety” you retorted, jaw clenched as you remembered the news announcing that he had gotten a full pardon, that he was partnered alongside the new Captain America. Pushing down the hurt and the longing, you shrugged. “It’s fine, guess some things are better left in the past.”

“Doll, c’mon” he said quietly, watching as you shoved a piece of your California roll in your mouth to avoid talking. “Give me a little time to make amends, gather myself after the whole Flash Smashers situation. A-And then we could try again? Start as friends, see where that goes… I…” Sadness flashed on his face for a moment when he saw how dejected you looked. “Please?”

“Maybe”

“Just a couple months wait. Even less if I push through it” He said earnestly, raising an eyebrow as you shoved another piece of sushi in your mouth, waiting for you to swallow.

“I’ll think about it”

“Remember when we used to cuddle on the small mattress in my apartment. You’d make little hand shadow puppet shows for me until I fell asleep” Bucky pushed on, feeling hope bloom in his chest when a small smile tugged at your lips. “And sometimes we’d sit on the balcony and wait for the stars to come out while we made up constellations because Lord knows we don’t know a single one.”

“Okay” you whispered, eyes finally meeting his. “I’ll wait for your love”

Authors Note: Thank you so much for reading! Appreciate all of you so so much 💗

[mysteriouslyjovialcolor]

Mexico 2024

-I’m calm, I’m calm, I’m calm, I’m so calm

-I LIED, I AM NOT CALM

-Aaaaaaaah, okay let’s go (The race doesn’t even start until two minutes from now)

-Valterri holds the race record here as well? Asking once again why he’s in a Sauber

-Esteban from the pit lane? What happened there?

-Okay, okay, okay can’t think anymore, we’re starting

-Max!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Yuki???? Whaaaat??

-Carlos where are you going???

-Ohmygod Safety Car

-Alex out too!!

-Aaah so much chaos!!!!

-Oh that replay makes the crash looks so much worse then it looked before

-Oh wow, well done Checo. That was unexpected.

-“Unfortunately for Yuki Tsunodo, I don’t think he did anything wrong there” WHYYY

-“Sergio Perez is being investigated for a false start” I- I take whatever I said before back

-Cars weaving behind the safety car>>>

-I’m surprised Oscar hasn’t gained positions yet

-Franco has though!

-Ah Carlos!!

-The top three are so close together now!! Top four I think actually!!

-Oh god, not again with these two!

-Charles???? Ever the opportunist!!

-“Both Verstappen and Norris have handed this on a silver platter to Ferrari”

-10s penalty for Max

-Red Bull just catching Ls this week

-“10! That’s impressive!” This guy

-George and Lewis!

-Ferrari teammate drama incoming?

-Fernando Alonso retiring??? Oh his 400th race weekend?? So unfortunate

-“Keep it clean. You have a good place. Keep it clean” Oh we’re racing babyyy

-“Quite an impressive job the Haas team are doing” yessss!!

-Liam and Checo!! Oh I’m loving how much drama is happening here right now

-Wow Checo is really driving hard

-20s penalty. I will cry

-Oscar and Franco?!! Yessss! Omg this is so exciting!!

-Back to crying

-Yay Oscar! Mans just moves in silence

-So much crying. Why am I still watching?

-“This is turning into a nightmare weekend for Red Bull. A lot of it, no, in fact all of it, self-inflicted” Big sigh

-Hate when any of the Haas drivers pit and then they lose position and then sometimes they don’t regain position and then I’m sad

-Can’t afford to be more sad than this, need at least my midfielders to do well

-At least Max is back in the points. We can be somewhat happier.

-If you had told me that the multi-championship drivers (Lewis and Max) might be about to race each other I would think they’d be racing for top positions and not for p5 or p6

-Oh Charles potential undercut on Carlos? Him winning would cause so much drama, I feel it. (I secretly want it)

-“One more lap guys, come on, one more lap”

-So much pit stop strategy afoot

-I was distracted, how is Lawson p4??

-Not him still fighting Oscar

-“Mate think about pulling me out of this” I feel you Oscar (I actually don’t but I can empathize)

-Liam “cork in the bottle” Lawson!

-Yess Oscar!! Lewis too!! Double overtake!!

-Kinda expected there to be more of a fight between Max and Franco

-How has Max done a better recovery drive than Checo? What’s wrong with Checo’s car fr

-“I had a big misfire out of Turn 3” ???

-Nico back in points 🎶

-Aww Franco having car problems :/

-I guess the people are about to get what they want and Oscar is about to play the team game

-“McLaren not trying to use him to hold off Max Verstappen in any way shape or form” I’m so confused???

-Go Kevin Magnussen!!!

Ohmygodd Nico back up too!!

-Why do these two always run together?? It’s hilarious how evenly matched they look

-“Miserable Mexican Grand Prix for Sergio Perez” I feel for that guy, I really do

-“Taking away fastest lap” The things Daniel Ricciardo does to the sport

-“20s gap back to Russel” Mercedes?? Fight back??

-Franco and Oscar pt2! He’s so impressive, Franco

-“George, we are free to race here. Let’s give each other room”

-“There’s young Kimi Antonelli” He’s so tiny!

-Franco fast lap. I hope he gets to keep it this time.

-How is Lewis stuck behind George for so long?

-Aah no!! Nico lost a place :(

-Oh god Charles vs Lando incoming. I can’t watch this

-“We need your best driving now, let’s go” Aaaaaaaah

-Seriously, how is Lewis still stuck behind George?

-“In the olden days, they would’ve done something about this at Mercedes” Righttt

-Poor Franco, lost the fast lap again

-“This is not going to be the easiest fight in the world, up against Charles Leclerc”

-Aaaaaaaaaaah

-I’m actually going to cry

-OHMYGOD NO!!!

-That could’ve been so much worse tho, at least he got back in

-Haas is having such a good race, I’m so happy

-Have to acknowledge George’ defense…

-Finally!!!! Let’s go Lewis!!!

-If Carlos wins this race, it would be his second race with Lando coming 2nd (…I would have two pennies, which wouldn’t be a lot but it’s strange that it happened twice…)

-“Chasing down the man he started a bromance with” Carlando alive and kicking

-Liam Lawson fast lap lol

-“Only man to have won from pole position”

-Lol fastest lap contest

-“He’s not playing second fiddle to anyone is Carlos Sainz”

-Let’s go!!! He manifested this!!!! He got his one last win in Ferrari!!!!!

[jessicaloons]

Chapter 2:

Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you…

Masterlist - Previous - Next

5. October 2014:

Charles and I sat huddled together on the floor, backs leaned against the sofa. Dad in the armchair on the left, Hervé on the sofa, Arthur rolled up like a cat behind us.

"They shouldn’t race under this conditions, it’s not safe!" Hervé exclaimed and Dad nodded.

"They already stopped it to wait! They just should cancel it…" Dad agreed and Charles shook his head a little.

"It looks like they can still drive on the track, no?" he said and I nodded lightly.

"Yeah, but the sight for the one behind? Look at the spray! You don’t even want to close up the gaps because you don’t see any…" I began as one of the Sauber’s spun off the track and crashed into the barriers.

"Oh shit!" Arthur murmured behind us.

They waved a double yellow flag and Dad and Hervé scoffed.

"They should wave the red flag! There’s a crane next to the track! And why no safety car?"

We watched as the crane lifted up the sauber as a second car veered towards the same run-off area where the crane was and crashed right in it’s left rear wheel, the cameras cutting away from the crash site.

The livery showed exactly what team’s car it was.

"Who is that? Did you see?" Charles sat up abruptly, I saw the number of the car, 17.

"Charles… that is Jules…" I almost whispered as Hervé turned the TV volume up to listen to the broadcast properly.

I turned to look at Charles who paled and stiffened, then I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, he slowly turned to me, we both heard how the commentators said that Jules didn’t respond to his radio, and for the first time since I knew Charles, I saw something new flicker in his eyes: fear.

17. July 2015:

"Ok, calm down!" I tried to level Charles hot head but he just threw his helmet on the ground.

"He pushed me! Twice! Because of him I lost 3 positions! How was I supposed to get back up their in one lap?" he was fuming, understandably so.

"I know, but when you’re like this, it won’t help! You need to calm down!" I tried to reason with him, but he just scoffed.

"Calm down? Lizzie! He’s supposed to be our fucking teammate! But he always pulls shit like that? The last 3 races where all fucked up by him! I can’t afford to DNF that many times! I need good results!" he hissed and unzipped his suit.

"Charles, I know that all! But he is our teammate! You think you can’t effort some DNFs? We’ll think about being kicked out! So please! Calm down!" I grabbed him by his shoulders and he looked at me.

"He‘s still a little fucker!" he pouted.

"That he is!" I answered und hugged him.

"I just need to show the sponsors that I’m good and have potential! It’s so important!" he whispered and I sighed.

With two sons in motorsport, money ran out and Charles’ parents had to decide that for now they could only finance one career. Charles continued, as the older one and with having slightly more potential than Arthur, it was decided. Charles hated it and promised Arthur he would give his all to impress some sponsors and hopefully be able to get him back into karting and more.

But right now, it didn’t look too good as one of our teammates, Martin, was more than reckless and didn’t gave a shit whenever he kicked someone out of the race.

"I just want to leave." he stated and looked for his stuff, threw all his belongings in his backpack and then looked at me. I sighed and packed my stuff up as well.

"Let’s go, Charlie bear." I said and pushed him as he just groaned.

"You know how much I hate it when you call me that!" he glared at me.

"You secretly love it, just admit it!" I said and gave him my sweetest smile as he rolled his eyes.

"I just need to think of a name for you that you hate!" he said and we walked out where my brother was waiting for us, alone.

