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valentina-writes · 1 day ago

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Here's an idea for a Azriel x reader fanfic if you're interested! Azriels mate is pregnant and she is a cauldron made high fae. While he's away on a mission. She is taken by his half brothers and put in the cell he spent the early years of his life. Azriel must go rescue her. We love a protective azriel

no grave (can hold my body down)

Azriel x reader

summary: shortly after you find out you're pregnant with Azriel's baby, two illyrians kidnap you on a mission. But it turns out they're not strangers, after all.

warnings: physical violence, predatory behavior, pregnancy, hurt/comfort

genre: angst, (a bit of fluff) | words: 4.3k | masterlist

A/N: Thanks for the idea, anon! Funny enough, I was thinking about opening requests again when this came in (I'll update you on that soon). I really hope you like it ;)

It was a routine mission, nothing more. A quick trip to the illyrian steppes to gather healing herbs, at your own request. To free your head. You had done this countless times, winnow in, pick herbs, winnow out. But not this time.

You were crouched in a meadow, trying to identify the many plants. Every now and then, you pulled out a little booklet with descriptions of the herbs you were looking for, comparing them. But your mind was elsewhere. This morning, Madja had visited you, after weeks of feeling unwell, vomiting and utter exhaustion. Her beaming smile, the wrinkles forming in the corners of her eye, had been a shock, much like her words. You're pregnant, dear.

Pregnant. And instead of being excited, you had felt sick to your stomach and immediately fled from Velaris before Azriel returned from his own mission. And here you were now. It wasn't that you didn't want this baby, or that you were scared Azriel would be anything but elated. But it would change your lives so drastically, so suddenly.

You quietly hummed a sweet melody to yourself. What would he say? What would you do?

Over your song, you didn't hear the birds stop chirping and the wind stilling. Lost in thought, you kept hacking away at the plants before you.

"Who do we have here?". You stilled and then turned, drawing your knife.

It was Azriel standing before you, your beautiful mate. You let your knife sink. His big wings were folded against his back, his soft dark hair blowing in the breeze. You opened your mouth in surprise. He stepped closer. "If that isn't little Y/N".

Why was he here? Why was he talking like this? He was unlike himself, but you couldn't quite make it out. Something about him was different, you mused. Your gaze wandered over him, trying to understand. The wind stilled, and then you saw it. There were no shadows. And the hand, hovering over the knife, that wasn't truth-teller, was unmarked.

You bolted, dropping the pouch you had gathered the herbs in. That had been the first lection Azriel had ever given you. Run. Bring as much distance between you and the opponent as you can and then winnow.

Five steps. That was how far you got, because right before you, another illyrian dropped from the sky. He looked less like Azriel, but the similarity was still startling. So much that you lost a precious second staring at him. A second he used to grab your arms in place and throw away your knife. And he blew something into your face, a kind of powder that left a heavy metallic tang in your nostrils. Faebane. Strong hands gripped you by your neck from behind.

"My favorite sister in law", Azriel's brother before you crooned, "what a shame the invitations for the mating ceremony got lost. I would've loved to see the bastard-union". The faebane burned in your nose and in your mouth. The grip of the male behind you was so strong around your neck that you were fighting for each intake of breath, trying to cough out as much of the poison as possible.

Don't panic, you thought to yourself, fighting to stay composed. You gathered all of your magic, tried to fold the cosmos and step right into the next world. You imagined the old woods and fields of fire-like flowers and gathered all your energy. But the power escaped your grasp. It wasn't enough to winnow. Not to a different world, not to Velaris, not even to the other side of the meadow. The power inside you had dwindled into a small spark.

And the bond. The mating bond inside your chest numbed down, its glow being cast into darkness. You grasped at it, but it escaped your reach. With your last spark of power, you grapped the bond, refused to let go, even when it ran tight and fickle, and tugged. Hard. Harder than ever and only let go when the bond went fully dark.

"You will die". They didn't expect you to fight. The surprise was on your side when you kneed the one in front of you straight in the groin. His eyes widened and the warrior dropped to his knees, but still wouldn't let go. A second kick made him groan, dropping his arms and cursing under his breath. But there was no way you could shrug off the other one, his hands still tight around your neck. Not without the knife. You clawed at his hands, kicked at him, but he was just too big and you were too exhausted. Your cauldron-given powers were stolen from you. Under normal circumstances they would've been dead the second they laid hands on you. Not today.

He was hard against you now. Bile rose up in your throat at the feeling of him rubbing against you. "What a feisty little bitch you are", he whispered into your ear. And then he squeezed your neck hard and the world turned dark.

It was dark around you. A blackness so infinite you couldn't make out your own hand engulfed you. You had no recollection how you got here. The stone floor you lay on was nastily cold and wet, draining any warmth from your body. Any energy from you and the baby. The baby. Your hand shot to your stomach and chains rattled on the floor at the movement. They had shackled you. The cuffs were ice-cold around your wrists and so tight it hurt. A whimper escaped your lips. With soft strokes, you caressed your stomach. How unfair it was for this little baby. In a few weeks, you would start to show, you realized. You forbid yourself imagining what Azriel's brothers would do to your unborn child if they found out.

You sat upright. The chains that bound you to the wall allowed you to move through the cell. You explored every inch of it. There was nothing but cold stone and a bucket to relieve yourself. No door. Not even a window. This was the place Azriel had spent his childhood in, you were sure of it. He seldom talked about this time period. But from what you knew, from what he screamed during his nightmares and afterwards whispered to you, gasping for breath, this was it. Now, often you woke up screaming, too, haunted by dreams of a little winged boy sharing your cell. But you didn't allow yourself to cry. Not once.

Had he even felt the last tug you had given the bond? Azriel was on the continent, as far as you knew. Maybe your magic had been too weak, the distance too far. There was no way of knowing whether he was aware that you were gone. But then again, you tried to console yourself, Rhys knew exactly where you had last been. They will rescue me, you repeated again and again. They will find me.

You couldn't tell how much time had passed already. In the beginning, you screamed and shouted and tugged on the shackles, so hard the skin rubbed away and left a bloody mess. Every now and then, you tried reaching for the bond, for your mate. But it was gone, just like your powers.

The only thing that disturbed the emptiness of the cell was stale bread and water. Sometimes it seemed like not even an hour had passed between meals, sometimes it felt like days. The food was poisoned, you were sure. But, after a few days, hunger won over all else, and you ate the faebane. Everytime you ate, you prayed to the Mother. Not the baby. Let it survive. Don't let the poison affect it.

There was no way to tell the time, not even a sound from outside the cell reached you, but more than a week must have passed before they came to see you. Light broke the dark void. Violent beams of it hit your eyes, blinding you almost entirely after - what? - days? weeks? in the darkness. You had no clue how long you had been here already.

"How is little Y/N?", a deep voice sounded. His face was unrecognizable, so blinded were you, but it was the one you had kicked in the balls, you were fairly certain. His tone was pure mockery. "Tired of this yet?"

You wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing your distress. "What do you want?"

"See how my little bastard sister in law is doing, of course".

"If you're so concerned for my wellbeing, maybe you shouldn't have put me in a cell"

"No, I think you're exactly where you belong. Where he also belongs". Your heart twisted. Azriel had spent years in this cell. Images of his child-self forced its way into your mind. His hands, freshly burned and torturingly painful. His wings, useless and limp because they had never taught him to use them. You slowly breathed in. Now you needed to be strong for all three of you. Not despair.

"Let me go. I haven't done anything to you. I don't even know you. Let me out"

"You're right. But word says not only the Archeron sisters came out of the Cauldron and took something from it. That when you were made you bargained with the Mother herself and she loved you so much she gave you a power like no other". Your blood ran cold. Thoughts of the day you came out of the Cauldron swirled through your head. Azriel's face as he watched in horror, half-dead. The bond snapping immediately. The Mother. The gift.

"What do you want?"

"I'm here to offer a bargain myself". You didn't answer. It was clear what he wanted.

He tried once again. "What is it that the cauldron gifted you? That has the high lord make the mountains shake in rage at your disappearance?". Finally, you could make out his face. You studied him quietly. His face was twisted into a sneer, eyes dead. There was no empathy in his gaze, no sign of remorse. And it didn't seem to occur to him that Rhys would always go to the end of the world to rescue his brother's mate, no matter their power.

You stilled, thinking. He didn't even know what powers you possessed exactly. Was it all an act of speculation?

He grabbed you by your hair, forcing you to look him in the eye. His grip was so strong it brought tears to your eyes. "Answer me, bitch"

"Maybe you should've investigated on my powers before throwing me in your little dungeon", you hissed. He dropped your head immediately. His big hand met your face with a thundering bang, so hard the back of your head met the stone wall with a sickening thud. A pained gasp left your lips. Your cheek burned where he had striked and your skull. Your skull was ringing, throbbing so hard you saw stars and a wet patch formed at the back of it. Hot, blazing pain killed every thought in your head but one. Not the baby.

"All talk, no bite", he chuckled and kneeled down before you. "Let me get this straight. You service me and my brother with your power and in exchange you get to leave the cell". It was such a shitty bargain, under normal circumstances you would've laughed. But all you could do was sob at the pain blooming in your skull, the sounds of it ricocheting off the walls.

Another voice, right at the trap door. The other brother. "Try not to kill her"

The male before you retreated.

"Leave her. She will come to her senses soon".

They left you there, bleeding on the floor. No healer came. The wound stopped bleeding after a while, but the throbbing pain remained. You drifted in and out of sleep, only awake long enough to retch up the little food you got. You would never return home. Azriel would never get to meet his child, not even know he was a father.

He came back regularly. Each time, he offered the same bargain. Each time, you refused a little less violently.

"Tell me about your powers", he would demand again and again. And you would shake your head until he hit and kicked you, until you were a sobbing mess on floor of the cell. But you didn't tell him.

Until, one day, the other one came. The one with the predatory glint in his eye, the one who had gotten hard at your tries to get away from him. He was so tall he had to crouch before you. And when he threatened to touch you, when he whispered into the darkness how he would use you, you had broken down. The words had spilled out of you like your tears and for a moment you were scared he would touch you anyways. I can winnow between worlds. But he only grinned and left. He had what he wanted. The next time he'd ask, he knew you'd accept whatever bargain he would offer.

That night, the darkness around you felt different. It wasn't empty. Something was watching you. You tried to ignore it, to simply fall asleep, but its presence made it impossible. So, you searched every inch of the cell. On hands and knees you crept through the small room, trying to find whatever it was. You found nothing but cold hard stone. But it was there. Everywhere. And when you finally closed your eyes again and laid your head against the cold stone, the darkness became a thing. And you could have sworn it sung a lullaby to you, in the language of the wind.

The trap door swung open once again. Blazing Light blinded you and you could barely make out a tall illyrian landing before you. He was too big for this cell. His wings scraped against the walls on both sides, and his head was ducked low as to not bump into the ceiling.

You scurried away from him, using your hands on the wall to guide you into the farthest corner. Inside you, your heart hammered against your ribs. This was it. He'd force you into the bargain.

The male extended a hand to you. You couldn't see more than his outlines, so blinding was the light. "Y/N, it's me".

You bared your teeth at the male and hissed. "I'll do what you want but if you touch me one more time, I'll fucking kill you".

A sharp intake of breath. "I'll get you out of here, Y/N. Please. It's me, Azriel". His tone was pleading, his voice oh so familiar. But it couldn't be him. Just another one of their tricks to get you to comply.

You dropped your head against the cold stone. "At least make it quick this time", you mumbled.

The male crouched down before you. Slowly, your eyes adapted to the light and you could make out his features. He looked like your mate. The golden specks in his hazel eyes, the dark locks of hair. But then again, his brothers looked so similar. It must have been wishful thinking. A trick of the light.

"I'm here to bring you home", he whispered, his voice breaking. Soft tendrils of air swirled over your shackled wrists, tugging at the cuffs. Dark and silky, kissing your raw skin where you had rubbed it open trying to free yourself. The male's hands met your face, stroking your cheeks. Scarred hands, wiping away tears that were running from your eyes.

Your head snapped up. "Azriel". It was more an outcry than anything, strangled and barely understandable. You flung yourself at him, as far as the confines allowed.

"Shhh, I'm here, I'm here. We're going home. Everything will be okay". Another figure appeared behind him and the shackles dissolved into thin air. Azriel was all over you in an instant. His strong hands roamed your body, pressed you tightly against him as if to never let you go again. You sobbed into his shoulder. He had come for you. He had saved you. "It's over. It's over. You have been so strong", Azriel whispered to you. He pressed a kiss to your temple and threaded his hand into your hair, where he met-

"Ow", you sobbed harder as he touched the wound. Azriel's hands immediately let go and curled aaround your shoulders instead.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry they did this to you".

"Get her out, Cass and I will handle the rest", the other person said. You had almost forgotten about him. Rhysand, you registered. Azriel picked you up, your limbs curling around his strong body. Your face buried into the crook of his neck, still whimpering against his shoulder. But it were tears of joy. His wings closed in around you immediately.

"No. I want to see the light leave their eyes for what they have done to my mate". His tone was cold, unyielding. So unlike the soft hand stroking your back, the nose buried in your hair, breathing in your scent deeply.

"Then I will keep them alive. But first, you leave. Now".

He stepped through the wind with you in his arms. You didn't feel it in his tight embrace, but he must have winnowed because moments later he sat down on your bed with you on his lap. His wings folded around you half-way, so that light could still come through. The familiarity of the sight took your breath away. You'd thought you would never be with him like this again.

"You're at home", Azriel whispered to you. "It's okay, we're at home". Strangled sounds filled the room, sobs and whines and only when his rough hands stroked your back and he told you to breathe, you realized you were crying and you were making the sounds.

"My love, I've got you. You're safe here". You forced yourself to breathe and dropped your head to his chest.

"Shh, I'm here. They can't hurt you anymore". Azriel kissed your head. You counted his breaths, trying to mimic them, In – out – in – out, and took in his scent of night-chilled air and cedar.

You didn't know how long you stayed this way until you could breathe again and stopped sobbing. Only then did you realize what had happened.

"I thought I'd never see you again", you forced out. Tears were welling up in your eyes again, but you willed them away.

For a while, you only stared at him, marveling his beauty. The way the sun illuminated the gold and emerald streaks in his eyes. His hair that was already a bit too long for his liking and fell into his forehead. The gloriously full lips you loved so much. How could you have ever mistaken your captors for your mate?

"How did you find me?", you finally asked with a hoarse voice.

"I felt the bond". Azriel nearly choked on his words. "That last tug – and then it went dark and I thought I had lost you". A tear rolled down his cheek and you tightened your grasp around his waist. "We searched the steppes for you, but there was nothing. And then, last night... my shadows called out to me. Across the entire court". The darkness singing a song to you, the thing in the night. You hadn't made it up.