"Where’s the rest?" I asked him and Charles looked up from his phone and dropped it, paling instantly.

"I’m so sorry Charles. Your parents are already on their way, Mum and Dad are on their way and picking up Arthur, we’ll meet them in the hospital." my brother said it quietly and approached Charles then pulled him into his arms. I bent down, picking up Charles’ phone and saw the message from Lorenzo "Jules est mort" Jules died. We all knew that it didn’t look good, his condition had deteriorated. But still. He was there in some way. But now he was gone.

I stood there and didn’t know what to do, what to say. Over the last few years Jules became like another older brother to me, although our relationship never even close got to the connection that Charles and Jules had. Marcus released Charles and he stood there, silent tears rolling down his cheeks. I grabbed his hand and intertwined our fingers, then we followed my brother to the car.

The drive to Nice was quiet. No one spoke, no music was played. I sat next to Charles in the backseat and held his hand. He didn’t move once, he just stared out the window. As we parked in front of the hospital, Marcus called Dad and a couple of minutes later my parents parked next to us, as they got out the car I saw how Mum slung an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. His eyes glassy, nose red. My Dad hugged Charles instantly.

"We’re waiting here for you. Just close family and friends. We don’t want to interrupt." my Dad explained and Charles nodded, Mum gave Arthur a kiss on his cheek and then did the same with Charles.

I stood next to Marcus who pulled me to his side and kissed my temple. As they started walking away Charles looked up and turned around, he looked at me.

"Can you come with me? Please, ma belle?" he said and stretched his hand out, I nodded and hastily stepped up and took his hand.

"Thank you." he whisperd and we walked into the hospital.

The funeral reception was attended by almost the entire F1 grid and some big names of the motorsports community. Even TV crews were around and I hated how they zoomed in on Charles and his family, rude reporters were yelling questions their way. During the whole morning, on the way to church, inside and on our way out, I held Charles hand and never let go once. Whenever I saw that it all overwhelmed him I gave his hand a gentle squeeze and as he looked up I smiled encouraging. When we were sitting on his bed in the evening, tired and exhausted, he looked at me for some time and I cocked an eyebrow.

"What?" I asked quietly.

"How did you do it?" he asked and I looked at him confused "How did you manage to be so… so put together? He was important to you too! But you were just so… why weren’t you crying?" his voice was hoarse but it almost sounded accusatory.

"Don’t say it like that! Don’t think I didn’t cry! But I just… I wanted to be strong for you! I wanted to be there for you! I know how important he was to you! How much you loved him! And I was just… we were not like you…" I whispered as a tear slipped down my face and Charles looked heartbroken.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, ma belle! I just… you were so strong! I just didn’t know how you could be so strong when I was just so… I’m sorry! I’m sorry, that you thought you had to be strong for me and couldn’t just… ahhh I’m losing my English!" he said it with more and more frustration. Then he pulled me in his arms "I don’t know what I did to deserve you! I’m sorry that you thought you had to be strong for me! And I’m sorry for not being there for you, like you were for me!" he whispered and I hugged him tight.

"We’re always there for each other! You and me together!"

"You and me against the world!"

"Always!"

The weeks after Jules death weren’t easy for Charles, he was getting more and more frustrated with the situation within the team, or more with Martin. It was one week in September where the tension in the team got to a point where our coaches and supervisors finally had enough and sat Martin and Charles down and for some reason I had to participate too in this crisis meeting, not really knowing why.

"Why is Lizzie here? She has nothing to do with this!" Charles asked what I wanted to know.

"She’s here because she’s always caught in between you two! Last race she lost 3 positions because you two were fighting each other and made contact with her! And she’s here for you Charles, because when she’s around your attitude changes for the better!" Matthieu said and I rolled my eyes, while Martin just grinned.

"Wipe that grin out of your face! You’re the reason we’re here in the first place! Why the fuck can’t you be a team player?" I was furious.

"Lizzie!" Matthieu groaned.

"No Matthieu! It’s the truth! Since we’re racing for you, has there ever been a problem? No! He joins the team, behaves like an ass from day one, acts like he’s the king and we have to bow! Pushes us off the track and says then afterwards it was the adrenaline! He didn’t see us? Or we were in his line? It’s unfair!" I had to contain myself to not scream. Charles grabbed my hand under the table and squeezed it.

"I think what Lizzie wanted to say, is that we never fought that hard within our own team, but you for some reason think we have to make way for you on the track! But we don’t, especially when we’re in front and you can’t pass us and the only way for you is to push us off!" Charles said, trying to sound calm but firm.

"I don’t see a problem, I’m obviously better than you! And I’m not making way for you or your little girlfriend, Leclerc!" Martin spat and Charles slammed his fist on the table.

“You don’t have to make way for me or my little girlfriend, BECAUSE WE ARE ALWAYS IN FRONT OF YOU!!!" Charles was furious and I could see that it wouldn’t take much for him to lose his temper completely.

"Yeah, sure Leclerc! Matthieu, I don’t care about them, I’m here to show that I am the best, that’s why a team from GP3 will approach me soon and then I don’t even care what you’re doing… Lizzie you won’t make it into any higher league, Leclerc.. well we’ll see." he sneered and I took a deep breath, I actually didn’t wanted to say it already, but I was fuming.

"Just so you know, Martin, I was approached by the Art Grand Prix Team and I will drive for them in GP3 next year…" I said and Martin’s eyes widened. Charles next to me inhaled sharply and I looked at him apologising but he just grinned.

"Yep and I will be her teammate next year… so, you were saying?" Charles smirked at Martin who got up and left.

"What just happened?" I looked at Charles who just pulled me into a hug.

"I didn’t wanted to tell you, because you haven’t heard something and I… I don’t know I just wanted to wait until you also got a seat!" Charles mumbled and I laughed relieved.

"Same! I was waiting for you getting a seat!" I answered and Charles chuckled.

We both then congratulated us at the same time and we laughed even more. Matthieu cleared his throat and we looked sheepishly at him.

"I’m so proud of you both! When they called and asked some questions about you I just knew that they would approach you both! You will be missed!" he said and got up and hugged us.

"But what are we doing now with Martin?" I asked and he shook his head.

"I’ll handle him, don’t worry! We’re only having a handful of races left for the season, we’ll deal with him!" he said and laughed.

Charles and I left and walked to where our parents were.

"So, GP3 next year?" I asked.

"GP3 next year, F2 the year after!" Charles answered and I just laughed and he pulled me into his side "You and me, against the world, Lizzie!"

"Always!" I replied and he smiled at me. And not for the first time I felt butterflies doing summersaults in my stomach.

"I swear to god, if I break any bones because of you, Leclerc, you’re a dead man walking!" I yelled and Charles only shook his head and breezed away on his ski’s. I leaned forwards and quickly caught up to him "We’re dead if they find out where we are!"

"Oh come on! It’s not our first time on a black slope!" he yelled back and accelerated and I followed him.

"But this is an orange one!" I yelled and passed him easily on my snowboard, then raced down the slope. As I arrived in the valley and waited for Charles I saw Lorenzo and Marcus talking to some girls, thankfully they hadn’t seen me and as soon as Charles arrived next to me I ushered him away.

"Why are we hiding behind the ski lift?" Charles asked taking his shades off.

"Because our brothers are there! When they see that we’re here instead of the slope we told our parents we would be, they’ll snitch on us or use it as leverage!" I answered and he nodded.

"Good thinking, Doetterer!" he said and I peered around the corner.

"They’re leaving!" I said and Charles nodded. "Let’s go back to the château, we’re already late!“

We stood together on the patio, everyone with a glass of champagne in hand.

"10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Happy New Year!" we were all cheering as the fireworks down in the village started. Charles pulled me close and hugged me.

"This is going to be our year, ma belle! We show the world that we’ll make it into F1, just like Max did!" he whispered and then kissed my cheek.

"You and me against the world." I whispered, trying to ignore the heat that spread on my face from his kiss.

"Always!" Charles replied and hugged me even tighter.

"Look at our two lovebirds… I think we really can start with the planning of their wedding!" Pascale said quietly to the others who all watched us.

"These two idiots are so oblivious! They will need years to realise that they’ve always belonged together!" Dad shrugged and they all started laughing, startling Charles and me and we looked over to our families, who were pretending to not notice us watching them.

"What does that mean exactly?" I asked in Italian and Charles next to me smiled proudly at me, for the past years he did his best to teach me Italian.

"You will basically be kind of our test and development drivers, drive for Haas or Sauber in some FP sessions, work in the simulator, be contracted to us for a considerable time." Massimo said and Charles looked at me, then our Dad's.

"Contracted to Ferrari?" my Dad asked and I’m jealous that his Italian sounds flawless.

"Yes, if the opportunity arises a promotion to Formula 1 might be possible in the future!” Massimo answered and I looked at Charles with big eyes.

"Surely you mean into a Ferrari powered partner team for the beginning?” Dad stated and Massimo nodded.

"Of course! A seat in Ferrari must be well earned and as a rookie it’s not easy to secure a seat at a top team! That’s why we have with Haas and Sauber our partnered teams!" Massimo said, Dad and Hervé looked satisfied.

"So? What do you say? Will you join the Ferrari Driver Academy?" he asked me and Charles and we looked at each other, then smiled.

"Where do we sign?" we both said in unison and Massimo handed us some documents and a pen each.

"He would be so proud of you, you know?" I whispered and Charles looked up "Starting in GP3, now a member of the Ferrari Driver Academy!"

"He would be proud of both of us…" he answered and I smiled. We sat together on the balcony of our hotel room, watching the setting sun "When will you leave?"

"Our flight is in the morning, Mum insist that I come home for the tutoring sessions…" I mumbled and Charles laughed quietly.

"Come on, only a couple more weeks and then you’re done!" he encouraged me and I nodded.

"I can’t wait for it to be over! I get it, she wanted me to graduate school, but I honestly don’t even know what I would do other than racing!" I answered and Charles chuckled as Dad stepped onto the balcony.

"You guys ready?" he asked and I nodded.

"Let’s go!" Charles said and got up "Pasta time!"

"Pizza and Pasta time!" I said and we followed our dads to our car.

At the famous Ristorante Montana we were greeted not only by Massimo, but also Sebastian and Maurizio Arrivabene.

"Lizzie! It’s so good to see you!" Sebastian said and hugged me "Charles, good to see you too!" he patted Charles back and then greeted our Dads.

"So you’re the future of Ferrari?" Arrivabene said and Charles and I got caught off guard "I’m just messing with you, I mean not entirely! We expect great things from you! But for now, let’s enjoy tonight and in the next weeks we will see what to do with you!"

With that said we had an amazing evening together. Talking about the upcoming races in GP3, some races we could attempt later in the year. Meeting Ferraris second driver Kimi Räikkönen, Ferraris last world champion. As we said our goodbyes and got back in the car Charles and I could only smile from ear to ear.

"Oh come one, Lizzie! It’s just 4 days!" Charles whispered and hugged me tighter.

"That’s not the point! I just don’t want to go home and have 3 days full of tutoring! Can’t we start celebrating on Saturday? 3 day bash for an 18th birthday?" I answered and Charles laughed.

"Nope! You’re coming on Monday and then we’ll celebrate!" he just said and I only nodded, hugged Hervé goodbye and together with Dad I went through the security check.

"Little owl, you should smile! You’re starting in GP3 in 2 weeks, you’re now a member of the FDA, you’re turning 18 on Monday! Cheer up, would ya!" Dad tried to brighten my mood and I shrugged my shoulders "I know you don’t like tutoring, but it’s only a handful of days and then you’ll have your exams and you’re done with school!” the thought of that made me smile.

He was right. Good things were about to happen…

————————————————————————

Little Note:

That’s it, chapter 2 is out - a bit sad, but it’s a part of Charles’ life, therefore part of Lizzie’s 😔. But Chapter 3 is going to be a really funny one! And for the first time we’ll have a little bit of Charles' POV…

Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I’m dying to hear your thoughts! I’m open to any criticism, bad or good, it doesn’t matter!

If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment!

Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please forgive me any mistakes I made!

All pictures are from Google, Pinterest, Instagram, etc.

[starboybutler]

Chasing Cars

ao3 link

summary: bucky can't find a reason to get out of bed anymore. gale comes to him one night, and he's reminded of why he's fighting.

word count: 6451

warnings: bucky's crumbling mental health, gale's crumbling mental health, curt's death, slight eating disorders, depressive episodes, smut towards the end

notes: wow this was supposed to be pure smut but i accidentally plotted on my porn because i felt like being sad. oh well have this kinda character study thing i wrote purely on a whim

bucky hadn't left the bed.

he couldn't find a reason to. the rest of the men were outside, gathering wood. training, doing god knows what else to prepare for a plan that would never play out. after some brits had made their escape attempt, the amount of german pricks on duty almost doubled. that, and morale had pretty much gone down after they had said the captured escapees were executed. no one even wanted to make an attempt anymore.

they could talk about escape all they wanted to– it would never happen. they would try, fail, get shot, and get buried somewhere on enemy territory. hell, odds were good that if they waited it out the same thing would happen. so why bother?

he had been staring at the wooden slats of the bunk above him for about an hour, now. this felt familiar, at least. as he lay here, he could pretend he was back in base between missions, talking to curt about whatever was going on in their muddled brains.

“it was a close one today. don't want anymore missions like that for a while.”

“that's just how it is, bucky. they’ll only get tougher, y’know. but i think we got it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. i’ll be tellin’ my grandkids about this one day, y’know. don't seem like it now, but i promise it’ll be a distant memory soon.”

always so optimistic. that was one of the last late-night conversations he had ever had with curt before he went down. he never even got to say goodbye to him. he’ll never forget the pure dread he felt when he asked buck about him, and he didn't have an answer.

sure, bucky could have believed he was alive with every fiber of his being, but that didn't change the fact that curt was dead, crashed somewhere over unknown territory, most likely to never be found.

so much pain, so much death. and for what, he would wonder. what was he really fighting for anymore?

“hey,”

a soft, low voice, like honey. all too familiar.

he looked up, faced with gale, who was just about the only friend he had left at this point. even then, he felt as if buck was slipping from his grasp at times. tensions were high, and he had yelled at him more than he would like to admit.

just yesterday, they got into it outside. john was at fault, he absolutely deserved the punch to the face gale gave him, but neither of them had spoken to one another afterwards. john was never good witth apologies.

“hey,” he said back, the bruise on his cheek left by the blonde throbbing dully as he made eye contact with him for the first time since their scuffle.

“you just gonna lay here all day?” gale asked, his tone not angry or accusatory– just soft and genuinely curious, laced with just a tinge of worry.

“that's the plan,” he replied, shrugging. “nothin’ else to do. unless you wanna punch me again.”

gale stiffened a bit, his lips twitching as if he were trying to find the right thing to say, before he just sighed heavily.

“i’m worried about you.”

bucky shut his eyes, a sigh of his own escaping his chest.

“i know.”

it fell quiet between them. john had closed his eyes so that he couldn't see gale’s sad baby blue’s boring into him, urging him to roll over and show him his most vulnerable parts like a dog begging for attention. for pity.

he knew gale was worried. he knew it before their fight, and he knew it now. gale wasn't an idiot. far from it, actually. he was intelligent and observant, which was why he was such a damn good pilot. he saw john’s pain before john felt it. he saw it in how john would lash out at anyone that looked at him wrong, and how he would toss and turn in his sleep at night.

“you haven't eaten in a few days.”

“i know,” bucky said again. he couldn't bear to imagine gale’s expression. “i’m tired of the same shit. if i see another potato i’ll puke.”

“bucky.” gale hissed, voice urgent. “i’m being serious.”

“so am i.”

he hadn't eaten in about three days. ever since his last serving of the same bland bullshit, he decided he would rather starve than touch it again. so what, if he lost a little weight? that seemed to be the least of his problems right now.

he didn't care anymore. he just didn't care if he withered away inside this stalag surrounded by his men. that seemed to be the most honorable thing to do at this point- because at least then he'd be around people that knew him, and celebrated him. he'd rather die here and now, miserable, than drag it out and die alone in enemy territory with no one around.

“okay, bucky.” gale mumbled, clearly on edge already and not in the mood to argue. “just…i’ll be outside with everyone else. you should eat some dinner tonight.”

the blonde stalked off, expression and gaze steely and distant as bucky rolled back onto his side, facing the wall and sighing tiredly.

night rolled around and he didn't drag himself out of bed for dinner. he couldn't. the urge to eat, to get up and walk and be active wasn't there. his will to survive had vanished.

gale wasn't the only one worried about him. he heard everyone muttering to one another behind his back as they ate the slop that was served to them half-heartedly.

‘he doesn't look good at all.’

‘i know. when’s the last time he left his bunk?’

‘hush and eat. he can probably hear you.’

bucky didn't care what they were saying. whatever it was, it was probably true. maybe word around the stalag was that major john egan was a spineless, worthless, gutless piece of shit that gave up on everyone around him when they needed him most. harsh, yes, but not necessarily wrong. john was acutely aware of how him laying in this bed, rotting for days on end was selfish to his men. he knew that they were looking to him for guidance, and all he was giving them was a depressing display of self pity.

his mind drifted back to curt. he would always tell bucky that he was one of the strongest and most resilient people he had ever met, and how he would give anything to be as half as stubborn as him.

bucky always shot back that stubborn didn't necessarily mean good, but curt refused to see him in a bad light under any circumstances.

“i got you a bowl.”

gale’s voice. he glanced over his shoulder, gazing at the metal dish that gale was holding in his direction. same meal they'd been served for the last few months. the rumbling in his stomach wasn't even a bother to him anymore.

“thanks buck,” he hummed, turning to face the wall once more. “but i’m not hungry.”

silence fell over the room, tense at bucky’s blatant refusal of the food gale offered. he heard a short sigh from his friend, as well as a scuffing of his shoe against the floor as he turned on his heel and walked away.

he felt his stomach sink with guilt, but he really wasn't hungry. what was the point of eating, prolonging his survival when he would most likely die in the very bunk he was laying in? the thought made his appetite disappear.

he pulled the thin, scratchy blankets they were given over himself, clutching it in his hands tightly as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to this reality.

honestly, it might have been.

𓆩✧𓆪

days and days passed him by. he wasn't able to shake the dread that had begun eating at him days ago. in fact, it seemed to have consumed him whole by this point. he only left the bed when he was instructed to by those goddamn guards, or when he had to use the bathroom. he didn't get up for food, water, to exercise, to speak to friends, nothing. he was not interested but a shell of the outgoing, confident man he used to be.

gale had kept trying to get him to leave his bunk, or to at least put some food in his system. he would bring a plate of food for him every night, and bucky would refuse it all the same. he would tell him that the others were asking for him, but bucky just brushed it off. if they were really worried, they knew where to find him.

only a few other men besides gale came to check on him during the day, hambone being one of them. he started talking about how different things were without him around. it was quiet, and no one really liked it all that much. they missed his snarky comments about the german guards and how he would shit talk them all day. that got a little smile lut of him, he had to admit that. what got him feeling serious again was when hambone started talking about how gale was taking his absence.