You stared at him in awe. "How?". They never strayed far from him.

"I send them into every corner of Prythian and... it had been so long and I didn't think they'd find you. But then they were called to where they came from". He dropped his face onto the crown of your head and pressed a kiss to it.

"It was so dark in there". Your breath hitched at the thought of the cell. Lightly, you rubbed over the scabs at your wrists behind his back. "And I was so alone. Until I wasn't"

"What do you mean?"

"Something was there - it... it watched me. And then it turned into something else. And sang me to sleep." Realization hit you. "I think that were your shadows".

"Was that... was that what it was like for you as well? When you were in that cell? I thought about you every second, how you spent your childhood in there and..." He frowned.

His gaze was very far away, centuries ago. "It was the same. Only that nobody came for me". HIs eyes met yours and turned soft at the pain that was painted on your face. "I'll tell you all about it. In a while, when you feel better".

You laid your head onto his shoulders again and held onto him. You weren't quite sure who was comforting who now. Maybe you found solace in each other, through the hardhips you had shared.

But there was something else you shared. Someone.

You drew back slightly and locked eyes with him again. "I was so scared, Az. I thought I'd never see you again". You grasped his hand and laid it on your stomach. The anxiety you had felt the morning you had found out about the pregnancy was all gone. "I thought I'd die and you'd never even know that you are a dad".

His eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

"That day, Madja came to see me and told me. That's why I went to the steppes, to free my head and think before telling you". Tears ran down your cheeks again now. "I wish I had just stayed home and wited for you to return", you weeped.

"You're pregnant?" There were tears pooling in his eyes as well. "My Y/N. My mate. Thinking I had lost you was the worst I've ever felt. But to think I could've lost both of you, without even knowing...". Azriel broke off and pulled you into a tight hug, his hands shaking.

He took your face in his hands and kissed away the tears.

"Are you happy, Az?". Your voice was barely a whisper.

"I couldn't be happier now that I have you back. And I couldn't be happier about our baby". Azriel's lips met yours in a soft caress. He tasted like home.

You didn't leave the bed all day. You stayed with him, curled underneath the covers. Azriel kissed away the pain and held your hand when Madja came to check on the baby and your head. You both were healthy, thank the Mother. And when Madja was gone, Azriel wrapped you in his arms and wings and never let go. He didn't urge you to talk any more about what had happened. Maybe the frail wisps of midnight air that circled around you now had told him everything already.

"I will kill them for what they did to you", Azriel whispered after he had made love to you slowly. Your naked limbs were still tangled with his, his entire body splayed over you, as if shielding you from the outside world.

Your breath hitched in your chest and Azriel planted a soft kiss on your jaw.

"No". His entire body turned rigid and he rolled off you without letting go.

"Why no? Y/N, I can't let them live after what they did", he murmured, kissing up your cheek, "I wasn't there to protect you. This is the only way I can make up for what happened".

Your hug around him grew tighter. "It's not your fault. I reacted too late. There is no debt to pay me, Az. And even if there was, you would've paid it back the moment you brought me home". Your hands threaded into his hair.

Azriel buried his face in your neck and his shadows stroked your cheek. "Please. I will never forgive myself for leaving you both unprotected. Please let me make it up to you. To the baby. If you were any other male's mate, if you were Cassian's mate or Rhys's they wouldn't have done this to you. It's because of me".

He meant it. Your heart dropped at the realization. He thought he was responsible.

"It's not your fault, none of this"

He wanted to interrupt you, but you didn't let him. "Not for this and not for what they did to you as a child. I don't want you to kill them for me. At least not only for me. I want you to kill them for what they did to you as well"

He stilled for a moment and then nodded slowly. "I can live with that".

"Good". You closed your eyes and soaked up his warmth. There was no other way you wanted to spend your future with him. You'd die a happy death in a thousand years if all you did until then was lay in bed next to your mate.

A wisp of air circled around your wrist, darted over chest and pooled over your stomach where it stayed, humming.

"It's yours now", Azriel murmured into your hair, "that's the one that found you. It told me it won't leave your side again".

Your fingers threaded through the shadowy tendrils and you could've sworn they purred at your touch.

"And I will also never leave your side", he whispered before his lips met yours.

#azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #acotar writing #azriel x reader angst #azriel angst #azriel x reader fluff #azriel fluff #azriel x you #azriel x reader imagine #azriel hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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slut4megantheestallion · 2 days ago

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Hello, I was wondering if you could accept my request and publish it. Arcane women x reader who has favorite (sexual) activity to do scissors! If you're uncomfortable with this, it's not your style or anything else, it's totally fine if you don't write it down. That's all. Regards, and have a nice day!

Arcane Women x reader - their reaction to Scissoring being your favorite Headcannons

Characters: Jinx, Vi, Mel, Caitlyn, Sevika, Ambessa

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Scissoring, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Praise, Dirty Talk, Intimacy

Jinx

●Jinx loves that this is your favorite. She’s a chaotic, energetic lover, and scissoring is perfect for her fast-paced, playful nature.

●"Holy shit, babe, that’s so hot. Why the hell haven’t we done this already?!"

●She giggles, teasing you while locking her legs around yours, rolling her hips wildly. Jinx likes to make a game out of it, seeing who can last longer before cumming first.

●"Think you can outlast me, sugar? Hah, good fuckin’ luck~!"

●She’s loud, unfiltered, moaning and whimpering with every thrust. She’ll make the whole thing messy, leaving hickeys on your thighs, fingers gripping your ass as she whines about how good you feel.

●"Fuckfuckfuck—ohhh, babe—hah, I’m gonna—ahhh~!

●Vi is absolutely down for it. She’s strong, passionate, and loves anything that lets her be close to you—physically and emotionally. The first time you bring it up, she smirks, running a hand through her pink hair.

●“Damn, babe, that’s hot. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

●She loves watching your body move against hers, the way your thighs squeeze together, and how wet and desperate you get for her. Vi is dominant but enjoys when you take control, gripping her hips and grinding hard.

●"Shit—yeah, just like that, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re so good at this.”

●She’ll hold your waist, pressing her forehead against yours, moaning into your mouth as you both chase release. Vi is a sucker for eye contact, her blue eyes locked onto yours as you both fall apart together.

●"God, I love seeing you like this, baby. Can’t get enough of you."

Caitlyn

●At first, Caitlyn was a little surprised. She’s used to a more traditional pace in the bedroom, but the idea excites her. She pushes her dark hair behind her ear, blushing.

●"Oh? That’s… quite the request. But, I have to admit, it sounds rather enticing."

●She loves the intimacy of it—how your legs tangle, how your bodies align so perfectly. Caitlyn is incredibly attentive, watching your every reaction, making sure she’s moving just right.

●"You feel amazing, darling. Look at you… absolutely breathtaking."

●Caitlyn grips the sheets when you take control, dragging your body against hers with need. She moans softly, but when she gets overwhelmed, her posh accent becomes more desperate.

●"Y-Yes—keep going! Just like that, love, don’t stop—!"

Mel

●Mel is amused when you tell her. She swirls her wine, a smirk playing on her lips as she watches you with a knowing look.

●“Oh? That’s what excites you the most? How very… refined of you.”

● She adores the sensuality of it. Mel loves slow, drawn-out pleasure, teasing you with barely-there movements until you’re begging for more.

●“Patience, my love. You’ll get what you want… eventually.”

● She’s all about luxury and control—her hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements with practiced grace. She enjoys watching you squirm under her, your lips parted as you struggle to keep up with her precise pace.

●“Yes, just like that. You look divine, darling—so desperate, so needy. It’s beautiful.”

● The eye contact is intense—Mel’s golden irises locked onto yours as she whispers filthy praises, watching every shiver that runs through you. She never lets you finish quickly—she drags it out until you can’t take it anymore.

●"Tell me, my love… how badly do you want to cum?"

Sevika

●Sevika raises a brow when you bring it up. She’s used to being in control, so the idea of something so intimate makes her pause. But she’s intrigued.

●"Huh. Didn’t peg you for the type to want something so... close."

●She tries to act like she’s unaffected, but the first time you grind against her? She loses it. Groaning low in her throat, hands gripping your waist as she mutters curses under her breath.

●"Shit. Yeah, just like that, baby. Fuck, you feel good."

●Sevika isn’t as vocal as Jinx, but she makes up for it in deep, raspy moans. She’ll grip your thighs, forcing you to move slower, making sure she feels every slick, heated drag of your bodies.

●"Don’t rush it. I wanna feel you—every inch of you."

Ambessa

●Ambessa raises a single brow when you tell her, her lips curving into a smirk as she leans back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest.

●“So, that’s what you like? Hmph. You have fine taste.”

●She’s commanding, completely in control—even when you’re on top - Ambessa makes you work for it. She grips your hips, forcing you to move at her pace, watching you with an almost predatory gleam in her eyes.

●“Slower. I want to feel every inch of you.”

●Ambessa is ruthless in her teasing. She never lets you set the rhythm fully—one moment, she’s letting you grind desperately against her, and the next, she’s gripping your thighs and flipping you beneath her.

●“You thought you were in charge? Adorable.”

●She growls low in her throat when she feels you tense beneath her, dragging her body against yours in slow, powerful movements that leave you gasping.

●"Look at you… so desperate for me. You want more? Beg for it."

●Afterward, she doesn’t let you move. You’re completely trapped in her arms, her powerful body keeping you close as she chuckles against your skin.

●"You wanted this, didn’t you? Now, you can rest right here, little one."

#arcane smut #wlw #wlw x reader #sevika smut #sevika x reader #vi smut #vi x reader #jinx smut #jinx x reader #caitlyn Kirraman smut #caitlyn Kirraman x reader #ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #mel medarda smut #mel medarda x reader

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awardenandacrow · 2 days ago

Text

It is 12:14 and I should be sleeping but I miss Naimy.

NOTE: I’m tired and that generally means I swear more. TW/CW strong language.

1. Naimeryn has a secret stash of plushies. She hides them in the console table behind the couch and sleeps with them if it’s been a really bad day. Hee favorite is an incredibly dirty and hardly-holding-it-together patchwork bunny in frilly overalls.

2. Harding gave her some plant clippings. They’re living, but it’s unclear if Naimeryn can actually claim any responsibility for that. She took care of the mousers at Weisshaupt, and especially that one kitchen cat, so a pet she could probably handle. Given her childhood, she doubts very much she has the tools necessary to care for and raise a child.

3. “You know about Lucanis and me? Uh… I mean, he’s perfect. Right? He’s so thoughtful. About everyone, I mean, not just me. He notices what you like and what you need and then just sort of… quietly makes it happen. He’s the sweetest.” *cue blushing and idiotic grinning and happy feet kicks*

4. Naimy doesn’t own much red, and generally the color reminds her of her mother, so she avoids it. Lucanis generally isn’t nuts about red (all that Venatori fighting, probably), but he’ll answer this question with a resounding “YES.” As will Spite. The two may have conspired to go back to Gabriela for the red dress, we may never know.

5. It’ll be the shortest speech you’ve ever heard, and it will absolutely give the credit to everyone else. And then she will go hide under the covers of her bed for a year.

6. Emmrich. He’s basically her dad, and he knows what’s up. On the other hand, Illario. That fuckin’ idiot 🤦🏻‍♀️

7. Resilient, resourceful, and kind. “Uh, me? I guess… clumsy? Awkward, and… yeah I’ll take resourceful let’s go with that.”

8. “Fuck. Puzzles!”

9. Naimeryn spent years teaching herself to painstakingly re-bind a large percentage of the books in Weisshaupt’s library. She also keeps her secret plushie stash well-repaired with her embroidery skills, also self taught. So, yes.

10. She’s pretty happy with her current age. Most of her younger years kind of sucked. She’s looking forward to being older, but living in the now is working out pretty great despite the looming threat of her own damn gods.

11. Naimeryn would not have any idea what to do with all that money. Lucanis would take her on a shopping spree, but end up buying everything for her. So then Teia would have to round up Neve, Harding, and Taash for a ✨proper✨ shopping spree.

12. Naimeryn enjoyed Varric’s books, but didn’t actively seek out the romance genre until she learned it was an interest of Lucanis’s… and realized she needed to do some research.

13. The people you love most, may not be the people who love ✨you✨ the most.

14. Naimeryn isn’t guilty. It’s food. Especially trying *new* food.

15. Doing something you don’t enjoy for the benefit of people who don’t appreciate it (e.g. laundry was a waste of time in the magister’s house, but doing it for the team was an act of service everyone noticed, and therefore not a waste of time).

16. Just, *new* clothes when the old ones get wore out.

17. Naimeryn ✨does✨ like kids. She’s a little uncomfortable around them, but she enjoys seeing them happy and thriving, and is actually really good with them. I have this image in my head of her slinging spells with a baby in a wrap carrier on her back like a badass but I dunno, guess we’ll see…

18. Yes, please.

19. Obsessively. She was so nervous about her final project for Lucienne (the spinning magic orb thing) that she started studying the enchantments and mechanisms a full year before Lucienne actually assigned it to her.

20. Sloshing through literally any and all water sources. Barefoot, preferably.

21. He’d have to totally abandon who he is. Become cruel and unthinking. Leave his principles behind. Chest on her, probably. If a stranger stood where Lucanis does now, that would be the end of it for her, but she’d cling to Lucanis until the last shred of him was gone before giving up.

22. Once she finally learns what “Mia fiamma” means, she’s going to be obsessed with being called a pet name. People are going to start thinking “Fiamma” is her given name. She plays with some for Lucanis but nothing fits and she feels awkward using them.

23. A mix of both. The stability of Weisshaupt was suffocating. The novelty of adventuring wears on the body and the soul. Something in the middle might be nice, next.

24. Honesty, but tactful and gentle delivery are important. Lies are lies, no matter how well-intended.

25. There’s plenty of possibility in safety. Safe is good. Safe allows for many more things to be possible.

26. “Well, shit, neither did me much good, so who the hell knows.” 😅

27. Case by case basis. Naimeryn wanted vengeance in the cases of both Illario and Solas, but in both cases forgiveness was more important for someone she cared about, and so she chose forgiveness. If the circumstances were right, though, and it wouldn’t negatively effect anyone she loved, she could probably go the vengeance route if she felt someone deserved it (cough, cough, Calivan, Anaris, Zara, Aelia, The Dragon King…)

28. Does Lucanis count?

29. Blight dreams (cos she’s a Warden). Will these persist after-game? We shall see…

30. Being given forgiveness is not the same as deserving it. Naimeryn endeavors not to do things that will require forgiveness in the first place.

I hope y’all enjoyed this! Let me know if you’d like me to expand on any of these.

oc asks that reveal more than you think

Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Ask them to describe their love interest.