“he’s been quiet. way quieter than normal.” he said, voice dropping low. “only says one or two words to everyone before…he just shuts down. goes into autopilot. it's not really like him.”

and he was right. after he had said that he kept think about gale, how he was probably out there with god knows how much on his mind, and for bucky to only be adding to that…

what was he doing?

was he really causing buck that much distress? the thought made his stomach sink with guilt. gale already had so much on his mind, and for bucky to act like a petulant child and add onto all of that stress and anxiety and pain he’s been bearing for the entirety of the men trapped here was so unbelievably shitty.

what kind of friend– what kind of man did something like this to his other half– his rock, his one source of sanity in this camp, in this war?

he curled in on himself further, self loathing and dread curling their ugly black tendrils around him, engulfing him in a pitch black abyss.

he felt so, so sick all of a sudden.

𓆩✧𓆪

“word is there's gonna be another march in a few days,” hambone dutifully informed him, leaning against the creaky wooden wall and staring out the window, into the yard.

bucky was actually sitting up in his bunk today, idly fidgeting with the little radio gale had crafted a few days earlier in his hands. he hadn't actually spoken to buck, finding himself unable to think of anything of value to utter to him.

“again?”

“mhm,” he mumbled, fiddling with the dirty sleeve of his sheepskin. “apparently allies are real close. gale caught word of that last night on that radio. not sure when the germans caught wind. might happen tonight.”

bucky grimaced, setting the tiny radio on the cluttered table, sighing and squeezing his eyes shut at the prospect of walking for days on end just to get to another shitty camp, and rot there for god knows how long. he hasn't eaten in a good week, and he knows his odds of surviving the march on an empty stomach are little to none.

“thanks for tellin’ me,” buck said softly, standing from his bunk and making his way towards the door, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as he stepped outside for the first time in weeks. immediately, he felt eyes on him from all angles.

‘major egan?’

‘he’s okay!’

‘christ, i thought he died…’

he smiled humorlessly, making his way over to the water pump and grabbing one of the metal jugs, placing it under the tap and filling it up with slightly murky water and sighing to himself. he hadn't seen gale yet. a small part of him was hoping that buck would be the first person waiting for him, but he also wasn't in a good headspace to talk to him right now. he didn't know what to say to him, after knowing all the torment he had put him through with his little episode.

he turned the tap off, exhaling deeply and picking up the jug– flushing when he struggled a bit due to the weakness that came with staying in bed and not eating in about a week. he lifted it on the second attempt, huffing and hauling the jug back to his bunk.

out of the corner of his eye, he saw gale, encouraging some men to push a little harder to break the ground using that damned contraption- whatever it was called. he tensed at the sight of him, speeding up his steps until he was safe back in his bunk.

he set the jug down heavily, not even thirsty anymore. that night march could kill him, for all he cared. maybe then gale’s problem’s would be solved.

he laid in his bunk miserably, jug discarded as he thought of gale. he deserved the world, he deserved to be happy, to live a life without having to worry about him being a sad sack of shit, wallowing in his self pity. he did his best to try and keep his spirits up, but he couldn't help it. he didn't have anything to look forward to anymore. life just seemed like a whirlwind of misery and he didn't know how much more he could take. so many friends lost, so many people dead.

maybe when he died, gale would finally move on, lose that stress that came with knowing him. he could only hope.

𓆩✧𓆪

john had lost track of time long ago. he only knew day and night, and occasionally he was told what month it was.

he knew it was late, evidenced by the snores of all the men around him, and how the room was pitch black. the moonlight didn't reach his bunk, leaving him alone in the darkness to stare up at the wooden slats of the bunk above him.

he heard shuffling from somewhere in the room, then the creaking of floorboards as someone moved towards his bed.

“bucky?”

gale’s voice rang in his ears, making him go completely still as if he were a scared cat. maybe he was dreaming, and the gale beside him was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, spurred on by hunger. but when gale didn't leave, he turned to look at the blonde with tired eyes.

“yeah?”

“can’t sleep,” he said softly, and the bags under his eyes seemed to prove it. “mind if i bunk with you tonight?”

bucky wanted to say so many things. ‘of course you can.’ ‘no, i don't want you to get too attached to me if i’m bound to die soon.’ ‘i love you.’ but all that came from him was a little “uh huh,” as he scoot over to make room for the blonde.

he felt his mattress dip, and a familiar warmth crowding at his side. he almost jumped up at the almost desperateness of it all, half expecting gale to just lay by him and turn the other way. the blonde wrapped his arms around his waist, a surprising amount of muscle on them from the training they had been doing in preparation for an escape, and buried his face into the nape of his neck.

it was dangerous to be doing this here, with everyone in the room. anyone could wake up and they'd probably kill them on the spot before the nazis could. no one would accept it– two respected majors, cuddled up together like shy newlyweds in the middle of a shitty stalag, when they should be leading their men, training them, helping out in some way. but, as gale tightened his arms around john, holding onto him as if he'd disappear if he let go, he found that he could care less about what everyone would think of them.

“buck,” he started, voice soft, as soft as it's been in a long while. “what–”

“i’m scared, john,” he whispered, trembling ever so slightly as he pressed closer, like he was trying to become one with the other man. “i’m trying so hard to keep up appearances, to lead and be strong, but i’m scared.” he admitted, fingers digging into john’s side.

john was shocked into silence for a minute. gale was always so well put together. he never cracked under pressure, he just didn't. up in the air, when his engines were out and his crew was panicking, he would land that b-17 like it was nothing. ‘no engine cleven’, they called him, and he just smiled in that shy little way of his, heading to the barracks to sleep off the shock and do it all over again.

he'd seen gale shaken up a few times. when they landed in africa, he was quiet. quieter than usual, anyway. he was staring off into the distance, eyebrows drawn together slightly as he worried that damned toothpick in his mouth until it snapped in two.

but for gale to admit that he was scared was…unheard of. he wasn't the type to show or admit his emotions too openly, none of them were. but being here and eating the same bland shit, not knowing if you're ever gonna get to go home, and watching the last of your friends die during nighttime marches to a new camp did something to you. it broke whatever spirit you thought you had left.

“gale, hey-” he whispered, turning on his side and gently cupping the blonde’s face, watching as tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his flushed cheeks. “hey, look at me. none of that,”

he used his thumb to wipe away his tears, tilting his chin up so that the blonde’s glassy eyes met his. he hated seeing gale cry. he hated knowing that all this time, he's been in pain, the weight of all of these men in camp on his shoulders, counting on him, and all john has been doing is making it worse.

“i’m sorry,” gale sniffs, hiccuping softly, breath picking up as john pulls him close, allowing the blonde to hide in his chest and inhale his scent. “fuck, i’m sorry. i just don't know how much longer i– if i can do this anymore.”

those words put fear into john’s heart. if gale, the brains, the brawn, the heart and soul of the very operation to get them out of here was losing hope– what did that mean for them? were they truly doomed to die in enemy hands, holding onto the hope that allies would somehow manage to sneak close enough to the shitty camps they were held hostage in and launch an attack on the germans?

he knew most of their thinking was extremely wishful, but it was something. a little glimmer of hope in a dark, gray times. for buck, gale was that glimmer of hope– that thing he held onto when all else seemed to fail him. even when he felt he’d die here, at least it would be with buck.

he couldn't let gale give up like this. not for his sake– hell, not for everyone’s sake. if gale gave up, he gave up. and if he gave up, everyone else would give up. a hell of a burden to carry on top of everything.

“gale,” he said softly, taking both of his slender hands into his large ones, caressing the backs of his knuckles with his calloused thumb. “gale, you've gotta keep going. without you, this whole thing would fall apart.” he said, nuzzling closer to him.

“i can't save everyone, bucky.” he hiccuped, trembling in little fits and starts, shattering john’s heart as he watched. “i can't even save the person that matters most to me. if i can't do that then–”

“you don't need to save me.” john said harshly, much more harshly than he intended to. he saw gale wince, and he immediately regretted being so harsh. “i mean– you don’t– i’m just like this. nothing you can do about it, buck. it’s not your job to fix me, okay?”

“i want to. i want you to be okay, bucky. i want–”

he sniffled, nuzzling his hot, tear-stained cheeks into bucky’s large hands. “i want you to be okay. i want you to be there with me, no matter what. i just– we've lost so many men, john. so many. but i still have you. i can save you, i can help you. i just….i need to make you feel better than this. i need you to know how much you mean to me.”

bucky was stunned into silence. he spent all this time thinking gale loathed him for his behavior, wishing he was dead and gone so that he had one less thing to worry about– but gale just spilled his guts to him about how john was the most precious thing in his life right now. not marge– him. him. it made his heart swell with something ugly.

“i’ll always be with you, buck.” john said softly, stroking his blonde locks, once soft but now slightly gritty with dirt and grime from their time in the stalag. even with limited supplies to take care of his hygiene, gale managed to outshine every single one of them in terms of beauty. “what’d i say? if i’m gonna bet on anything, i’m gonna bet on us. y’hear me?”

a shaky little exhale left gale’s mouth, pressing his face into john’s chest like a boy seeking comfort from his mom after a scary dream. john didn't say anything else, just held gale close as he sniffled and sobbed into his chest until he cried himself to sleep, soft snores leaving his pretty pink lips in soft little puffs.

he felt a surge of overprotectiveness wash over him as he watched the blonde sleep, curled into his body and clutching one of john’s hands close to his chest. he didn't need to feel sorry for himself anymore. he needed to be there for gale, so that he stopped carrying these burdens on his shoulders. they were a team, always have been. always will be. nothing in this godforsaken place could change that.