Do they look good in red?

Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

What age do they most want to be right now?

They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

Name one thing their parents taught them.

Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

Do they like children?

Kissing: tongue or no tongue?

Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?

What do they like that nobody else does?

What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

Stability or novelty?

Honesty or charity?

Safety or possibility?

Talent or effort?

Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Would they date a fixer-upper?

What recurring dreams do they have?

What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

#ask game #oc asks #writeblr #ask meme #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #Naimeryn Thorne #a warden and a crow #about my rook #my rook #rook ask game #grey warden rook #rook thorne

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gr4cier4cie · 20 hours ago

Text

♡ bet you wanna love me now ♡ smau

or: he's is a seven-time world champion, revered by all, loved by most. the only person he can't win over? his goddamned wife. fem!engineer!reader x lewis hamilton (arranged/political marriage au)

warnings: none really just sexual innuendo (LOTS), the enemies part of enemies to lovers, omg i don't even know how i got this idea but it somehow happened enjoy the ride my friends!!! love you all so so so so much ♡

♡

liked by y/nhamilton, f1, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, olliebearman, lando, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, georgerussell63, and 1,090,450 others

lewishamilton this past weekend in monaco, i married the love of my life in a small ceremony attended by our close family and friends. there is no greater joy and no greater love that comes even close to what my heart feels for her. i love you, y/nhamilton. till death do us part.

comments on this post have been limited.

♡

liked by lewishamilton, yourbestfriend, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, lando, danielricciardo, and 890,645 others

y/nhamilton 06.12.25. i'll be forever yours if you'll be forever mine. i love you, lewishamilton. i always have, and i always will.

lewishamilton there she is. my wife. (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton i love you lewis. (now come back to bed) └ lewishamilton i've got to feed roscoe baby └ y/nhamilton I ALREADY FED HIM EARLIER LEW HE'S GOING TO GET FAT AGAIN

yourbestfriend im still crying over your vows (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton oh hon that was the goal im sorry im sorry

alexandrasaintmleux congratulations my love!! you deserve all the happiness marriage can provide 💕 (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton ahhh i love you my girl!! charles_leclerc put a ring on this woman before i do my god └ charles_leclerc picking out a ring is harder than you think!! (♡ by author)

username1 OKAY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKITY FUCK WHO ELSE IS HERE AFTER SEEING LEWIS' POST

username2 love how he just got married to a race engineer in the middle of the season and served cunt i mean did we expect anything else from him └ username4 WAIT WHAT SHE'S AN ENGINEER?! └ username2 omg yes check her bio

username5 omg her and lewis used the same pic of the two of them in their posts that is so damn cute

username6 OMG SHE'S SO GORG THEY'RE SO CUTE username7 PLS ADOPT ME y/nhamilton lewishamilton

♡

liked by lewishamilton, your best friend, scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, georgerussell63, and 945,600 others

y/nhamilton been out of office recently (we're never coming back)

lewishamilton my pretty girl (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton my pretty boy 💖 (talking about roscoe rn)

yourbestfriend HOLY SHIT MA'AM I AM BLINDED BY THE BEAUTY IN THIS POST (the view, i mean. not you naked. obvs) (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton so that's not very kind lewishamilton the view IS her naked in my opinion └ y/nhamilton LEWIS OH MY GOD

scuderiaferrari please come home you two. everything's a mess without you. (♡ by author)

username8 THEY'VE GOT ADMIN IN THE COMMENTS LFMAO username9 i too would be in a chokehold if these two got married and then went on a honeymoon in the middle of the f1 szn

alexandrasaintmleux so beautiful as always my girl!! (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton took inspo from you of course!! username10 oKAY THE WAY ALL THE WAGS ADOPTED Y/N └ username11 she was basically one of them already LFMAO she saw lewis more than anyone else saw him

username12 I AM DECEASED MOTHER HAS POSTED

username13 y/n please divorce lewis and marry me i am on my knees

y/nhamilton i don't know... the offer's just SO tempting... lewishamilton she's taken mate. FOREVER.

♡

liked by lewishamilton, f1, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, yourbestfriend, maxverstappen1, alexandrasaintmleux, and 1,070,300 others

y/nhamilton congratulations to the team on another amazing race in spa-francorchamps!! thank you to every single member on and off the grid today, as well as our two excellent drivers. your talent and dedication is unmatched by bounds. and to my husband, i could not be prouder of you. there are no words to describe the weight of my admiration for you.

lewishamilton it was all you, my love. all you. (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton so... you're letting me drive the car next time, yes? └ lewishamilton respectfully, not a chance in hell (♡ by author) └ y/nhamilton boooooo buzzkill alert

scuderiaferrari congratualtions on a fantastic race y/nhamilton! you two are one hell of a team. (♡ by author)

f1 the power couple energy in the room right now >> (♡ by author)

username14 PLEASE GIVE THE PERSON WORKING THE F1 MEDIA A RAISE THIS IS HILARIOUS username15 lando might have won the race, but goddamn lewis won the war

yourbestfriend AHHHH I LOVE MY WOMAN IN STEM (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton AHHH I LOVE YOU TOO SO SO MUCH (did you even watch the race bc i doubt you did) yourbestfriend im gonna hold your hand when i say no y/nhamilton IM BETRAYED

alexandrasaintmleux congrats y/n!!! love you lots XOXO (♡ by author)

y/nhamilton ahhh i love you more!! 💖

username16 does anyone else think she's using him for clout?! like she was a nobody before she married lewis

username17 okay ASSHOLE username18 ERM they're married so what its not like she married him to get famous she said in interviews that she prefers to be out of the spotlight anyway.... username19 yeah its so rude to assume she's 'using him for clout' when she has her own job?!! and life?!! like she doesn't need clout

maxverstappen1 great work today y/nhamilton! loved seeing you last weekend. (♡ by author)

♡

[YOUTUBE: Lewis Hamilton's first interview with Ferrari]

♡

note: ermmmm what are these two muppets up to i dont even know they took my ideas and ran w them LOLSIES im def planning another part (since their contract marriage is two years long but.... they're obviously gonna fall in love)!! i wanna write the lovers part of enemies to lovers and lew's already getting jealous hehehe ♡ MUCH LOVE FROM GRACIE XOXO LOVE U ALL!!!!! ♡♡♡

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starsinthesky5 · 3 days ago

Note

yail blurb idea maybe???

joe and reader trying to do literally anything and joe keeps making those jokes

like they could be working out and all hes thinking and saying is abt taking her back to the bedroom ( and he does )

here's a little something something since i couldn't get the fic up today for YAIL's one year anniversary ;)

perpetually horny joe below!

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

it happens all the time.

they’ll be working out together, both of them focused—her in the middle of a set, joe spotting her, watching the way she moves, the little scrunch of her nose as she powers through. her ponytail swings with every rep, sweat glistening on her skin, and she bites her lip, determined to finish strong. joe tells himself to focus—spot her, don’t stare at her ass, spot her—but it’s impossible when she looks that good.

and then it hits him. the way her body moves, the way she exhales in little, breathy huffs, the way sweat beads at her collarbone, slipping down between the curves he knows so well, and suddenly, he’s not thinking about working out at all.

"you know," he says, his voice low and rough as she racks her weights. we could take this back to the bedroom. work up a different kind of sweat,".

she shoots him a look as she reaches for her water. "you’re ridiculous,".

"am i?" he steps closer, fingers ghosting over her hip, his body heat making hers spike even more. "or are you just scared you won’t be able to keep up?".

the challenge in his voice sends a shiver down her spine. she rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "joe,".

he just smirks, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, voice like sin against her skin. "c’mon, baby, let’s see who’s got more stamina,".

she exhales through her nose, tilting her head just slightly as his lips graze the sensitive skin under her ear. she can feel the heat radiating off of him, the way his breath fans against her damp skin, the way his fingers skim along the waistband of her shorts.

"we’re supposed to be working out," she points out, but her voice is already softer, breathier.

joe hums, not convinced. "we are working out," he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear now. "i’m just suggesting we take it to a more…private setting,".

she scoffs, shoving at his chest, but he barely budges. "you have no self-control, joe. it's 10:30 a.m,".

he grins, reaching for her water bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a slow sip before handing it back to her. "not when it comes to you,".

the way he says it—all raspy and quiet like it’s a simple fact—makes her stomach flip. but she holds her ground, tilting her head as she smirks up at him. "so, what? you can’t handle me doing a few reps without thinking about bending me over the weight bench?".

his smirk falters for a fraction of a second, and she knows she’s got him.

"jesus christ," he mutters under his breath, scrubbing a hand down his face.

she grins. "thought so,".

but she should know better than to challenge him, because in the next second, joe’s grabbing her wrist, pulling her flush against him, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"baby," he drawls, dragging his thumb over her pulse point. "don’t tempt me,".

her breath catches, heart hammering as she swallows.

he smirks. checkmate.

"now," he murmurs, fingers moving lower, gripping her hip. "are you gonna let me take you home? or do i have to throw you over my shoulder?".

her lips part, pulse racing. she hates how easily he gets to her. hates it, but loves it.

and, well—who is she to deny him?

"you’re paying for my post-workout smoothie," she finally mutters.

his grin is wolfish. "deal,".

or they’ll be out shopping—just running errands, nothing remotely suggestive about it—except joe still manages to find a way.

"you’d look real good in this," he muses, holding up some tiny little lace set he spotted while they were supposed to be picking up new sheets.

she lifts a brow, crossing her arms. "and what happened to being ‘smart with money’?".

"this is smart," he counters smoothly, holding the fabric between his fingers, eyes flicking between her and the delicate lace. "investment in our relationship. and we're like...mutli millionaires. this is hardly a dent in any of our pockets, even though i will be paying like usual,".

"you’re so full of shit," she laughed, eyeing the lacy red set.

"nah, baby." he leans in, voice dropping. "i just really wanna see you in it. and out of it,".

she smacks his arm, cheeks warming, but joe? oh, he just grins, because he knows exactly what he’s doing.

she rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but joe can see the tiny twitch at the corner of her lips. he steps closer, his free hand sliding around her waist, tugging her flush against him. "what?" he murmurs, all innocence, but his fingers are playing with the hem of her hoodie, slipping just beneath to brush against warm skin.

"we’re supposed to be buying sheets," she reminds him, though her voice is already softer, breathier.

"mm," joe hums, feigning thought. "and what if i want to get you something to wear on those sheets?".

her brows lift, unimpressed. "wear on the sheets?".

his lips twitch. "briefly,".

she snorts, pushing at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. doesn’t even wobble. just stays there, all tall and broad and warm, his hands staying, his breath spreading across her cheek.

"if i try it on," she says, tilting her chin up at him, "you’re not coming in the fitting room,".

his eyes flick down to her lips, then back up. "baby, i would never,".

she glares, knowing that's a damn lie, and he just grins.

she groans, snatching the lace set from his hands. "you are going to the register,".

he just smirks, watching her scurry off toward the fitting rooms, the little red number dangling from her fingers.

"gladly," he murmurs, already reaching for his wallet.

it happens at a friend’s house party—music playing, drinks flowing, bodies moving in easy conversation. she’s off chatting with some friends, her laughter ringing through the room, and joe? joe is leaning against the bar, nursing his drink, watching her with that look. the kind that makes her whole body tingle, like he’s already touching her from across the damn house.

he’s been patient. all night, he’s played it cool, nodded along to conversations, pretended like he wasn’t dying to have her closer. but now? now, with the way she keeps glancing at him, the way her dress clings to her like a second skin, the way she bites her lip around her straw—he’s about to lose it.

so when she finally makes her way back over to him, he doesn’t even give her a second to breathe before he leans in, lips brushing her ear, voice thick with heat.

"been thinkin’ about gettin’ you alone all night, baby,".

her breath catches, heat pooling in her stomach, but she refuses to give in so easily. she tilts her head, eyes flicking up at him, playful and knowing. "oh, yeah? that why you’re staring at me like that?".

his fingers find the small of her back, warm and insistent, slipping beneath the fabric of her top, skin to skin. his grip tightens, just slightly. "mhmm,".

she sips her drink, feigning nonchalance, though her pulse is hammering. "well, too bad," she teases. "i’m enjoying the party with our friends,".

joe just chuckles, quiet and knowing, his lips barely an inch from hers. "that’s cute, sweetheart," he murmurs, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against her spine, flashing her those irresistible bedroom eyes.

her breath catches, but she keeps her composure—barely. the way he’s looking at her, all heat and promise, like he already knows exactly how this night is going to end, sends a shiver down her spine.

"cute, huh?" she says, tilting her head, trying to keep her voice steady despite the way her body betrays her, leaning into his touch. "is that what you think?".

joe smirks slowly, fingers pressing just a little firmer against her back. "mm," he hums, dipping his head so his lips ghost along the shell of her ear. "think it’s cute you’re pretending you don’t wanna leave with me right now,".

her breath stutters. his voice is all gravel and honey, thick with something dark and knowing, and it’s doing dangerous things to her determination.

she could fight it—keep teasing, keep pretending like she’s not two seconds from giving in—but the way his fingertips trace absentminded circles against her lower back, the way his voice drips with something wicked and irresistible, the way he looks at her like he’s already imagining all the ways he’s going to ruin her—yeah, she’s toast.

so she exhales, lets her fingers trail down his arm before slipping into his hand, lacing their fingers together. "one drink," she tries, but it’s weak at best.

joe chuckles again, squeezing her hand, flashing her that smug, lopsided grin that tells her he already knows she’s full of shit.

"sure, sweetheart," he murmurs, pressing a sluggish, lingering kiss just below her ear, his lips barely brushing her skin. "one drink,".

but they both know damn well she won’t be finishing it.

but the worst one—the one that really gets her?

the card game.

the air is stale with competition, both of them sitting cross-legged on the couch, knees brushing, a mess of playing cards scattered between them. her brows are furrowed, lips pursed in deep concentration as she studies her hand, determined to win. joe watches her, amused—she’s so damn focused, so convinced she’s got the upper hand. and honestly? she might.

but joe’s got a different kind of victory in mind.

he leans forward, elbows on his knees, his smirk mischievous, "you know," he drawls, voice dropping to that honeyed rasp that makes her shiver, "there’s a different kinda game we could be playing right now,".

she doesn’t look up, too focused. "joe, hush and pick a card,".

"nah," he shakes his head, grin widening as he tosses his card onto the pile. "i think i’d rather play strip poker,".

her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. "you are insufferable joseph lee burrow,".

"nah, baby," he counters smoothly, dragging his fingers along the curve of her thigh, slow, teasing, just enough to make her breath falter. "i just know how to have a little fun,".

she glares at him, but her body betrays her—the way her thighs clench slightly, the way her chest rises a little faster. joe notices everything.