𓆩✧𓆪

john got up the next morning, careful not to disturb gale, who was still sound asleep next to him. he was on his side, almost completely curled up on himself with his thumb pressed against his lips, biting at it idly.

john smiled softly, eyes filled with a fondness for the blonde as he shuffled into his shoes, heading out into the daylight to grab some rations for the both of them.

last night was extremely sobering for him. he had spent so much time wallowing in his self hatred that he hadn't realized that his neglectful actions towards himself had been affecting gale in a negative way. when his friend came to him, crying and sobbing, worried for his wellbeing, insisting that he was the only thing that was worth fighting for anymore, he knew he had to get it together.

he went to the service counter and asked for two servings of food, saying that his friend was still asleep and that he would wake him up when he got back. who would lie for extra slop anyways?

he was given two plates, and he hurried back to his bunk, where a few of the other men began to stir awake, including gale.

“mornin, boys,” he said, setting down his two plates on the lightly cluttered table. “food’s gettin’ served up. go grab some.”

they all let out a noncommittal groan as he sat down at his bunk, digging into his mean of bland potatoes. it didn't taste any better than the last time he ate it, but he’ll be damned if he wasn't hungry.

gale sat up beside him, blinking the sleep from his eyes, which were slightly puffy from crying. his baby blue’s landed on john and widened as he saw him scarfing down the bland mush.

john smiled at him. “mornin’,”

“you're eating.” he said, voice quivering slightly.

he shrugged slightly, stirring the mush around absentmindedly. “got hungry. craved potatoes. you’ll never guess what the canteen was servin’.”

gale was on him in a matter of seconds, hugging him tightly and pressing his face into his shoulder. he was trembling, a shaky exhale leaving him as john set his plate down, returning the hug and smiling against his shoulder.

“thank you.” he whispered, voice so heart-wrenchingly vulnerable.

“don't count on it.”

𓆩✧𓆪

gale bunked with him for the next few nights, out of pure need for comfort and reassurance. he was obviously happy that bucky was eating again, but he was still stressed with all of the ongoings in the camp.

bucky had stepped in and gave a hand in training, instructing the men in what to do and how to do it, but there were just so many of them. on top of that, those german bastards were always waving their guns around, yelling at them whenever they felt like it. john had almost gotten into it with a few of them, but gale har talked him down.

what would he do without him?

“you need to be more careful when you talk to the guards.” gale said, idly smoothing down the fabric of john’s thin sleep shirt, which made john’s chest fill with warmth.

“to hell with those guards.” he muttered angrily, looking into gale’s eyes with a steely determination. “i just got my spirit back. i ain’t gonna let these nazi bastards destroy it again.”

“they'll shoot you, bucky.” gale said softly, looking up at him with a hard gaze. “zero hesitation. they've done it to other men before, and they’ll do it to you.”

“and then they’ll have a hell of a riot on their hands.” he laughs softly, which made gale sigh and press his forehead to his chest.

“why can't you just be good?”

the words caught john off guard, making his cheeks flush and his heartbeat kick up a notch. he felt his heartbeat pick up whenever gale was close to him like this, but it was a pace he had gotten used to, honestly. but hearing gale tell him to be good in a soft voice– as if he were speaking to a dog made his heartbeat kick up in another way entirely.

“uhm,” he started, face flushed a soft pink, hands finding gale’s waist and fidgeting with the hem of the blonde’s shirt. “i can– i can be good, i jus’...”

he was stumbling over his words painfully obviously. he was hoping that gale couldn't see the flush on his face in the darkness of the room, but knowing his luck he probably could.

“what's wrong?” gale asked softly, eyes lidded as his hands halted on john’s broad chest, thumb idly brushing across the fabric of his shirt in soothing little circles. “your heart is beating really hard.”

“nothin’.” he said, way too quickly for it to be true. “just. hot. i ‘unno.”

silence fell, save for the sounds of breathing from the men around them, and their own soft breathing. john really took in gale in this moment, how soft and vulnerable he looked.

his sleep shirt was loose on him, thanks to him losing weight in the camp over the months they’ve been here. his eyes were soft with sleep, lips pink and plump and parted with each little breath he took. god, he was gorgeous. he wanted nothing more than to take him on the bed right now, make him cry out his name so that everyone in the room knew who he belonged to.

he’d had these thoughts of gale since they met in basic training, but they had only gotten worse the longer they stayed in camp. back on base, he was able to keep his mind off of gale, or at least quell his desire by picking up some desperate broad in a bar and sleeping with her. but now, he looked at gale and could hardly keep his mind out of the gutter. he hated it.

“hot, huh?” gale chuckled softly, hands running up john’s chest and resting on his shoulders. “you're a bad liar when it comes to me, y’know that?”

john flushed darker, hands tightening on gale’s waist and pulling him closer, careful to keep their lower halves apart so that the blonde didn’t feel his erection through his shorts. “i’m not lying.”

“mhm?” the blonde chuckles, leaning closer to him, invading his space so that their noses touched, breath mingling together as they stared at one another tenderly, something more carnal and desirous underneath. “why're you hard then?”

bucky choked on a gasp, his face completely red to the point where he was sure gale could see it, even in the dark. their lower halves weren't touching, and yet, gale had known. read him like a book.

“how’d you–?”

“you have a thing you do,” he says, thumb rubbing at his collarbone gently. “you stumble over your words. start touchin’ things with your hands. fidgeting. sometimes it's more noticeable. its a lot less noticeable when you hit on girls at a bar, but i picked up on it.”

john huffed, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and averting his eyes. he wasn't expecting gale to call him out so straightforwardly. it made him embarrassed. he also didn't expect gale to trail a hand down to the hem of his shorts, dipping his cool fingers inside and making john gasp sharply.

“want me to take care of it?”

“gale,” john hissed, eyes wide as the blonde’s nimble fingers trailed lower and lower, scratching at the wiry hair just above his hard cock. “our men are all around us. they might hear us.”

“then you'll have to be quiet, won’t you?”

a strangled noise left john’s throat as gale wrapped his thin fingers around his hot, hard length, giving a tentative squeeze. a shuddery breath left deep from bucky’s chest, his hands squeezing gale’s waist so hard he was bound to leave bruises.

“that good?” gale whispered, shuffling his boxers down and letting john’s cock free completely, swiping his thumb across the head and gathering the precum there so the friction of his hand was less harsh. bucky didn't have it in him to answer coherently, so he just nodded and bucked his hips upwards into gale’s touch.

it was intoxicating, the way his fingers occasionally caught under the sensitive head of his cock and made his cock jerk and leak even more, all over gale’s pretty hand.

“see? look at you.” the blonde cooed, eyes lidded and practically glowing as he gave a twist of his wrist on the upstroke, relishing in the little groans and gasps bucky let out. “you can be good for me, why can't you be good out there? i know you're a good boy, bucky. such a good dog.”

“jesus christ,” bucky swore, stomach tensing up and cock leaking into gale’s palm thickly, precum making the glide of his palm slicker. “i’m gunna cum- oh, god, buck–”

“shh,”

the blonde scolded him lightly, free hand moving to cover his mouth firmly as he jerked him off faster, the wet, slick noises coming from between them downright obscene. he felt like a girl getting laid in her bedroom, her parents right next door as her boyfriend fingered her so good she couldn't help but whine and whimper.

he didn't have time to warn gale as he shot off, thick ropes of his spend painting buck’s chest and stomach a pretty pearlescent white. when he pulled his shirt up, he didn't know.

he came down from his high, and found gale’s lips on his. he kissed back, gentle and hungry at the same time, like he wanted to devour gale whole. he pulled him close, choking out a gasp into the kiss as he felt gale’s erection press into his hip.

“buck,” he panted, letting the blonde thrust against him minutely, the little pleased noises he let out going straight to john’s spent cock, bringing it back to life. “lemme– lemme make you feel good.”

gale exhaled sharply, rolling his hips against him more desperately, now. “please.”

john flipped them over so fast that it gave them both whiplash for a moment. it was short lived, though as he was faced with the sight of gale’s hard cock straining at his boxers. john’s large hands spread the blonde’s thighs apart, tugging his boxers down his hips and letting his pretty pink cock spring free from its confines.

john was on him in an instant, licking at the clear bead of precum that gathered at the pretty pink head. gale gasped softly, his breath shaky and deep as john laved his dick in attention, running his hot tongue along the vein that adorned the underside, sucking at the tip, doing anything but taking it in his mouth yet– to enamored by the sweet little noises gale was making.

“john, please.” buck whimpered, voice soft and needy as he thrust upwards, cockhead sliding against bucky’s wet lips. “please,”

he begged so prettily. who was he to resist?

he finally took gale into his mouth in one go, nose nestled into a small thatch of blonde pubic hair just above his dick. gale bit back a moan, hands flying into john’s pretty curls, gripping them so hard that he was sure he ripped a few strands out. the sting made bucky moan around gale’s length, bobbing his head slowly.

he loved every little noise that left gale– the little gasps and quiet keens as he drooled around his cock, eyelashes fluttering as the tip of his cock nudged at the back of his throat. he wishes that he could hear gale at full volume, whining and begging for more– but they couldn't. not here.

“such a good mouth,” gale moaned, voice breathy and deep and so smooth to his ears, melting his brain as he pulled off his cock completely, licking at his dripping slit and collecting his precum with his tongue. “fuck, wish i could keep your mouth on me all day. keep you quiet. fuck–”

hearing gale cleven, straight edge, no gambling, hates sports gale cleven talking dirty to him like this sent shockwaves directly to his cock. he took him all the way back into his mouth, groaning deep in his throat as he ground against the rough sheets of the mattress, brows furrowed in concentration and pleasure as he took hold of gale’s slender hips. he felt so filthy, so needy and desperate for anything gale would give him, like a stray dog begging for food.

he wanted anything gale would give him. affection, hatred, love, loathing– he was hungry for all of it, for him. his cock was amazing on his tongue, hot and heavy and velvety, leaking in copious amounts down his throat as he swallowed every last drop of him. he could feel gale spasm in his throat, close to orgasm, and he found himself feeling greedier by the second.

“jesus christ,” buck gasped, hips lifting from the mattress, hand tightening in john’s curls, pulling him down onto his length frantically as his stomach began to spasm and tense up. “i’m– i’m gonna– john–”

his throat was flooded with gale’s spend, and he worked his throat around his sensitive cock dutifully as he swallowed it all. it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, it made him hot, it made his brain melt, it made him needy for more–

he felt his cock spill against the sheets, a small whimper caught in his throat as he rode out his orgasm.

when he came to, he was aware of gale whimpering from overstimulation as he absentmindedly suckled at his cock.

“john, please,” he whined, trying to pull free. “enough.”

bucky pulled off, cheek resting on his thigh stickily. they were both panting, faces flushed and eyes glossy with aroused tears. they locked eyes, and john couldn't help the surge of emotion that overcame him as he shot up, capturing gale’s lips in a soft kiss. at this moment, everything felt like it would be okay.

“we should clean up,” gale mumbled against his lips, panting softly. “made a mess.”

“yeah,” john agreed, kissing him again, quicker this time. “think we can score new sheets?”

“we can jus’ move to my bunk for now. toss these sheets aside for morning laundry.” gale hummed, yawning softly and rubbing at his eyes like a sleepy little kid. how he could be so goddamn cute after doing something so filthy was beyond him.

“alright,” john hummed, watching as gale tucked himself into his boxers. “lemme wipe ya down first.”

john untucked a corner of the bedsheets, using them to wipe at gale’s cum stained torso gently, gale squirmed under the attention slightly, blushing at the way john was looking at him, full of love and reverence, like he hung the sun and the stars himself.

once he'd finished, he let gale stand and move back to his bunk, allowing john to rid his bed of the stained sheets and toss them aside for laundry. he'd find an excuse later.

he made his way to gale’s bunk, reversing the roles and cuddling up to gale, nuzzling into his neck and sighing deeply. gale smiled softly, hand carding through his hair gently.

“next time, we’ll try to make less of a mess,” he mumbled, voice deep with sleep as he pulled john closer.

“next time, huh? you fantasizing about it already?”

buck rolled his eyes, and bucky didn't miss the faint flush on his cheeks.

“i’m just saying. it’ll be nicer. maybe it’ll be in a proper bed, without all these people around. just the two of us, in our own bed,” he mumbled, eyes drifting shut. “just us, bucky.”

“buck–”

he didn't get to ask what he meant. he had already fallen asleep, snoring softly into the darkness of the room. buck went silent, pressing his ear to buck’s chest and listening to his steady heartbeat as he mulled over his words. his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.

maybe they would get out of here. if it meant he and buck would have a promising life together, he would be damned if he died in one of these godforsaken camps.

he would make it. for them.

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unsolicited 20

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, oral/noncon, coercion, cum, some untagged sexual and dark elements.

Wouldn’t mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

Masterlist

Your cheeks are flushed with heat as the server returns with your entrees. Lloyd shamelessly keeps his hand nestled between your tingling thighs, clamped in an attempt at modesty. He sits forward to eat with his free hand as you can barely keep your head from wobbling. You feel as if everyone in the place has witnessed your undoing.

“Mmm, better get it while it’s hot,” he scoops up a mouthful of season potatoes, “I’m not spending money for nothing, babe.”

He pinches you before finally removing his hand. He takes his knife, not bothering to wipe the glisten from his fingers, as he cuts into his filet. You slowly sit up as your eyes flick over to Colin as he reads over the bill.

He avoids meeting your gaze but you’re happy for it, humiliated and hot. You pick at the lobster tail with your fork and peer down at your plate. This night couldn’t be over soon enough.

“Aw, don’t pout, baby, I’m just getting started,” he bites into a chunk of juicy beef, chewing noisily.

“Hey!” There’s a shout and the clatter of a tray as empty dishes crash onto the floor. You look up as a man shoves a waiter out of his way, skidding on his soles as he stops beside Colin’s table, “what the fuck is going on here?”

Your mouth falls open as Lloyd reaches for his whiskey and finishes it with a pop of his lips, “looks like he got my message.”

“What?” You look at him as he watches with delight.

“Tell me you haven’t dreamed of this. Look at the coward, he’s about to piss his pants.”

“Wh–why?”

“Oh come on, you should be thanking me,” he leans back and drapes his arm over your shoulders, “in fact, you’re gonna thank me. On the way back. When we get there. And so on. The night is young, sweet cheeks.”

You look back to the scene across the restaurant, reminded of the night you came and Colin left you alone and nearly sobbing. The words he said to you then and after. The accusations that proved to be little more than projection.

For once, you agree with this douchebag at your elbow. He deserves this.

“That’s my fucking wife!” The much bigger man drags Colin out of his seat. Your husband couldn’t be called small but he was shorter and more slender than the bull shaking him by his collar, “my slut of a wife!”

Those words sting and you tilt your head. You know what it’s like to be on the receiving end yet you can’t feel sorry for the blond grabbing onto the angry man’s arm. She did this. They both did. They ruined two marriages for what?

“Do you ever come here without making a scene?” You lift your cocktail and drain it until there’s only a few chips of melted ice.

“I don’t do quiet,” he shrugs and goes back to his meal, “and I like a show with my dinner.”

You sniff as a gaggle of waiters try to calm the raging man throttling your husband. The mention of police moves the rabble towards the door but not without chaos. Table wobble with the impact of the intertwined man as heels click in their stead, following the fight outside.

“I need another drink,” you put your glass down, “preferably a double.”

Lloyd raises his hand and whistles, “garcon.”

You cringe and sink down lower. His quick response would be flattering if it wasn’t completely patronizing.

💎

Your stomach is unsettled, the pasta sitting like a lump as your anxiety flickers in your chest. You sit back in the low car seat and frame your forehead with your hand. A nice relaxing shower somehow ended in you being wound tighter than before.

"Baby, better keep me awake, you don't want me falling asleep at the wheel, do ya?" Lloyd says as he steers out into the street, giving his stomach a slap, "god, that was good, wasn't it?"

His hand slips down and he flicks his belt. You straighten in your seat as his eyes flash at you in the rearview. You repress your agitation and reach between the seats, bending over the stick as you pull back the tail of his belt.

It's just one thing after the other, you gripe inwardly, this man will never let you relax. Never let you catch your breath.

You unhook his belt and open his fly. You want to get home and go to bed. He's just a man, you get him off and he'll be ready for the same. He's hard as you reach beneath the fabric, unsurprised by his lack of briefs.

You take him out and stroke him mechanically. Men are easy when they have their pants down. Your husband proved that. With his own boss. His ex that he never shut up about. You should've known. You were never good enough and now look at you.

You push your mouth around him, grazing him with your teeth.

"Eh, put some love into it," he flinches and rests his hand on your head, "fuck."

You loosen your throat and grimace around him. You bob up and down, the noise making you sick, stirring the storm already whirling in your stomach. He clutches your air as you ignore the ache in your jaw.

Your eyes water at the sudden awareness of yourself, of what you're doing, of how you won't stop. You have nothing and this man made sure of that. Tonight wasn't a favour, it was just another reminder of his power over you.

You drag your tongue up and down, flicking around his tip. You wiggle your nose and force back the haze of tears. No, he won't see you like that. He's seen enough. You're just buzzed, maybe a bit depressed.

You bring your hand up and work him diligently. He groans and swerves as he squeezes his fistful of hand.

"Jeez, baby, you're gonna get us in trouble," he chortles and shoves you down, "ah, you little slut, you already got me ready to blow."

He takes over, guiding your pace as his fingers stretch over your skull. He drags you along his length and groans.

"Yeah, you gobble that dick," he slithers, "I'm gonna cum and you're gonna drink it up, yeah…."

He pushes you to his limit and his hips buck. He snarls and slams on the break, spilling down your throat as he sputters. He grips the wheel tight and holds you in place and drowns you until you're gagging.

He lets you go and you sit up, coughing as you spit up his cum. You fall against the leather as your body vibrates and you cover your face in shame.

"Please," you rasp, "I want to go home."

"Home," he shifts back into gear with a scoff, "what home?"

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels: Chapter 3

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI!!!)

Word Count: 1400

Summary:Miguel was consuming your every thought and it's becoming an issue. You wonder if he's having the same problem.

Warnings: Smut- Male (Shower) masturbation, Sexual frustration, Pinning, tension, Angsy as hell, learn a little more about reader's life, J. Jonah Jameson is in every universe Notes: I just realized I never said that the 'shared spider-sense' theme of this fic is entirely inspired by the relationship between Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, or more commonly known as Silk. They were both bitten by the same spider and share a spider sense, making them drawn to each other and ALSO able to track the other through the multi-verse. Silk is a an awesome spider character. 10/10 recommend checking out her comics (But I say that about every comic) I'm not sure Miguel and readers connection will be exaaaactly the same since they literally couldn't have been bitten by the same spider, but yeah. This is a totally cannon thing spider people can do 😅

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Series Masterlist

AO3

-

Chapter 3

On My Mind

The restaurant was busier than you’d like, but really everywhere in this city was. Busier just meant louder, and louder meant earplugs for you. After having advanced hearing for nearly a decade you’d gotten used to it by now. You didn’t want to spend all night asking people to repeat themselves because you could over-hear everything that was happening in the restaurant. Right now you just wanted to be with your friends— unfortunately, your mind kept drifting elsewhere. 