"joe—,".

he leans in, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "bet i can make you fold real quick,".

his fingers trace higher, grazing the hem of her shorts, feather-light but willful. she swallows, heart hammering, heat pooling low in her stomach. she knows exactly what he’s doing—knows this is just another one of his games—but damn it, she’s already losing. "you're always horny," she mutters, but her voice wavers.

joe just smirks, slow and smug, eyes locked on hers as he pushes his luck, his palm spreading warm over her bare thigh. "mm, maybe," he murmurs, "but you love it,".

she exhales sharply, tossing her cards down. "you are the worst,".

joe chuckles, shifting closer, his lips grazing her jaw, his hands already slipping beneath her shirt, fingertips tracing along her ribs as he begins to move his hand to her back, inching towards her bra clasp. "nah, sweetheart," he breathes, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, "pretty sure you love this,".

and she absolutely did. even if she put up a fight at first ;)

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #yail #yail asks #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow fic

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wlwsoccerfics · 1 day ago

Text

The Most Wonderful Gift(LeahWilliamsonXMeadReader)

A/N: Happy Birthday to our England Captain. ❤️

Warnings: mentions of giving birth

Summary: Leah gets the best gift ever on her birthday.

It was almost midnight, an hour to go and your wife's 28th Birthday was there. But right now it looked like your Daughter was eager to share a Birthday with her Mommy because you were having contractions & your water just broke while you were standing in front of the bathroom sink, holding onto it. Guess it was probably a good idea to wake up Leah now.

"Leah? Babe! I could use some Help!" You yelled from the bathroom and she was quickly awake. A bit confused at first.

"you okay? Are you trying to surprise me for my birthday? Cause it's still an hour away!" She stated. Walking towards the bathroom though. Cause she heard that your voice came from there and the Lights were on.

"my water just broke!" You admitted and she almost knocked down the bathroom door stepping inside.

"okay. Okay. We got this! Let me help you out of this pants and then i will call the midwife and Beth." Your wife told you. Being by your side right away. Gently rubbing your back when you grabbed a hold of the sink again cause a contraction was hitting you again.

Thankfully your Home was ready for a homebirth. You two knew very early on that's what you wanted. Well you did cause Leah said it's our Body and your choice. You were the one that needed to feel save and secure.

She helped you get Out of the pants quickly and then helped you lay down on the bed. You tried breathing through the pain. But that only did so much.

"god that hurts." You groaned out. Leah quickly took your hand in hers and dialed the number of your midwife.

"you are a Rockstar Babe. For real!" She let you know. Offering you a gentle smile.

"thanks." You breathed out.

"Maura, it's Leah. Y/n is in Labor!" Leah let your midwife know.

"i will be there in half an hour!" Maura quickly said and gave Leah some instructions. After the call ended your wife grabbed a few towels & a cold washcloth for your forehead. She then called Beth, your sister. To let her and Viv (your best friend) know that you were in Labor. Cause you wanted them both there as well.

"Williamson, you better have a good reason to call me at almost midnight." Beth said, sounding like she was half asleep.

"your sister is in Labor!" Leah let her know and you could hear Beth waking up Viv. Quickly getting out of bed.

"we will be there asap!" Your sister yelled before ending the call.

Your midwife showed up exactly 20 minutes after the call and checked If you were ready to push, which you were. Leah was now sitting behind you so you could lean against her.

"okay Love, you got this!" Leah told you.

"you did well so far. You can be proud of yourself." Maura said gently. You smiled at her and started pushing.

"god this hurts like hell." You groaned, leaning even more into Leah.

"my Rockstar, i know you got this! I am so proud!" Your wife whispered out.

You were quite thankful that it was over after a few more pushes. You were also quite thankful that you weren't in Labor für long cause you had heard all of these horror stories.

"congrats again on your healthy Baby Girl!" The midwife told you after examing the little one. Beth and Viv walked in, really surprised that their niece already has been born. Leah was currently holding her.

"hey Viv, hey sis, please meet your niece Deja Zoé Bethany Williamson-Mead." You told them.

"wait you named her after me?" Beth stated and teared up. So did Viv. She thought this was incredibly sweet. Now you and Leah were crying as well... Again.

"yes we did." You answered.

"want to hold her?" Leah asked both your sister and your best friend.

A few hours later, after Beth and Viv both got in some Baby snuggles they went Home. So did Maura. The bedsheets and covers were changed so everything was clean now. Which meant you, Leah and Deja were all cuddled up now. Enjoying your Family time.

"Happy Birthday, to my two Favorite Girls in the whole wide world!" You told your wife and kissed her and then leaned down to Deja, who was asleep in your wifes Arms and gently kissed her tiny nose.

"best birthday Gift ever." Leah whispered out.

#woso x reader #woso fic #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson x mead reader #beth mead x reader #viv miedema x reader

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jayden-killer · 1 day ago

Text

Don't let me go. ‹𝟹

Eddie pushes away his need of affection. That is, until he meets you.

warnings: ig angst to fluff(?), reader is fem bc yes, al munson mention lmao.

Eddie needed affection.

Having someone cuddling him is what he has always wanted; however, never admitted, especially since his mother passed away. He doesn’t need a maternal figure, far from it. Growing up, this need is repressed over time, inculcating this idea that it is not necessary because he can live without it. Yet this desire resurfaces in front of couples who embrace, holding hands, sharing their personal space. After all, he doesn’t need it.

He’s a freak.

Who would ever want to be next to a freak? A person who will never succeed in life? Who may end up like his father?

He cannot cope with the discomfort in his heart, so he tries to repress it once again.

And again.

That was his belief until he met you. It wasn’t a chance meeting at all. One of his teachers had said that he needed a tutor. His school grades were not stable, not to mention the poor attention he paid to almost every class. He would never have expected his tutor to be the most beautiful, kind person in the world.

Date after date, you have opened to each other, sharing a comfortable silence.

Your relationship started after 4 months of seeing each other; everything was going well. One of those days, Eddie thought it would be nice to invite you into his trailer, stating that his uncle would come back late to catch up on some overdue hours.

So you found yourself in the heat, on his poorly groomed sofa, focused on the vision of the musical The Rocky Horror Picture Show. One of Eddie’s favourite movies.

"Love?"

"Mh?"

"Do you really...wanna hold my hand?"

His girlfriend’s eyes were confused. "Why would I be bothered by it, Teddy?"

Teddy. God, he loved her when he called him that.

Eddie met her eyes and thought for a moment to lie, but... did it make sense? Was it really worth lying? What if she knew about it? She knew that her beloved had a good intuition. He also knew that women did not miss anything and would not get away with it easily.

So, with a deep sigh, he played with his girlfriend’s fingers and confessed everything. His feeling of repulsion towards love, of inequality, how he had always tried to fool him and how he was not...worthy.

"Eddie..." The girl’s fingers squeezed more of hers. "I must admit, I suspected it."

Eddie raised his eyebrows. Good sense, indeed. "How?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "You weren’t very convinced when I hugged you in public on certain occasions or when I kissed you on the stairs of the school. You looked... tense. I knew something was wrong."

On Eddie passed a feeling of shame.

What a shithead, he began to think.

"And I understand how you feel. Sometimes it happens to me too, and it will definitely never be the same feeling as yours, but..." The girl caressed his cheek, gently swiping her thumb up and down, "you have to start believing it. Also, you don’t really believe all that crap going around about you? Unsubstantiated bullshit by ignorant people?" They both chuckled.

"Right," said Eddie, still smiling. "Maybe I just have to believe it a little bit more." He paused, this time stroking her cheek. " I have to work on it. It won’t happen immediately, but...with time"

"With time," she repeated. She silently got closer to him, as if she wanted to kiss him, but fearing that she might bother him. Eddie appreciated the gesture.

"You mustn’t think it bothers me. I love it. I love to feel your lips on mine." He gave her a quick kiss and took her cheeks in his hands.

Eddie memorized every detail of her wonderful face, with red cheeks and eyes that conveyed security and love. "Okay?"

She nodded, smiling. "Okay. I’ll be by your side the whole time. If you ever need to talk about it again, you know I’m here for that."

"I know, baby. I know. I don’t know how to thank you yet."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "10 dollars an hour for each psychological counseling."

Eddie threw his hands in the air. "This is a burglary without a gun! I’m already broke, then you go too!"

The two spent the evening laughing, enjoying the movie, and Eddie seemed to have a lighter weight on his shoulders. At least for now.

☆

taglist: @justalotoffanfiction

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn eddie munson #angst #eddie munson x reader angst #fluff #angst to fluff #stranger things headcanons #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n

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yourstrulyrani · 2 days ago

Note

Hi luv!

I am new to Simon Riley but I am DOWN BAD lmao

Could u please write something about mommy reade being insecure and struggling with like body image after pregnancy and during post-partum. Like being a REAL MAN he is, he just adores his mama and loves how her body changed and created their baby.

U can totally change it however u like, i am bad at explaining 😭😭

I absolutely loved ur last dad!Simon imagine, I could never 😭

Keep it up 🫶🏻🫶🏻

dad!simon riley x mom!reader

blurb: dad!simon soothes your insecurities about your postpartum body. cw&tws: body image/weight, suggestive right at the end // wc: 1279

a/n: aw hii you’re so kind, thank you! & don’t worry you explained it perfectly and i am so in love with this idea so here it is, thank you for your kind words btw 🥹🫶🏼 i want to bring attention to anyone reading who needs to hear it, that no matter your weight or how your body looks: you’re enough. your looks are not “hideous” or anything else along those lines just because society tells you otherwise. in no way do i have the intention of promoting body negativity/shaming. every body is a body worthy of love and respect as long as you treat others the same. please take care of yourselves & love yourselves as much as possible 🤍.

With the spare time you have now as your baby is asleep in her nursery, you take off your tank top, now clad in only a nursing bra and your underwear.

You step in front of the mirror. You thought your heart sunk enough when you saw the number on the scale, but you were wrong. You run your hands along your stomach. The skin is still saggy from the pregnancy and birth, and the stretch marks from your pregnancy that were once faint now boldly start at your hips and vine their way to your belly button. At this point, you let the tears fall. You want the body you had before pregnancy. You want the body where you could see where your waist ended and your hips started. You want the body where your breasts don't have stretch marks. You want the number you had on the scale from before. You don’t even recognize yourself.

You think: How did I let myself go this much?

You break down on the wooden floor of the bedroom, the hot tears falling on the cold floor.

“Sweetheart?” His voice calls out to you.

You forgot he was home too.

You look up through your tears, a blurry image but enough to know it's your husband at the doorway of your shared bedroom. Simon doesn’t hesitate to walk over and sit down with you on the floor, placing his hands on your cheeks and rubbing your tears off with his thumbs. “Baby.”

Your eyes shut, letting more tears fall at the pressure. You can’t look at him. You can’t be with him. Your body isn’t enough. Enough for you. Enough for him. “Baby, look at me.” His voice tightens along with his hands on your face.

You whimper in pain, “No.”

His hands move from your cheeks to your elbows, lifting you up gently. “Here, let’s get you up on the bed.” You have been recently so happy with the arrival of your baby, Simon too. It pains him to see you like this. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.” He pleads gently until you finally open your eyes.

As soon as you sit on the bed and your bloodshot eyes weakly gaze at him, his chest tightens. Your breathing is labored yet you manage to get out a few words, “My body, Simon.” You wrap your stomach around your arms, clutching at the body that’s giving you trouble. “It’s so ugly. I’m sorry.” You hiccup, the crying making it harder to breathe. “My stretch marks, my belly, my swollen legs and feet. Everything. I’m sorry I’m not as pretty as before.”

“You don’t think you’re pretty?”

“I’m hideous, Si.”

Simon’s ears rang when you called yourself that word: Hideous. His gorgeous, dedicated, sweet wife. The mother to their baby, the love and light of his life, and here she is talking about herself like this.

“Stand up for me, sweetheart.” Simon grabs your hands and you reluctantly do as he says. He tugs at your bra, “Can I take this off?”

“But the doctor said no sex for six wee—“

“I know, baby. Don’t worry. Not planning on that right now. You need to heal." Your nod of permission makes him unclasp your bra. He cups your cheek and places a kiss on your forehead before guiding you by the shoulders to the mirror. Here you are, again, facing the woman you can’t stand.

Simon stands behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder and his hands on your arms. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses your neck, the touch of affection featherlight but heavy with love.

Simon’s hands move down to your breasts, cupping one in each hand. His hands are big enough to let his thumbs trace over the stretch marks on them. “These stretch marks are normal and perfect. Your body grew selflessly for our girl and this shows it.” His eyes gaze into yours through the mirror. “I don’t think your stretch marks are hideous. I think they’re a physical sign of your strength.” His hands give your breasts a final rub, then move on to rub the stretch marks across your hips and stomach. You turn your head to the side, disgusted at looking at yourself for any longer.

Your husband clicks his tongue. “Look, baby. Please. Right there in the mirror. Look for me.” Simon glides his hands along your stomach. He squeezes gently, enough to feel the softness without hurting you. You turn your head back to face the mirror, and Simon gives you a warm smile through the mirror. You look at your body, analyzing every inch. The stretch marks you once saw as something that should be disgusted over, you now see them as a physical witness to your pregnancy. You start to think they're not so bad.

His hands circled all around your stomach. “And your belly you said? Here is where you carried our baby. You let her grow here. Your stomach is not hideous. It changed beautifully. It’s softer than before and I love it. I love feeling it. I love looking at it.” He keeps reassuring you in your ear and you can't help but to shiver. You always loved Simon's voice, but the combination of it and his honest reassurances does something else to you.

You slowly start to feel better, but your doubts still rise about how Simon feels. “But I don’t feel pretty enough for you. I’ve changed so much after this pregnancy.”

“You are always pretty enough for me. You are always beautiful. You’re perfect, mama. Your body changed because you got pregnant and that’s normal. I’m not disgusted. If anything I am in awe of you and your body’s ability.”

Simon walks around to stand in front of you now, making you look up at him by lifting your chin up with his finger. His head lowers to kiss your forehead, his lips kissing their way down to your cheek, and lastly to your neck. “Believe me when I say your body has changed in the best way possible, my love. Every inch. Every stretch mark and curve. It’s all beauty to me. You are beauty to me. Love yourself, please.”

Your eyes tear up. Not because you hate your body anymore, but now realizing just how much you should love it and how much the man you love loves it. "I love you," you whisper. Both of you look into each other's eyes, none of you denying the amount of love in each pair.

"I love you too, mama." Simon brings you into an embrace, wrapping his forearms around your upper back. His face finds the crook of your neck, his lips grazing your most sensitive spot as he speaks. "My beautiful woman. Just a few more weeks and I'll prove it to you just how beautiful you are." He softly kisses your neck, thinking about how fortunate he is to have a woman who loves him like you do.