Since you returned to your dimension 3 days ago, Miguel has consumed your every waking thought. Your daily hero life was suffering for it. You lost 2 robbers last night and missed a car chase this morning because you were too stuck in your own head. You were never one to get distracted on the job— and by a guy no less. 

 I should have stayed in the training room. I should have stayed longer and maybe we could have…

You’re not entirely sure what would have happened, honestly. This was uncharted territory. Some undefined connection only between the two of you? An innate sensation that drove you to horny madness. It sounded like a bad comic book plot. You’d probably had weirder things happen in your nearly 10-year-long spider career but this was by far the most frustrating.

Just the thought of him invaded your every sense. The deep rumble of his voice. His distinctive, rich smell— Like red wine. The taste he left in your mouth. 

You wanted him. You wanted him so badly, and you hated how much you wanted him. You didn’t even know anything about him.

Fuck Miguel O’Hara and whatever the fuck he was doing to you. 

But Miguel was a Spider-Woman problem.

Tonight you didn’t want to be Spider-Woman. You wanted to forget your interdimensional side gig and the broody, gigantic man that was driving you insane. Tonight you just wanted to be a good friend— and you were failing miserably at that too. 

Your best friend Jack wrangled his boyfriend, Ash, and your college friend Sue to come out for drinks and your mind couldn’t be further away.

“Hey, space cadet!” Jack snaps his fingers directly in front of your face. You’d been staring at the same potted plant across the room for probably 5 minutes now. You crash back to maddening reality. 

“Sorry, what?” you reenter whatever the conversation was now with a pitiful smile.

“Ash asked what’s new at the paper,” Jack repeats the question you never heard. He gives you a worried look. Jack knew about your double life. He’d known you for so long now, you couldn’t hide anything from him. He'd catch it whenever something was slightly amiss before you could even articulate a single word— thus why he lined up this friend's night in the first place. You’d been reclusive since you’d joined the multiverse. 

“Oh, at the Bugle?” You take a generous swig of your cocktail, “Jameson’s still behind on the times, I think. Keeps trying to push papers instead of giving our digital department more funding. I’m still only making stuff for print. Like, do you even remember the last time you even read from a newspaper?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I ever have.” Ash snorts.

“Maybe in high school,” Sue taps her chin, “And even then it was for like an assignment.” 

“People still need paper-mache supplies!” Jack interjects.

“Hey!” you playfully shove him, “That’s my entire industry you’re shitting on, sir!”

“Oh, so you’re defending the infamous J. Jonah Jameson now?”

“I’m but a lowly graphic designer,” you clarify, “The only thing he wants me to do with his precious paper is not look too much like The Times .”

You’d landed your job at The Daily Bugle in college. An internship turned full-time staff position. You’d gotten Jack some freelance work there on the side. He was seemingly the only photographer that could get a halfway decent picture of the mysterious Spider-Woman. He always gave you a small cut of whatever Jamason was willing to shell out. You didn’t know how to work a camera for crap, but you knew how to pose for a picture.

The evening rolls on with a pleasant demeanor. It was nice to be talking to non-spider people. To listen to the casual ramblings of your friend's completely ordinary lives. That new bitch at work or their mother calling one too many times a day. You envied them, honestly. It’s been so long since you could just simply live . This night out was a small taste of what you’d been missing. Connection. 

And, of course, it gets ruined. 

The nearby wail of sirens penetrates through your foam earplugs. They were maybe 3 blocks away. Once you hear it, you can’t unhear it. All conversations fall dead in your ears, your focus now entirely on the possible imminent danger to your city. The sirens are getting further away now.

A vibration from your phone in your pocket catches your attention. You check it under the table. A text from Jack. 

‘Sidejob thing?’

He always texted you in code about Spider-Woman business. He must have seen your face go placid, even though he can’t hear the distant sirens. You give him a faint nod across the table and he glances to the door— His silent message loud and clear. 

What are you waiting for? Go.

You know Jack did his best to understand, even if he never truly could. You had a duty. It wasn’t just a job, but who you were. You could never just stand idly by.

You quickly make an excuse about forgetting a deadline and shimmy out of the booth, leaving a few bucks for your meal. So much for no Spider-Woman tonight. 

____

Fuck you. Get out of my head.

Fuck you. Get out of my head.

It had become his mantra for the last few days— of course, it didn’t help anything, but cursing you gave him some minor vindication. 

He found himself in the shower 20 minutes longer than usual, attempting to give himself some kind of relief. The thought of you waiting on your knees for him clawed at his mind. He stroked his painfully hard cock to the image, now forever burned into his retinas. 

He never got distracted. It wasn’t in his nature. He prided himself on being the best leader he possibly could be. Attentive, knowledgeable, a team player— and for the most part, he was. Now you had come and thrown a wrench into all of that.

He should have known from the first time he saw you this would be a problem. It caught him completely off guard, but how could he have been prepared for… whatever this was? He was in the midst of building an empire, and there you were, as casual as ever— and so clearly just as confused as he was. A spider-sense suddenly manifesting? Ridiculous.

As soon as you locked eyes, he knew this was all because of you.

God, you were beautiful.

There had been few times he let his instincts take hold of him. He’d made himself into an apex predator in search of his spider abilities— he had to hold himself to a different standard than the rest of you. He was dangerous, and whatever this connection is, was dangerous in turn. 

He couldn’t control it, not yet anyway. And seemingly, you couldn’t either. You were both prey to your most primal desires and irresistibly drawn to the other to satisfy them.

He couldn’t escape your assault on all of his senses. He was fixated on you in every way imaginable. Your smell, your voice, your looks— your taste. 

He cums to the memory of your soft thighs squeezing his head. He heaves shaky breath after shaky breath, trying to gather his composure. It was hollow, fleeting relief. He can’t help but think you could have made it better— He knows you’d have made it better. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the foggy glass and is immediately disgusted with himself. 

He’d never been this way before. You were part of his team, a fellow hero that decided to join his league. He was your boss, for lack of a better term. This couldn’t go on. At least not the way it was currently.

He needed answers.

He was a scientist. It was time to do some research.

[lowkeyrobin]

Oneshot where reader is Stevie's Older sibling and it gets angsty cause of the car crash and Stevie fucking DIES which then leads to reader basically lashing out on both their mom and beother and then blames fuckshit and is basically screaming because stevie was basically their child and is just crying over Stevie's body🧍(I made this too angsty for no reason...)

-♣️

you're crazy for this wth. ; listen to is it really you by loathe for this one ; also happy birthday to me!!! I'm 16 now 😔🙏

STEVIE ; is it really you?

summary ; in the crash, your little brother stevie is killed

warnings ; language, sexual jokes/innuendos, car crash, death, fighting

disclaimers ; no romance/all platonic, no established relationship other than siblingship between reader and stevie ; reader and stevie have different fathers obviously so you can look whatever you want to look like

track ; is it really you?, loathe

word count ; 2.6k

masterlist

"C'mon, c'mon! You can do it!"

"Oh my God, I did it!"

"You fucking did it!"

"I did it!"

Stevie runs to you, pummeling you into a hug. You spin him around, his feet of the ground as he laughs and smiles.

"You did it! I told you that you could!"

"I did it!"

He was able to figure out how to balance himself on his hand-me-down boogie board from Ian. He'd been practicing on the side of the road basically all night, trying to figure out how to ride it and not fall off within five seconds.

He looks up at you, a smile painting his face. His bare chest is sweaty, his little prepubescent body heaving as he begs his lungs for air. He hugs you again, burying his face in your chest, as he's much smaller than you.

"Thank you" He mumbles

"For what?" You ask, an eyebrow raised in confusion as you pat his back, just under his left shoulder blade. "You're the one who did it"

"For believing in me, and taking care of me" He answers, looking up at you again. "Love you"

"Love you too, kiddo"

"Ew, don't call me that" He chuckles.

"Sorry, I un-hipped myself. I'm not a cool kid anymore." You dramatically sigh, throwing your hands up in defense.

"You're so weird"

"Don't say that to the one who feeds and clothes you, little man"

"Don't be such a dick, Ian" You grumble, pouring some milk into your bowl of cereal. "We all know it was you"

"Shut the fuck up!" He whisper-shouts, like your mother would ever believe his word over yours or your youngest brother's. "Who eats cereal for dinner at nine?"

"Me, because I have a job, Ian. You should invest in one. Use your time wisely." You reply, an attitude lacing your each and every word.

"Shut the fuck u-"

"I'm paying for that dumbass field trip, pal. Close your mouth." You sternly speak, getting him to effectively shut up.

Your mother turns back to him and sends Stevie into the kitchen with you. You can hear her quietly scolding and grounding him, which he tries to fight and continue blaming Stevie to no avail.

You give the little boy a smile, "How's your day?"

"Good." He smiles, "I met these guys at the skate shop on fifth. I didn't skate or anything, but I think they like me."

"Awe, that's good, Stevie." You lightly smile, holding the milk up in a questionable form with a look on your face, silently asking if he wanted any. "Did I tell you about that chick Angela that I work with?"

He nods to the cereal, then shakes his head to the question.

"Oh my God, okay, so there's this kid... ugh.." You reach up in the cabinet for another bowl while he sits down at the table. "I dunno his name, but she's got some crush on him and will never shut up about it. Like, I'm not your friend, you probably would've bullied me if I was your age"

"Wasn't she the girl who stole your lunch?" Stevie asks.

"Yes! And I'm still mad about it"

You serve Stevie his cereal and head to bed once you're done, having been exhausted by your day at work, plus you had to get up early for a double.

You're awoken from your slumber around 11:30, hearing some sort of grunting across the hall. These walls were paper thin. You were praying it wasn't your mom in her room with some random man again. But these didn't sound like pleasurable sounds, they sounded painful.

You slowly raise your head from your pillow, confusion hitting you like a brick at this hour. The next grunt is louder, leading your suspicion that the sound was coming from your mom's room to be false. You stand up, walk out into the hall, and determine the location of the sound was in Stevie's room.

"You better not be jerking it this loudly, dude," you think, slowly and quietly placing your hand on the doorknob.

You push the door open and look over at Stevie's bed, a mattress on the floor. You see Ian over Stevie, repetitively punching him in the stomach.

"What the fuck?" You exclaim, "Ian! Get the fuck off of him!"

You rush to the youngest boy's aid, pulling the older boy off of him. Ian fights back, the both of you tussling in the middle of the bedroom. He yells in pain as you punch him in the nose, and Stevie runs up to try and separate you two. Your mother then runs in, probably having been awoken by your shouting.

She pulls you away from Ian and you see Stevie fall back onto his bed, clearly scared.

"What in the hell is going on in here?!"

"Mom, calm down-"

"I'm not calming down! Your brother is being given drugs by a group of older boys, probably your age!" She yells, her hand tightly gripping around Stevie's wrist.

"Mom, I'll go down there myself, you're gonna be late"

"No, you're not! You do everything to keep him out of facing the consequences of his actions. He's not going back there again!" She exclaims, pulling him toward the door.

"Make her listen to you" You whisper to him.

You watch the front door slam shut, leaving you and Ian alone in the home. You walk back to your room and grab your keys and wallet, preparing to go to work.

You look out the window, seeing your mom pulling out of the driveway, Stevie in the passengers seat with the most miserable look on his face.

"Christ, Stevie"

He didn't come home that night, but you wouldn't have known since you were working the graveyard shift. Even the next day, you hadn't heard from him at all. You just hoped that he was out skating with his friends, and making good decisions.

You had the day off, thank God. You decided to make dinner before any of the three came home from work or hanging out with friends. By five, you passed out on the couch thanks to the night shift and your exhaustion, plus the melatonin you'd taken to stay asleep.

At one in the morning, you're ripped from your sleep as the phone rings. You groan as it rings again, and stand up to answer whoever oh-so-desperately needed you at this God forsaken hour.

You pick up the phone and hold it to your ear, the sleep inside your brain about to consume you "Suljic residence"

"Hello, is this... Dabney Suljic?"

"Uh, no. This is her eldest kid, I can leave a message?"

"We'd prefer if you or she could come down to the hospital. You can get a hold of your mother here, Stevie was in an accident with some friends. We need papers signed by a legal adult and/or guardian"

Your eyes widen, your brain immediately waking up. 'What? Holy shit, is he okay?"

The man urges you to get down to the hospital, which you do after shoving shoes onto your feet and grabbing a jacket. Every minute that passed felt like an hour, an hour that you could be missing of your little brother's last breathes. You just wanted him to be okay, even if he was hooked up to machines forcing him to breathe and for his heart to keep pumping just a little longer.

You quickly speed through the automatic doors of the building and run to the reception desk, asking where he is and what happened. Apparently, the boys he'd been telling you about had been giving him drugs and alcohol, and the driver, at least, was driving under the influence, and the car flipped.

Now, your brother was living off of life support.

You weren't able to see him, and had to sit in the waiting room. You used every single quarter you had in your car to urgently call your mom, calling around at all her jobs, the home phone, the bar, even. With no answer after ringing the home phone again, and with no quarters left, you sit down, your leg bouncing like crazy.

Your head rests in your hands, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Your brother, basically your own son, was laying in the ER, and you had no idea of the extent to his injuries.

You watch the other boys, his friends, you guessed, walk out of the elevator, and come down to the waiting room. You sit next to the payphone and hope for any call to ring at the front desk, hoping it was your mom, or even Ian for all you cared.

The group of boys sit a little ways away from you, scratches and bruises littering their bodies. You walk back out to your car and scrape a few quarters from your middle console and rush back in, dialing the home phone again.

No answer.

408-299-2929

Finally, a fucking answer.

"Mom? Ian?"

"It's Mom, are you okay, Y/n?" Your mom asks.

"Did you not hear me call the phone fourteen fucking times?" You ask, "Fuck, Stevie is in the hospital. Get down here ASAP, please"

You hang the phone up and sit back down, leaving the spare quarters on top of the machine for others to use. You notice the boys all looking at you, considering your little outburst.

"Sorry," you mumble to them, leaning back in the plastic seat, eyes still on the floor.

"What do you mean he's dead?"

"He's gone, Y/n" Your mother speaks to you, tears falling down her cheeks.

Ian rushes out of the room, headed toward the bathroom, hopefully to have some empathy for once.

You look back at Stevie, laying lifeless in the hospital bed. He looks so peaceful, even with tubes running down his throat and wires stuck to his chest. His chest isn't rising slowly anymore like he was just asleep, he was just... there.

Dabney steps out of the way, as you'd been asleep when he flatlined, due to your exhaustion and overwhelming anxiety. You slowly stagger into the room, having it all to yourself.

The boys outside watch as you step in, shame and disappointment painting their eyes. The curly haired blonde is obviously the most shameful, being in himself for causing this. He'd hurt not only Stevie but Dabney, Ian, and you as well.

You stand next to the little boy's bed, and take a long look at his lifeless body. A hand runs through his fluffy brown hair, which circles down to rest behind his ear and on his jawline.

Tears fall from your eyes as you lean down, your other hand resting under his jaw.

What kind of last words were "make her listen to you"? He deserved better, especially from you.

"I love you, Stevie. I'm so proud of you. I'm-" You choke on your sobs, "I'm gonna miss you. I'm gonna miss you coming home and telling me all about your day, and going to the fair with you, and buying you snacks at the gas station"

He doesn't answer, his body becoming colder and much more pale over time.

"I'm never going to forget you, okay? Everywhere I go, everything I do, you'll be there. You'll see the world and what it had to offer you, kiddo."

You hug his cold body, wanting to imagine his arms happily wrapping around you again like he just successfully did his first kickflip again. But he never wraps his arms around you with a smile. His laughter only echoes in your mind.

You pull away and place a kiss on his forehead like you did when he was little, when you'd tuck him into bed all the way up til he was ten or so.

"Goodnight, I love you"

Not adding the "see you tomorrow" shattered your heart into a million pieces as you stepped outside, trying to keep your tears contained.

You wrap your arms around your mom, seeing her still crying as she was waiting for you. She gives you a little nod, needing to sign a million papers confirming his death and plans for everything else.

You sit down where you were at earlier, seeing the group of boys looking at you. The first to approach you is a dark-skinned boy with locs, wearing a blue hoodie and dark pants.

"Are you Y/n?" He asks softly, sitting next to you.

You nod.

"Sunburn told us a lot about you. I'm sorry for your loss"

"It's okay" You nod, wiping the tears from your eyes while you could. "Uhm, sorry, who are you?"

"Oh, he was uh, friends with us. Skate group," He clarifies. "My name's Ray"

"What... happened?" You ask him, "Like, what was his last day like" You speak quietly, almost too scared to hear it.

"Uhm, your mom brought him over to Motorz, went all crazy about drugs and the fingering-"

"Fingering?" You ask with confusion.

"Uh, I'll tell you about that another time, yeah?"

You nod, begging for him to continue.

"I talked to him for a while after he was done throwing his board around all upset. We skated til maybe ten, fell asleep on a fountain, and used our boards as pillows. Next morning, we went back to get with the others and go to a skater meetup type thing. A bunch of skaters and friends meet up to do drugs, smoke, drink and shit."

You nod, fidgeting with your fingers a bit.

"He got mad fucked up, thank Fuckshit" He mumbles, glaring at the curly haired blonde a few feet away. "Uh, got in a little fight with Ruben" He points over at a boy in a grey sweatshirt, hair buzzed. "Uh, got him to chill out with Fourthgrade for a while til the sun set" He looks back at another boy, about his age, with bleached hair and some pink streaks in it.

"Is that when...?"

He nods. "I tried to just get Fuckshit to take everyone home, we were all miserable, he wouldn't listen. He could barely keep his eyes open, and..."

You nod. "Thank you. I needed to hear it in detail, they wouldn't tell me shit"

He nods again, rubbing your shoulder as a sign of comfort. You could tell he'd gone through something similar like this, it was all spoken in his heartbroken eyes.

Fuckshit walks over, a look of self shame, regret, and sadness in his eyes. "Sorry, I'm Fuckshit. I just wanted to say sorry for your loss, and I wanted to share my condolences. " He speaks, hands tucked away in his pockets. He's clearly nervous, yet taking in your look as he'd never met the infamous Y/n that Stevie always talked about.

"He talked about you a lot, he really loved you, man. I'm so sorry-"

"Sorry for what?" You ask with a snarky tone. "Sorry for killing my brother? Sorry for taking away the only thing that kept me functioning in this fucked up world?"

He steps back a bit, not speaking for himself. He didn't want to cause any trouble, especially after what he did. His head hangs low as all of the boys look at him. Ray looks nearly disgusted.

"You're the kid who killed my brother?" You ask, standing up quickly as Ray follows your actions, trying to de-escalate the situation as much as he could.

Fuckshit solemnly nods.

"Go fuck yourself. I hope you learned your lesson, Fuckhead" You spit, quickly making your way toward the doors to go sit in your car and sob at eight in the morning.

Ray gives Fuckshit a gross look and a shake of the head before chasing after you, wanting to make sure you were alright. Fourthgrade sits quietly in his seat, fidgeting with his camera while Ruben next to him bites at his nails.

"Shit..."