You giggle and cross your arms playfully, “How so?” You know exactly what he means, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it out loud.

Simon chuckles before moving his head away from your neck to look down at your face. He admires every slope. He loves the way your eyelashes compliment your eyes, the way your lip color is the perfect shade to kiss, and your cheeks soft enough to hold in his hands. He does the latter, his words laced with suppressed desire as he whispers, “The same way I got you knocked up.”

You think: How did I get so lucky?

(brb gonna go cry UGH i need a man to praise me like he's doing RIGHT NOW.)

~ yours truly, rani ♥︎

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x you #simon riley #simon riley cod #dad!simon riley #dadsimonriley #dad simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader

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crushmeeren · 2 days ago

Text

// prompt list ideas!

⋆ ⬪ note ; been in a terrible, no good, awful writing slump lately. and i’ve been itching to write some nsfw, so here i am. she told me i didn’t need to credit her (but i’m gonna anyways for letting me use the ideas from her list). thanks @dollyfetti !

⋆ ⬪ note x 2 ; these are short and silly one shots to help raise my motivation to finish other projects, so have fun reading them! it was also to challenge myself not to make these a million paragraphs long… i failed.

| CW ; sex, sex, and more sex — do i really need to put everyone is at least in their mid 20’s in all my fics or????? |

⤷ ⋆ ft. itachi, megumi, kenma, shouto ⋆

master list

⋆ itachi ; ⌜ ¡! do you still hate me? ¡! ⌟

“Itachi?”

No answer.

You arch a brow, eyes rolling with a fond shake of your head. One more callout should get him to show himself. “Itachi, come out here please! I know it was an accident baby, I’m not mad, promise.”

Itachi pokes his head out the door, then sulks his way out of the bedroom and towards the couch, looking like a kicked puppy. He’s clutching a bundle of material to his chest. “Do you still hate me?” He pouts.

You giggle, rising to your feet, and grab the bottom of his shirt to pull him closer. “Clothes can be replaced, my love.”

“But I ruined your favorite t-shirt! I can’t get the god awful coffee stain to come out.”

“Itachi,” you say firmly, coaxing the wadded shirt from clenched fingers, regarding it briefly before tossing it on the coffee table. “Stop worrying. Please believe me when I tell you I’m not upset.”

Itachi’s presses his lips together. “If that is what you wish, princess.”

He doesn’t believe you.

You stare at him and he stares right back. “Fine,” you sigh, dropping to the couch. “Make it up to me.”

Itachi’s eyes widen, glancing between your legs. “I’m sorry?”

You point to the floor. “If you insist on feeling so guilty, show me you’re sorry. Eat me out, Itachi. Once I cum all is forgiven,” you offer.

Itachi kneels before his queen. Chilly fingers slip under your waistband, hips lifting as he tugs off your soft sleep shorts and panties. He presses your knees wide open, trailing soft kisses up your inner thigh, pausing to inhale deeply at the crease next to your pussy. Itachi moans.

A warm tongue dips inside, laying flat and dragging up to your clit, kissing it. He traces slow circles that curl your toes.

Itachi loves eating your pussy, and he’s fucking amazing at it.

Two slender fingers slip into your pussy and curl right away, petting your g-spot over and over. He places slick lips on your clit and shakes his head side to side.

Your stomach tightens, twitching thighs kept apart by his shoulders. “Tachi,” you moan. “Your fingers — mm fuck, gonna make me cum,” you whine, fisting silky hair.

He doesn’t stop, eyes fluttering shut to focus. You’re balanced on the edge of the couch, giving the perfect view as his free hand vanishes into his sweats, pulling out his heavy cock. He strokes himself twice from base to tip and heat surges through your veins, pussy clinging to Itachi.

You cry out his name and yank his hair, tipping into the backrest. Your husband whines, doubling his efforts. With a squeak, your heel comes up to push his shoulder. Itachi gets the message. When he pulls away his lips are cherry red and swollen.

Chest heaving, you crane your neck to peak at his cock, noticing the desperate grip he’s got on his base. He shifts in place. You meet his blown out gaze, loving the bright pink flush on his cheeks.

“Say you believe me and I’ll let you fuck me.”

Itachi rushes to answer, “I believe you.”

⋆ megumi ; ⌜ ¡! goodnight to my wife, fuck the rest of you. ¡! ⌟

Drunk Megumi does not often come out to play.

He’s a little louder, a little more vulgar, and it’s a breeze to crawl under his skin. Despite all of that, he’s a sweet puppy for you and you alone.

An empty bottle of sake tips over when Megumi’s hand side swipes it. You’re quick to right it, giving the waitress a sheepish smile and telling her it’d be best not to bring another, regardless of Gojo’s insistence that it’s his birthday and they should drink themselves sick.

“Sorry,” Megumi mumbles, slumping against your side and resting his forehead on your temple. He presses a lingering kiss to your cheek in apology, the sweet alcohol on his breath tickling your nose.

You laugh in good nature, pushing him to sit up straight. “It’s okay gumi, I want you to have fun tonight,” you reassure with a soft smile, brushing stray hair off his face.

Megumi’s lids lower, a small smirk twisting his mouth. “I want to have fun with you when we get home,” he murmurs.

“Megumi-chan!” Gojo sings from across the table. “How will you have fun if you have whiskey dick?”

He receives a middle finger in return.

The two of you leave earlier than the rest, everyone calling out their goodnights, Yuji giggling into Nobara’s shoulder when Gojo teases Megumi about whiskey dick again.

Megumi whirls to face the table, unsteady on his feet, and points at Gojo. “Ya know what? M’only sayin’ goodnight to my wife, fuck the rest of you!”

Everyone bursts with laughter, and you cover your own with a cough, holding Megumi’s hand tight the entire walk home.

Getting inside? Easy. Getting to bed? Quite difficult.

Megumi decided to make out hot and heavy with you in the kitchen, ignoring the glass of water you’d offered, and has managed to bend you over the counter. Pants and underwear pooled at your ankles.

“Gumi!” You gasp, pussy being stretched by a cock it’s not quite ready for, pleasure burning white hot in your belly at the same time. You press your forehead to the cool marble surface, hands outstretched in front of you.

“Fuck me,” Megumi says through his teeth, searching for your wrists and twisting your arms to secure them behind your back. He thrusts in short, sharp snaps of his hips, like he’s got something to prove. “M’always fuckin’ hard for you babygirl, promise.”

“Oh god! Y-yeah, I know you are. Faster gumi, please!” You plead, spine arching, chest lifting off the counter.

Megumi gathers both your wrists in one hand, freeing one to hike your knee up on the counter. “Anything you want, baby girl,” he breathes, fucking you until you squirt all over.

Your husband makes a mess of you in the kitchen and sends Gojo the middle finger emoji the next day.

⋆ kenma ; ⌜ ¡! i wish you’d just listen. ¡! ⌟

“What the fuck dude!” Kuroo’s irritated voice crackles through Kenma’s headset, loud enough for you to hear. “We’re getting our asses kicked, are you even paying attent — shit!”

Kenma, in fact, is not paying attention. Not to Kuroo, not to the video game, not to the live stream he paused.

His undivided attention rests on you, riding his cock sweet and slow, knees shoved between his thighs and the arms of his gaming chair. The leather keeps sticking to your skin. Kenma moans low in his throat when you bottom out, grinding hard in his lap, pussy squeezing the life out of his cock.

Thank god he flipped his mic to mute.

Originally, Kenma’s plan was a brief break from his stream for a snack. He’d sat down, popped open a bag of chips, and jumped a foot in the air when you appeared out of nowhere. Your husband had lost track of time. You pouted, reminding him of his promise to have sex when you got home. He swore only thirty more minutes and it’d be done.

So, you climbed into his lap.

It was too easy to get his dick hard. Trade a few soft kisses with him, place the sharp sting of a hickey on his neck, and he was throbbing between your legs.

The slow roll of your hips has Kenma’s head tipping back into the headrest, eyes disappearing into his skull. Your arms slip around his neck as you dip down to place your lips to his ear.

“I wish you’d just listen, Kenz,” you murmur, breath catching when Kenma’s hips jerk up, hitting your g-spot. “Then I wouldn’t have to fuck you in the middle of your stream. I bet you want your fans to see your hot wife riding you, right Kenma?”

Kenma whines, cheeks flushing dark pink, gaze growing heavy lidded. “Uh huh. Your pussy’s so pretty — oh fuck,” he gasps. “M’ cumming!” He grips your hips harder, pushes you up, yanks you down, and grinds his hips upwards. His cock twitches a few times, whimpering when you tighten your pussy on purpose.

You allow him a moment to catch his breath before moving, using his shoulders as leverage to bounce. His protests are cut off when you tell him you haven’t cum yet.

When you leave, Kenma’s shorts remain pulled taut around the middle of thighs, dick out. He gives some lame excuse about bad WiFi being the reason he’s ending the stream early.

He sounds fucked out when he speaks to Kuroo, breathless and happy. As you stroll naked from of the room, Kuroo’s boisterous laugh hits your ears.

“Bro, did you just fuck your wife on live?!”

⋆ shouto ; ⌜ ¡! we’re not going to bed until we’ve made up. ¡! ⌟

The longest day of your life ends when you leave your agency.

Until it doesn’t.

You’d forgotten to stop by the store for dinner, so you had to backtrack. You arrive in a rush only to find said store is out of the specific sauce that’s vital to your dish. Frustration builds in your chest, but you remind yourself hanging a left in a few blocks will put you at the other location.

About a million people stop you to talk — it’s what you get for wearing your hero costume in public. To be fair, you were under the impression you’d be heading straight home. Finally you’re able to break free, glancing at your phone to see Shouto’s sent you a text that’s a bunch of question marks.

You were supposed to be home an hour ago.

You don’t reply, too caught up in hurrying to the other location. Your chest is tight, agitation becoming a physical lump in your throat. In the store, you see a bottle that vaguely familiar, buy it, and start the long trek home.

Shouto’s in the living room on the phone when you shut your front door and lock it. You toe off your shoes and stop to wave at him. He smiles, but it’s tight, and you know something’s wrong. His Father is probably on the other end.

You frown when he turns out of sight and go to the kitchen, seeing as it’s best to leave Shouto be right now. Setting the grocery bag on the table, you pull out the jar of a sauce.

It’s the wrong. fucking. jar.

You slam it on the counter, cursing to the heavens as your eyes burn, tears welling up. Shouto rushes in, hand covering the speaker to his phone. He asks what’s wrong, checking you from head to toe for an injury.

Your lower lip wobbles. “I got the wrong sauce.”

Shouto’s expression pinches, the sound of his Father being obnoxious carrying across the room. “Stop overreacting. You scared me,” he snaps, tone icy.

Tears flow over your lash line and down your cheeks, stomach dropping. “Fuck you, Shouto. Don’t talk to me like that, asshole,” you sneer.

His expression morphs into shock, then flattens to something blank. He hangs up the phone in the middle of his Father’s sentence.

You fight. Not the worst you’ve ever had, but you do slam the door to your bedroom shut in his face. You remain in there the rest of the night, too upset to eat. Shouto doesn’t come to you either.

You crawl into bed early tonight, eyes puffy, nose stuffed, with a pounding in your temples. The door creaks open slowly, muffled footsteps approaching the bed. You face the wall and ignore Shouto. The mattress dips.

“Baby,” Shouto tries, voice apologetic. He places a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

You sniffle. “Okay.” You don’t want to talk Shouto. At all.

“Please,” he begs. “We can’t go to bed until we’ve made up. My Mother and Father used to go bed angry. I — I can’t.”

Guilt squeezes your chest. With a sigh you flip to your back. Shouto looks heartbroken, chewing his bottom lip raw.

“I’m sorry for calling you an asshole,” you relent, opening your arms. “C’mere, giant baby.”

Shouto lights up, shifting to get between your legs, snaking his arms around your waist, and buries his face into your neck. He squeezes, hard, and kisses your throat. The spot tingles. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. “I love you, I never want to hurt you.”

Your hands run through soft, short hair. “I love you too Sho, it’s okay.” He makes a sad sound, so you frame his cheeks and lift his head, making sure to lock eyes. “I forgive you, Sho.”

Shouto eyes flicker back and forth, searching, and he kisses you. Sweet, tender presses of his lips, shifting towards heated and needy. His tongue pushes into your mouth, a hot glide against yours, hands already fumbling to rid you of your underwear.

His are gone even faster.

You open your legs further to fit his frame, the blunt tip of his cock catching on your pussy when he angles his hips.

“Will it hurt?” Shouto whispers. His brows furrow in concern, forehead resting on yours.

You shake your head. “It won’t. I want you, please.”

He pushes just the head in, rocking with shallow thrusts until he’s bottoming out with each roll of his hips. You plant your heels on the backs of his thighs and Shouto grabs your wrists, pinning them on either side your head.

It’s sweet and fragile, how Shouto makes love to you. He forces you to keep eye contact, the pleasure in your pelvis building one thrust at a time. You plead with him to move faster, harder, he refuses.

“No baby, I want you to appreciate every single stroke.”

Your face shatters in pleasure when you cum, and he keeps you pinned with ease. Never changing the rhythm of his hips, fucking you through the high, whispering, “good girl, you look so pretty on my cock.”

Shouto’s voice cracks when his dick throbs, smothering you with a kiss, begging you to swallow his moans. You do.

Shouto clings to you after, wrapping you in his warm embrace, and you realize he’s right.

Never to go to bed angry.

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its-me-your-bicon · 1 day ago

Text

Stray Love - Joaquín Torres x Reader.

Summary: Joaquín brings home a little someone as an act of kindness.

Word count: 1244.

No pronouns used for reader.

Warnings: Pet names in Spanish, I guess?

Author’s notes: I love him <3 not my best work, but the idea was too cute not to write.

Joaquín was late.

Not to the degree of having to call authorities or watch the news in order to see where the hell he was, but late nonetheless.

You weren’t mad about it, but ever since he’s become the Falcon, you’re not sure he fully understands the degree of your worries whenever he gets held back without being able to write you about it.

Weirdly, you hear the ringing of your doorbell, not expecting any visitors and knowing Joaquín has a key to the shared apartment.

You expected the worst.

Looking through the peephole, though… You see the face of your boyfriend poured in the rain from outside, apparently holding something with both arms.

“Joaquín, what the h—?”

Once the door was open, you could see your boyfriend carrying a stray dog with both arms and just as wet as him. Its coat is mid-length and honey-colored, although darkened by the water.

“I know what this looks like…” Joaquín started, “But I couldn’t just leave her in the rain! Sorry I’m late, but she wouldn’t stop running from me, no matter what I did!”

Joaquín always had a soft spot for the little guys in the streets, so it’s not the first time he has brought an animal to your shared apartment, even though it definitely wasn’t allowed by the building. You don’t have it in you to discourage him from it, though it could damage your reputation and contract with the owner.

“Just come in…” you tell him after a sigh.

He smiles that gorgeous smile of his and kisses you on your cheek as he enters your shared home, “I love you so much, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, yeah…” you smile a little at the sight of Joaquín putting the little girl down and coaxing her with a towel before addressing his own state. They both must be freezing…

“Let’s give her a warm bath, mi amor… you’re already wet, so it’ll be easier.” You joke and wink at him as he looks up to you.

He does as he’s told, and you both try to get your new guest to follow into the tub by giving her treats along the way. You don’t have any dogs of your own, but you keep treats inside for this exact situation (and to sometimes interact with the dogs in the nearby park).

Once she’s partially fed with treats, she gets in the tub with a little help from Joaquín and some reassurance from the both of you.

You assess from top to bottom to see if she has any injuries that need immediate attention, but you find none, so you proceed with the warm water. Occasionally spraying Joaquín with the shower hose.

“Hey!” He protests when it becomes obvious you’re doing it on purpose, “So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” He says as he gets shampoo on your shirt as revenge.

You two just laugh the situation away and keep washing the dog until she’s done for drying.

“I’ll do it, Joaquín. Just get in the shower and change your clothes.” You needed a change yourself, but he’s in dire need considering how he initially entered.

He agrees and gets to it, just as you bring a towel and a few more treats to handle her easier into it.

She’s a kind dog, and you can tell friendly too, but she's just scared. You leave her to food and water by herself to give her some space, just as Joaquín gets out of the washroom in a towel and goes to your shared room for clothes.

“What do you think of the name “Delta”?” He asks, a little muffled by being in different rooms, but you hear him clear enough.

“Joaquín, no.” You tell him as you walk to the bedroom “You know it gets more difficult to let them go once they get a name…”

“But baby! She totally deserves a name. Don’t you sweet girl?” As if on cue, ‘Delta’ barks twice at Joaquín. “See?” He says totally pleased with the outcome. You roll your eyes.

“Come on, Angel.” He gets close to you and puts his hands on your shoulders “I’ll get her a family soon enough. I always do.”

That he does. Delta is not the first, nor will she be the last, stray to pass through that door, but somehow Joaquín always finds someone who can take care of them in one way or another. Both your jobs don’t allow you much time to be home, thus it's not ideal.

Even so, Delta ended up six more days with you. Joaquín would get her in and out through the back door and hack the building’s cameras to play the same image of an empty corridor every time he went for a morning run with her.

As you suspected, Delta was a sweet girl who warmed up to the two of you fairly quickly, but goodbyes were in store as Joaquín got in touch with one of many host families he has collected over the years.

“Joaquín, are you crying?” You ask in bed with him the day before you have to give her up. He was lying down with Delta on his chest as he hugged her.

“I’m not!” He laughs with clearly wet eyes “I’ll just miss her, y’know?”

“I know, baby… Me too” You give both of them a kiss on the forehead. Delta gets closer to Joaquín’s neck at the action with a displeased expression, perhaps jealous of the attention you give to your boyfriend. Both you and Joaquín laugh at the action.

It’s not a secret that animals usually get closer to Joaquín while living under your roof. You accepted it long ago. He just has that kind of energy about him.

“Girl! That’s my boyfriend, you hear me?” You give her a scratch on the head, hard enough for some of her hair to lie disheveled.

Joaquín grabs your hand before you retrieve it completely.

“Thanks, mi vida… For sticking around for all this craziness.” He gives a shy smile as he says so.

“It’s not crazy to care for others, Joaquín… That’s your biggest strength, and I adore you for it.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

Needless to say, goodbyes the next day were bittersweet. But after having taken care of her, checking up everything was alright at the vet, and given her sweet nature, you had no doubt she would find her forever home soon enough.

Joaquín insisted on receiving updates from her temporary hosts, and after much reassurance from them, you finally get to return hand in hand to your own home.

“I’m proud of you, baby bird. You handled this one very well.” You give him a congratulatory kiss on the side of his lips.

“Yeah, yeah… You won’t tell Sam about the crying part, will you?” He wears his best pleading face as he says so. You two stop walking at that.

“Maybe… What’s in it for me in exchange for my silence?” You ask as you wrap your arms around his neck to emphasize your request.

“I can think of a few things…” He gives your waist a squeeze with his hands as he reaches for a kiss.

Life may be unpredictable and chaotic for all creatures on earth, but having people like Joaquín on your life gives you hope for the future. Suit or no suit, he tries his best to never give up on others.

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquín torres x reader #the falcon x reader #avengers x reader #mcu x reader #marvel x reader #joaquin torres imagine #joaquín torres imagine #the falcon imagine #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #joaquin torres fanfiction #joaquín torres fanfiction #the falcon fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #my fics

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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

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Finally doing my commentary here ❤️‍🔥 I really needed some time to even digest everything this masterpiece had to offer. And one particular part has even haunted me since then and has popped up multiple times during random chores lol. Truly shows how impactful this was ☺️🫶

Dean realizes something else then; the decision you’re making is changing the course of your whole damn life…and it’s his fault.

Well... It takes two to tango, buddy. I think you can lighten up lol

Apparently, condoms are fragile little shits.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours and achingly familiar. But ultimately, it’s chaste. He pulls away and settles back in his seat. When you blink your eyes back open, your expression is slack in shock.

Much like her, I fully freaked out at that part!!! Like, wtf, man!!! And all the while, my mind also went: "Well, he's surely gonna end it with Lisa now. It's the most logical conclusion." But NOPE! Our boy went a different way 😂

And I think it totally makes sense since he's still so freaking young!!! (He honestly reminded me of Buck in 911 lol – Idk if you watch it but he was very much a player firefighter like Dean) Essentially, they're both babies having another baby. It's already hard when you're a couple, but both of them being separate entities through this in a way makes it even harder. Although they try to be a unity, it's completely different since Dean isn't gonna be there 24/7 (which he also fully realizes the extent of it when she starts dating Benny).

But man, I wanted to slap him left and right, shake him awake, and tell him to get his head outta his goddamn ass 😆

This will be the recipe your son will grow up on, and every time he eats them, he’ll remember how much you loved him.

I was the exact same 😂😂 I still make my son most of his food myself instead of store bought (like apple sauce, bread, cookies etc.) ❤️

Now at seven months into your pregnancy, you’ve gotten to the embarrassing “waddle” stage.

Felt that lmao. Luckily, Robbie didn't sit on her ischiatic nerve and numbed half her leg too 🙄 I felt like a pinguin who got ran over by a truck 😂

“Benny! It’s good to see you.” “Yeah, been…a while,” he chuckles, glancing down at the swell of your belly, but he squeezes your shoulder and leans in to hug you gently.

Instantly knew where you were going with this. Probably the moment I started to brace myself and put my seatbelt on for this ride 🤣

Aw, poor Benny, who had probably wanted to go out with her since the wedding and then sadly realized Dean got there first 🥲

“I stopped drinking coffee for the baby. ”

Oooh, Alex, super important to know for you if you're ever going down the pregnant route: You're allowed a 12oz cup (up to 200 mg daily). Enjoy that coffee in the morning, girl 😏☕️

Two months later, the time has finally come. Your water breaks when you’re in the middle of teaching your second graders how to spell exaggerate—and no, Joey, it’s not e-g-g-zagerate.

Still love that her water broke in the middle of class lmao. This was honestly a big fear of mine whenever I went outside during that last stretch 😂

“Why the hell did he have to bring her,” you mutter to yourself, wiping sweat from your brow. Here you are, gritting your teeth through contraction after contraction in this damn hospital bed, and Dean is outside the room talking to Lisa.

My God, I hated it so much that Lisa thought it was a good idea to come and then pick a stupid fight, drawing Dean's entire attention away from such an important moment. His sole focus should be on reader and his son atm and not on this. I felt terrible for her here 🙈💔

It seems to you that all they do is argue, break up for a week or two, and then get back together again.

Dean not backing out of this relationship is one thing, but Lisa really should've ended it somewhere during reader's pregnancy or those first months after the birth. Yes, she liked him and wanted to try and make this work, but you gotta cut your losses at some point, girl, and walk away when your dignity's still intact. Even Mona broke up with Ross, and that was wild 🤣

Maybe Dean should've asked reader to move in with him and surprised Lisa with it. Maybe that would've finally done it. She was resilient and hopeful till the bitter end lol ❤️‍🩹

Again, he strokes the baby’s soft cheek. You look over at Dean with a small smile. “You’re going to be a good dad, you know,” you tell him. It earns his gaze. Although he’s trying to stay strong, you read the hidden insecurity there, the worry and fear. You rest a hand on his arm. “You are, Dean. You’re a good man, and you’ve really stepped up these past few months. This obviously isn’t how either of us thought our lives would go, but if this had to happen with someone, I’m glad it’s you.” Dean’s expression softens. He hesitates, but he lays a hand over yours and squeezes gently. “Thanks,” he says.

This was such a precious moment between them. Had tears in my eyes 😭😭

And then the goddamn cavalry arrives to break them apart! I hope for their second child they won't allow visitors till the next day lol 🙏

He saw how her “helpful” suggestion to have a get-together at their apartment to celebrate the baby’s birth was setting you on edge. Really, you just want to sleep for the next 24-hours and not have any more pictures of you taken.

Literally. How about you people just ask what momma wants, huh? I'm glad she had Dean there to support her, though 💕

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Also…sorry if I’m crossing some kind of boundary here. Looks like it’s a bit of a circus outside.”

Typical Benny 🥹 This was so incredibly sweet of him and she really needed that (even if it did cross boundaries a little. At least wait till she gets home from the hospital to shoot your shot, buddy lol). He really had it bad for her, and I think that made him blindsided in that regard 💔

You meet him with a wobbly smile. “Honestly? I’m afraid. I know I have a lot of people who want to support me, and I’m grateful, but…I just have this terrible feeling that we’re going to end up alone, him and me.”

That hit so deeply 😢 I cry during that scene with Rachel every time too 😭

Benny is a bit closed off though, the strong stoic type. He’s hard for you to get a read on, and sometimes you wonder if he’s just indulging you when you ramble on about your day or make silly jokes. Even now, sometimes you withhold the first thought that comes to your mind, hoping he doesn’t think you immature or…too much.

That really showcased that Benny truly wasn't the one for her, no matter how nice, kind, and considerate he was. It's sad, but it happens. Her heart always belonged to Dean from that first night on ❤️ In the end, it would've been unfair to both of them (even all four of them) if they all stayed together in those pairings.

And it's honestly not just on reader and Dean who went wrong by never admitting their feelings and talking it out like the grown-ups they aren't lol, but both Benny and Lisa are a bit selfish for staying with them as well. You can't tell me they didn't know or heavily suspect there were feelings there between them. Those two decided to butt into a young family, so they made that bed a little bit themselves, too 🤷‍♀️

Especially Benny – and hear me out, if Benny had been truly a good friend to Dean, he would've put his own feelings aside in the first place and talked some sense into him. But fair enough if he decided to go after her himself lol (I thought a lot about that specifically this week since we've talked about how Benny was a class act till the end, but honestly, this probably would've been even classier of him 🤝)

I don't know why I get so defensive of reader and Dean in this story, but I was rooting for them hard 😂🩵

He’s just got that manic kid energy that goes on for days. But Robbie’s also smart; like Dean, he likes taking things apart and putting them back together in new and ingenious ways.

It's like your describing my kid lol

And I love that both our HC is that Dean literally needs the threat of a proposal from another man to make a goddamn move 🤣

He’d always felt a little uncomfortable with one of his best friends dating you, but you’d seemed happy about it, so he didn’t discourage it. But he’d never been very supportive, either. At least, not about your relationship.

Yup, makes complete sense. And again, it's on both Lisa and Benny for looking the other way here and not noticing that 🤷‍♀️ They literally accepted that Dean would just fix things in reader's home all the time etc. and it was clear both were bothered by that. Denial all around with these four 😂

“Well you know what, it’s not! And it’s not just the damn bike either.” He swipes a hand over his face in annoyance, a telltale sign you’ve come to read well on the man. “Look, I’m missing too much shit, all right? Like, like the dinosaur thing! And the fact that I only get him on the weekends.” & It’s too much, knowing Benny’s slowly but surely carving out a father-figure role in Robbie’s life.

And this is the part that I thought most about. I sobbed then and I'm sobbing reading this again now. I was so incredibly heartbroken for Dean for missing out on all that shit. You just want him to have all the good things and enjoy being a dad to his heart's content, so this truly ripped me apart 😭😭😭

Honestly, he’s surprised she’s stuck around this long.

Same. Girl was committed 🤣

“Why?” she snaps. “You’re not his wife or his girlfriend. I should’ve been listed.”

But the mother of his son, which makes her family...

Lisa pissed me off during that scene, although I completely understand where she's coming from. Dean really broke her in a way. Still, she's known for five years what she's gotten herself into 😂

He decides to dig out his mom’s engagement ring from a locked box of his parents’ keepsakes, though he’s still waiting on the right time for it. He and Lisa start looking at houses though, for real this time. She hires a realtor and everything. He has to be okay with the fact that you’ll probably marry Benny. You’ll keep making him cookies and cakes, giving him your smile and your time and your body. And Robbie will probably think of Benny as more of a father than his own Weekend Dad.

I swear I wanted to murder you and Dean here, Alex, aka the part where I really thought you were going to break my goddamn heart 😂💜💜💜

I was livid with that man lmao

And then that whole conversation at their parent's house!!! Fucking finally they're adressing this. Istg they better go to couple's therapy after and learn to communicate properly. Those skills are lacking with these two idiots 😅🙈

“Dean,” you gasp.

I loved how this was the scene that absolutely reached a boiling point with everyone!!! The drama queen in me was like, "Yes!! Let's go!!!" 🤣🤣👏👏

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads.

The "for once" does it for me 💀 (And then Dean using past tense when saying he loved Lisa 🤯)

I both feel for Benny and Lisa and think both of them handled the break ups incredibly well – no doubt about it. But that proves to me a little that they always knew it could end this way and just chose not to see it (even Benny admitted that at the end). Ultimately, it's a little hard for me to feel toooo awfully sorry for them, ya know? The old "you've dug your grave" story 😅

“I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…” And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

Fucking finally! 🥳 It's been a wild ride to get here, my sweet lil green-eyed idiot 💚🎢

I sobbed again during their wedding when Robbie brought him the ring and how happy he was that his parents were together 🥹

Honestly, I said it over on Patreon, but here again too: This was such an amazing, phenomenal, and yes, dramatic ride, but it was fucking worth every 20k word of it (if you can't tell by this extensively long and insane comment lmao). And I can't help falling in love with you... 💜💜💜

IF I STAY - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Deep breaths Are you ready for a rollercoaster of emotions? 😘❤️

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “It’s Now or Never” by Elvis

Word Count: 13.1K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, pregnancy feels, hurt/comfort, fluff, time jumps and flashbacks, sexual tension, mutual pining, spice~, and an ending…

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 2: It’s Now or Never

At the doctor’s office, Dean goes in with you for the first trimester ultrasound. There you learn that you’re going to have a boy. Tears well up in your eyes and slip down your cheeks.

Dean wears a look of amazement as he sits on the edge of your bed. He takes up your hand and squeezes gently. He tries to be a strong support, even though he also tries to hide the fear that begins to churn in his gut.

For one of the first times in his life since Sam was born, he feels the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. In a good way. In a fucking scary way.

He looks at you and sees the wonder written across your face while you watch the tiny shape of your baby on the screen. His heartbeat thwaps fast and loud in the speakers.

Dean realizes something else then; the decision you're making is changing the course of your whole damn life…and it’s his fault.

With his weekly hookup rate, in the very back shelves of his mind he knew something like this could happen, even though he thought he'd been careful. (Apparently, condoms are fragile little shits.) But here, in this white wall-to-wall room that smells like hospital antiseptic, that thwap thwap thwap of a heartbeat reverberating in his ears, the reality of this is crashing hard on his shoulders and rattling down to the base of his spine.

Despite his earlier happiness, those thoughts stay with him when you two eventually get back into his car. You have the pictures of the sonogram in your hands. You smile down at them before you put them back in your purse for safekeeping.

However, you notice Dean’s sudden melancholy as he stares out at the road. He’s started the car, but he hasn’t moved to pull out of the parking lot yet.

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you, incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours and achingly familiar. But ultimately, it’s chaste. He pulls away and settles back in his seat.

When you blink your eyes back open, your expression is slack in shock.

“I’m sorry,” he says, seeming sheepish, and guilty. “I meant to say thank you. Just didn’t know any other way to say it.”

After a moment, you smile at him. It’s warm and almost shy.

Dean clears his throat, trying to ignore the way his face is heating up. He doesn’t say anything more. He just takes the wheel and shifts gears, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

You don’t know what possesses you to bake cookies. Dozens and dozens of them, all the chocolate chip cookie recipes you can find. You’re in search of the perfect one. This will be the recipe your son will grow up on, and every time he eats them, he’ll remember how much you loved him.

And then, he’ll be ruined for any other chocolate chip cookies that try to grab his taste buds. He’ll say, Blech. Chips Ahoy? These aren’t as good as Mom makes!

…Or something like that.

Yes, these cookies have to be perfect. You’ll even write the ingredients down on a notecard and hide it away, and it’ll become your family secret recipe.

Once you feel like your cookie game is strong enough, you decide to test these babies out. You bring two dozen painstakingly baked confections to Firehouse 83, where Dean works. The man is a bottomless pit, to be sure, but you also want other people’s unbiased opinions. For science.

You park your car on the side of the road, making sure you’re not blocking the driveway where two huge fire trucks are parked. You head inside the firehouse with your big container under your arm and your purse on the other. Now at seven months into your pregnancy, you’ve gotten to the embarrassing “waddle” stage.

You’re still determined to be active though! You plan to keep working until you have the baby. Your parents live a few hours away, but you’re grateful that they want to help out as much as possible.

Even though they weren’t happy to hear about how you got pregnant, by now they've met Dean and begrudgingly admitted to liking him. He's really stepped up to the responsibility of a future father, insisting on baby-proofing your apartment, helping you shop for the essentials, and going with you to as many doctor’s appointments as he can. He’s even agreed to giving you child support payments, even though you hadn’t wanted to ask for it.

You look for him now as you enter the firehouse, trying to push the heavy glass door open with one hand.

“Here, I got you,” says a familiar baritone voice.

You’re pleasantly surprised at the man who helps you inside.

“Benny! It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah, been…a while,” he chuckles, glancing down at the swell of your belly, but he squeezes your shoulder and leans in to hug you gently.

“Dean filled you in?” you ask. You hope so. Having to explain the story to one of his own friends would be embarrassing, especially since this is the man you walked in Sam’s wedding with. It reminds you of that day, and the way you told Dean that news in a glorified closet, with shaking hands and the wrong kind of butterflies.

Thankfully, Benny nods. “That he did…but come on, I’ll show you around. And I see you’ve brought somethin’ special for us?”

He gestures at the container you're holding and offers to take it off your hands. You give it to him, grateful for the help.

“Yeah, and I want you guys to give me your honest opinion.”

Benny tosses you a wink and a smile. “That I can do.”

Your cheeks begin to warm in a blush, but the way he helps you to a comfy couch in the common room earns your smile. There are still good men left in this world, and you’re glad to know that Dean works so well with one.

“You want some coffee, or water? Think we might have some lemonade,” Benny says.

“Water would be great, thank you,” you reply, as you rub your belly. The little man has decided to kick at your liver today. “I stopped drinking coffee for the baby. ”

It's your biggest challenge, to be honest. Try wrangling a group of fifteen to twenty six-year-olds while running on green tea, the fumes of sleep deprivation, reduced bladder control, and as much vim as you can muster.

“Ah, right,” Benny nods. “My sister has two kids. She cut out coffee, pain meds, some dairy stuff. But she claimed cheesecake was all right, ‘cause it’s got cake in the name.”

You giggle. “I see no flaw in her logic.”

Down the hall of the firehouse, Dean is just coming back in from going through a set of drills. He’s still the Candidate—the freshest blood in the house—so they’ve been putting him through his paces for the past several months. He’s eager to learn and to prove himself.

His ears perk up in confusion though. Did he just hear your voice?

Why does it smell like a bakery in here?

When he rounds the corner, he sees you in the common room, smiling and giggling like a teenager at something Benny said to you while he eats a soft baked cookie right out of a Tupperware container. You must’ve brought it for the firehouse.

This cozy little scene kind of annoys Dean somehow, though he doesn’t know why. He does know that it shouldn’t.

“Hey, look who’s here,” Dean says, forcing himself to smile. It becomes easier when you look his way, your eyes brightening at his arrival.

“There you are! Come ‘ere and try these,” you say, pointing at the box Benny holds. “Tell me if our son’s going to have the best PTA mom ever.”

Dean can’t help but grin after trying a big bite of one of your cookies.

“Oh, mah Gah,” he says, holding a hand under his mouth so nothing comes crumbling out.

“Good?” you ask.

“Good friggin’ cookie,” he confirms, after he swallows. “You’re gonna have the other parents frothing at the mouth. Who’s gonna be able to compete with this?”

Benny nods in agreement. When Dean squeezes your shoulder, your sweet, happy smile makes him smile too.

She’s going to be a good mom, he thinks. He can only hope against hope that he can be the man his son needs.

Two months later, the time has finally come. Your water breaks when you’re in the middle of teaching your second graders how to spell exaggerate—and no, Joey, it’s not e-g-g-zagerate.

However, the embarrassment of him pointing out the fluid beginning to stain your slacks is swiftly cut off by your shock. Your first call is to the principal, to have her send someone to cover your class. Your next call is to Dean, telling him to meet you at the hospital.

You know you have no real reason to be upset. She’s been trying her best to be your friend in recent months. Hell, she helped Eileen and your mom plan your baby shower. She even brought you flowers when she got to the hospital, but you notice how less than five minutes after she got here, she and Dean became embroiled in yet another argument. It seems to you that all they do is argue, break up for a week or two, and then get back together again.

The sex must be explosive, like the fireworks at goddamn Disney World.

But Dean eventually does come back into the room alone. His support grounds you over the next few hours. He lets you basically break his hand, all while he gives you encouragement (and stands by your shoulder, so he doesn’t see anything you’d rather him not see).

And then, your son is born. Every muscle, every cell in your body is exhausted, but the pain meds have kicked in, and you’re in that blissed out state between abject reality and being entirely entranced by the bundle in your arms. His perfect face is just there, sleeping for the moment after the nurses taught you how to breastfeed.

Dean returns to sit in the chair beside you. He gives you some water and a piece of a protein bar. You’re not that hungry, but he pointed out that you haven’t eaten since before your water broke.

“Sam and Eileen are on their way up,” he says.

You nod in reply. You’re too into your son right now to think of anything else.

Dean shakes his head in wonder as he reaches out with a tentative hand, brushing his fingers over the baby’s downy head. He was born with a little tuft of brown hair.

“Okay, down to business,” Dean says, shooting you a playful look. “I vote for Zeppelin.”

You groan. “Dean, no. Veto. I’m not naming my son after a rock band.”

“Aw, come on. It’s a badass name!”

“What about Aiden?” you suggest.

“Veto,” he snorts. You two agreed to getting five “vetos” each, but this discussion has been more like a battle of wills over the last several months.

“Okay, what about Daniel? That’s strong, classic,” you pose.

Dean considers it with a tilt of his head. “All right, that one’s a maybe.”

Again, he strokes the baby’s soft cheek. You look over at Dean with a small smile.

“You’re going to be a good dad, you know,” you tell him. It earns his gaze. Although he’s trying to stay strong, you read the hidden insecurity there, the worry and fear. You rest a hand on his arm. “You are, Dean. You’re a good man, and you’ve really stepped up these past few months. This obviously isn’t how either of us thought our lives would go, but if this had to happen with someone, I’m glad it’s you.”

Dean’s expression softens. He hesitates, but he lays a hand over yours and squeezes gently.

“Thanks,” he says.

Your eyes meet, and it’s a moment charged with something you can’t even name. It’s not the first time you’ve felt this feeling with him. It both fills your heart with warmth, and makes you ache.

Then the door opens. It’s Lisa, Sam, and Eileen. Dean’s hand slips away from yours as they all pour in to congratulate you and Dean, and of course, meet the baby. There’s a lot of soft cooing and playful shushing.

In that small chaos, your parents call to tell you that they’re finally almost here. It really sucked not having your mom with you, but your parents live far enough away that they were going to take a train and stay with you for at least a week. Their train unfortunately got delayed due to mechanical failure.

It's okay though. Getting through the past several hours has made you realize that you’re stronger and more capable than you think, and even though part of you is still scared to death, you don’t need a husband to be a good mom. You’re going to give this your all, no matter who’s beside you…

And that's no more apparent than when Dean soon has to step out again, leading Lisa out of the room. He saw how her “helpful” suggestion to have a get-together at their apartment to celebrate the baby’s birth was setting you on edge. Really, you just want to sleep for the next 24-hours and not have any more pictures of you taken.

It gets loud enough outside your hospital room that Sam and Eileen feel they have to intervene. Lisa is Eileen’s best friend, and she’s the best equipped to try and deescalate the argument from that end, while Sam deals with Dean. It’s messy, it’s irritating, and it means that even today, you can’t just have a little bit of peace.

You sigh and cradle your still nameless baby close to your chest. He’s all that matters. Already, your heart is so damn full just taking him in.

“What’s your name, my little love?” you whisper. “What am I going to write on your certificate, besides Winchester?”

“How about Benjamin,” comes a Louisiana drawl.

You perk up and smile in surprise. “Benny, hey.”

He greets you with a slightly hesitant kiss on the cheek. He’s brought the baby an adorable teddy bear, and you a beautiful bouquet of white and blue roses, along with a box of chocolates.

“It’s the assorted kind, but they’ve got plenty of the caramel ones you like,” he says, then gazes down at the baby. “Aw, he’s a little charmer. Already got more of you than Dean, that’s for sure.”

You laugh lightly at his teasing. “I don’t know about that.” You hope your son inherits Dean’s strong jaw, and his green eyes.

Benny scratches the back of his head. “Also…sorry if I’m crossing some kind of boundary here. Looks like it’s a bit of a circus outside.”

You shake your head and smile through burgeoning tears. You set the chocolates on the end table where he’s placed the flowers and the teddy bear.

“No, it’s very sweet. Thank you,” you say. You glance out the window of your room to the hallway, where the arguing between Dean, Lisa, Sam, and Eileen seems to finally be calming down. You’re so damn tired, you don’t give a crap about whatever they’re hashing out now.

You look down at your son, and despite your strong thoughts earlier, insecurity begins to creep back into your mind like inky claws.

“How are you holding up?” Benny asks. His face is kind and concerned when he notes the change in you.

You look down at your son, and you have to wipe away a tear from your eye before it falls on his face.

A large, warm hand rests over yours. Your gaze raises slowly, and Benny smiles at you. He’s serious though.

“Don’t you worry about that,” he says. “You’re not gonna be alone.”

FIVE YEARS LATER...

For all that changes, there are some things that stay the same.

Dean and Lisa are still the world’s most “off again, on again” couple you’ve ever met. Sam and Eileen are still going strong as the hardworking, driven career couple. Your son is growing more and more every day and just started kindergarten this year.

(You ultimately caved on Dean’s idea to name him Robert, as in Robert Plant, lead singer of Led Zeppelin.)

Oh, yeah, and the “you and Benny” thing? That’s been going well for two years now.

What can you say? The man is persistent, but respectfully so. He’s considerate, reliable, and always calls you when work at the firehouse has him running late.

You haven’t yet invited him to move in with you. That part you’re still hesitant on, mostly because of your son, but Benny helps you drop off Robbie at school and makes breakfast for you all whenever he stays over your apartment. Benny takes an interest in your son’s life and keeps up with all his energy, taking him to the park to run himself ragged before dinner, and helping you tuck him in at night.

But Benny shows his caring in all those little things he does for you. They add up into the big things, and he makes you feel supported. He makes you feel safe.

He even helps you plan your son’s fifth birthday. Robbie wanted to go all out on a dinosaur theme; he’s been hooked on Jurassic Park ever since Benny “accidentally” let him watch it with him on one of your rare nights out with your friends.

So you set up a little party at the park by your apartment. You managed to reserve the biggest gazebo, where there are three picnic tables covered with dinosaur plates, and tablecloths, streamers in different shades of green. You even bought a big dinosaur cake—also in a radioactive green color that you hadn’t been sure about, but your son talked you into. Robbie thinks it’s awesome.

He’s running around on the playground with a few of his friends from school. Their parents (along with Sam, Eileen, and Lisa) are talking amongst themselves at one of the picnic tables while you try to figure out how to get the Bluetooth speaker to connect with your phone.

“Haha! Got it. If you're so smart, Alexa, why don't you connect on the first try?” You fist-pump the air triumphantly, just as Benny comes to your side. He wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your cheek, making you smile.

“How’s it going out there?” you ask, nodding at the kids. Plus Dean, who’s gamely been the one to keep them entertained with different games. Right now, it’s a thrilling game of Cowboys and Outlaws, where Robbie and his friends are the cowboys, and Dean is the outlaw. He’s been hiding under the slide, behind trees and other playground fixtures, while the kids have little squirt guns to pelt him with water every time they find him.

It's pretty damn cute, and you’ve been taking pictures. You smile at the sight of Dean leaping out at Robbie and the kids, catching them off guard.

“You’ll never take me alive, Sheriff!” Dean declares.

“Oh, it’s goin’,” Benny remarks with an amused shake of his head. “Still hard to believe that guy’s about to make it to Lieutenant.”

“Hahaaa, gotcha!!” Dean cackles. He’s grabbed up Robbie and yanked him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Robbie screeches with laughter while his dad runs around the playground, being chased by a bunch of five-year-olds with squirt guns.

Your smile threatens to make your cheeks hurt. You know your life is…unconventional, to say the least, but Dean is a good father to your son. He’s also been working hard at his job. He just took the Lieutenant’s test, and even though Benny already occupies that position at Firehouse 83, a spot at another firehouse might open up for Dean to transfer.

“Part of me doesn’t want to,” Dean admitted to you last week, while he was working on fixing your stubborn, leaky sink. “All the guys there, they’re like family, you know?” “I understand,” you nodded. “You have to do what feels best for you, whether that’s staying where you feel comfortable, or moving up in your career somewhere else. If it doesn’t feel right, don’t do it.” He took in your advice with a slow nod. “Yeah, thanks. Guess I have to time to think about it. Lisa had other ideas.” “Of course,” you said with a smile, but it soon dropped. “Why, what did she say?” “Do what I can to move up,” he sighed. “She’s got a point. That title comes with a pay bump, one I could really use right now.” “I get that. Totally valid,” you said. “But I just think it’s important for you to be happy with it too. Especially with what you do, helping people, saving people…I’d imagine being in the right mindset for all that is important, right? Who you work with can be just as important as the money stuff.” Dean considered you with a smile. “Yeah, exactly.”

As you think about it now, you have to admit that he’s grown up a lot.

Dean has to lean against a tree to catch his breath. Am I already getting too old for this crap?

Feels kind of young to have a stitch in his side after a few rounds with these kids, but even he has his limits. Lisa comes to bring him a bottle of ice-cold water, which he appreciates. He’s tempted to dump it over his head like he does after successfully neutralizing a fire. It gets literally hot as hell under that helmet and mask and all his gear underneath.

“Need an iron lung?” Lisa teases.

“Toss in a new pair of knees, thanks,” he wheezes. He downs half the water bottle in one go, but he smiles at seeing his son keep running around with his friends. He’s just got that manic kid energy that goes on for days. But Robbie’s also smart; like Dean, he likes taking things apart and putting them back together in new and ingenious ways.

Dean hopes his son likes the new model car set that’s waiting for him on the picnic table full of presents. In fact, he’s still surprised that you didn’t go with the race car theme he suggested for the party, but apparently, Robbie’s more into dinosaurs now. Dean wishes he knew that before he bought the model car set.

He looks over and catches sight of you and Benny wrapped up in each other. He has his arm around your waist while you fiddle with something, but the way you lean over and whisper near his ear elicits a smile on Benny’s face.

Dean’s good mood diminishes.

“Well, don’t they seem cozy,” he mutters.

Lisa arches a manicured brow. “Yeah, pretty sure he’s getting ready to propose.”

That earns Dean’s attention, his head swiveling back to her in surprise.

“Really?” he asks. “Who told you that?”

“His sister,” she replies. “Meg’s in my intermediate class, remember?”

Dean nods, sipping at his water, even though he’s a bit absent in the eyes. Lisa watches him shrewdly.

“Why do you seem upset about it?” she asks. “Benny’s your friend.”

“I know,” Dean says. He doesn’t need that reminder, or the guilty twinge. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong.

“And she seems happy,” Lisa points out. “Don’t you want the mother of your kid to be with a good man who treats her right?”

He nods, trying to hide his growing annoyance. “‘Course I do. I just…I don’t know. I still don’t see them together, I guess.”

“Well, they’ve been together for like, two years.”

Again, Dean nods his acknowledgement. It’s hard for him to believe that so much time has passed already. He honestly didn’t think you and Benny would be together this long. He’d always felt a little uncomfortable with one of his best friends dating you, but you’d seemed happy about it, so he didn’t discourage it. But he’d never been very supportive, either. At least, not about your relationship.

Lisa sighs and grabs his arm, pulling him aside before he can rejoin the party.

“Listen, we need to talk about something,” she says.

Dean restrains a tired groan. “Can this wait ‘til later?”

“I think we should do this now,” she says. A hallmark Lisa-ism. She’s opinionated and strong-willed, something Dean’s always respected about her. Sometimes though, the timing is damn irritating. He doesn’t want to get into another argument with his girlfriend in public, especially not at his son’s birthday party.

“Speaking of commitment,” she says with a sigh. “I think it’s fair to say that we’ve been on a five-year rollercoaster, you and I. You know why that is?”

“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” Dean says, crossing his arms.

“It’s because you’re spread too thin,” she says. “Between the firehouse, construction jobs on the side…not to mention other things.”

“What? What’re you talking about?”

Lisa’s lips purse, before she pointedly gestures over at you with her eyes. “Well, for example. You’re still going to her place after your next shift to fix her fridge, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, should be pretty simple. I’ve just gotta swing by the hardware store and grab this specialty tool I ordered—”

“Dean,” Lisa deadpans. “That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

She heaves a deep breath, running her fingers through her long brown hair.

“I get that navigating this situation hasn’t been easy for you,” she says. “It hasn’t exactly been easy for me either, but look.”

Lisa takes his hands in hers, uncrossing his arms. “I want to get married someday. I want kids too. And I want that kind of life with you…I’m just not sure you want it with me.”

Dean expels a heavy sigh. “Lis—”

“Don’t answer me right now,” she says, but she levels him with a serious look. “You need to decide though, Dean. Five years is long enough. You should know by now if you want to be with me.”

After letting go of his hands, she softens the edges of her words with a gentle kiss on his cheek. Then she turns to join the group now gathered around the picnic table where the food is, all the kids cheering for pizza and cake.

After the party, Sam, Eileen, Lisa, and Benny pack up their cars and yours with the leftover food, party supplies, and presents. Dean helps you clean up the trash, all while keeping an eye on Robbie getting out the last of his sugar-high on the playground swing.

You shake your head tiredly, if with a fond smile. “That kid’s gonna be up all night hype on that radioactive cake.”

Dean chuckles. “You want me to take him tonight?”

“It’s okay. I think he’s going to want to play with his toys,” you reply.

“Well, he could just as easily do that at my place,” he reasons.

You consider it, but you shake your head. “Yeah, but we got him the bike. He’s probably gonna want to try it out for a few minutes before we get him cleaned up.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean you and Benny,” Dean says, his tone becoming surly. “And about that. Don’t you think a bike is something you should run by me? That’s typically a ‘dad’ kind of gift.”

You pause what you’re doing at the sound of his tone. Your brows knit together.

“Sorry, but I feel like a bike isn’t exclusively a dad thing,” you say.

“My dad got me my first bike,” Dean replies. “Spent a whole three days teaching me how to ride.”

You take a minute to think about it. You understand where Dean’s coming from, so you nod.

“Okay, I get it. You want to be there to help teach Robbie? I’m sure he’d love that.”

Dean tosses a wadded-up ball of frosting-covered napkins and stops, letting his hands fall to his sides in frustration. He draws closer and helps you untie the balloons from the picnic table.

“Yeah, I do, but that’s not the point,” he says. “Why can’t I take him home tonight?”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Well, like I said. The bike—”

“That I should’ve gotten for him,” he snaps. “Which, let me guess, Benny picked out. Right?”

You frown at him in earnest now. “Dean, why are you getting so upset about it? It’s just a bike.”

You turn toward him, trying to put a cap on your own annoyance. This isn’t the first time you two have had a conversation like this.

“We’ve gone over this before, Dean. Your schedule at the firehouse is just too unpredictable,” you say. “Robbie needs as much stability as possible between us. But…okay, if you want to take him tonight, that’s fine. We can bring the bike over to your place and show it to him there.”

You’re trying to be as reasonable as possible, and Dean knows that. Still, anger prickles just under his skin, and he can’t help but push his luck.

“You still should’ve asked be before you got the bike in the first place,” he argues.

Your brows raise high. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, it’s not like we bought him a Honda Civic. Honestly, Dean, why are you picking a fight with me right now?” you ask. “Did you and Lisa get into it again or something?”

Dean looks away and crosses his arms, giving you all the confirmation you need.

“Yeah, that’s right,” you nod. “I saw you two over there on the playground, looked pretty heated. But do me a favor. Don’t come at me with that energy, because I’m too damn tired of it!”

When you walk away from him, Dean can’t help but stare after you. He knows he fucked that up, just as he knows that you don’t deserve him snapping at you. He’s just too irritated to admit it.

For the entire week that follows, Dean finds himself distracted. He sticks to his word and helps Benny teach his son how to ride a bike in between their shifts at the firehouse, but Dean comes home each night feeling even more frustrated and drained than before. It’s too much, knowing Benny’s slowly but surely carving out a father-figure role in Robbie’s life.

These thoughts follow Dean to work, even while he climbs up the firetruck ladder in the rain. It’s parallel to a busted utility pole that still sparks with electricity, even in this torrential downpour. His task is to get up to the top and grab a large branch that’s tangled in the lines.

Rung after rung, he climbs. His safety mask protects his eyes from the rain, but he wishes they had some mini windshield wipers to keep his vision clear of the droplets pelting him in the face.

He also can’t help thinking of you. If Lisa’s right, then Benny’s about to become a more permanent fixture in Robbie’s life, and yours.

Okay fine. It’s not like Dean expected you to be single forever, but did you really have to get with one of his best friends? Does it really have to be Benny, who seems so natural with Robbie, and more patient than Dean, and more of a support to you and Robbie than Dean can ever be?

And then there’s Lisa’s little ultimatum. He understands why she’s frustrated with him. Honestly, he’s surprised she’s stuck around this long. He knows she’s not going to wait too much longer for him to get his act together. For him to decide, as she put it.

It’s not that he’s not sure about her, it’s just that…

Just that what? he wonders.

He manages to grab the wily tree branch and maneuver it out of the power lines.

He just doesn’t realize that his glove doesn’t have quite enough friction on the metal side panel of the ladder. Not only does his hand slip, but he’s forced to let go of the branch while he loses his balance. The branch falls to the sidewalk, far, far down below.

“Dean!” Benny shouts in alarm.

Luckily, the truck itself breaks Dean's fall.

Holding Robbie’s hand tightly in yours is the only thing keeping you steady as you lead him through the hospital. After the receptionist had checked you both in and gave you the room number, you hastened down the hall and up to the right floor. 2005.

Robbie breaks into tears when he finally gets to see his dad, laid up though he is in his hospital bed. Your throat tightens at the sight of Dean hooked up to all those monitors. He has his arm wrapped up and fitted into a sling. He has a thick piece of gauze taped to the side of his face, covering a wide, angry abrasion, but he seems to be resting easy on his back. The bed is at an incline, with most of the overhead lights turned off.

Robbie rushes to the bed before you can stop him. He hesitantly touches Dean’s non-injured right hand. “Daddy?”

“Robbie, wait,” you say, keeping your voice quiet. You quickly go over to the bedside and grab ahold of Robbie’s shoulders, but Dean takes a deep breath. His eyelids crack open.

“Hey, buddy,” he says, attempting a smile. His voice is rough and weak, but at least he’s awake.

Robbie’s lower lip wobbles as tears fill his eyes again.

“Come ‘ere,” Dean says, a little stronger. When he reaches out to his son, the kid hops up onto the bed and buries his face into his father’s chest. Dean holds him as securely as he can, soothing his hand over the boy’s hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“It’s okay, little man. ‘M okay,” he promises. Robbie nods, but he still continues to cry.

You can’t help but do the same. Tears slip down your cheeks without your consent. Dean beckons you over too, gesturing with his chin and a slight smile. You’re more tentative in the way you sit down at the edge of his bed. You run your fingers through Robbie’s light brown hair to help reassure him. Then, you meet Dean’s gaze and lay a hand on his good shoulder. You don’t know whether you’re steadying him, or yourself.

“How do you feel?” you ask. “The hospital called me. Benny told me what happened.”

The thought reminds you to text your boyfriend. You hadn’t had a chance to tell him you made it here yet. He must be downstairs grabbing a bite to eat, because he’s the one who rode with Dean in the ambulance and has been with him for a while.

“The hospital called you?” Dean notes in slight confusion.

“Eileen told me that Sam is in court right now, so I must’ve been next on the list,” you say. He also must have taken Lisa off his emergency list the last time they broke up for almost a month. He probably forgot to update it again.

You reach out a hand to almost touch the bandage by his temple. Instead, you hesitantly hold the side of his face to see the area better. Dean closes his eyes for a moment. You can see he’s in pain. Your hand lingers on his cheek, but you know, deep down, that it shouldn’t.

Dean doesn’t stop you though. He lets out a deep breath, savoring how nice the gentle touch feels when the rest of his body feels battered to hell.

“Fell off the ladder. Was a stupid rookie move,” he explains, but when he sees that look on your face, he tries to inject a little more joking into a smile. “S’ not so bad.”

“You could’ve broken your head as well as your arm,” you say, more sharply than you mean to.

Robbie whimpers and clings tighter to Dean. You cover your mouth, as if you can trap the words back inside. You don’t want to upset your son more than he already is, so you fall silent. Another tear works its way down your cheek, but you brush it away. Dean shakes his head.

“Hey, I’m okay,” he reassures you too. He manages to smile as he pats Robbie’s back. “Right, buddy?”

The boy’s head perks up. His eyes are still shiny, but he smiles too. He’s not one to speak when he’s upset though, so he just curls up against Dean’s chest and hangs onto him. Dean rests his good arm snugly around him.

You smile and stroke Robbie’s back. Though your hand lowers, resting on Dean’s hand. You take in a deep breath to calm yourself down. Dean’s fingers curl around yours, prompting you to glance up into his eyes. The way he’s watching you is soft, grateful.

Until the door creaks open. Benny steps in with a subtle clearing of his throat. You jolt internally, and you slip your hand away from Dean’s. You offer your boyfriend a wan smile.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey, baby.” He comes over and greets you with a kiss to the side of your head. He smiles at your son gently. “The gang’s all here.”

“Oh! Let me call Sam, and Lisa too. They still don’t know what’s going on,” you say. You get up from the bed to grab your phone out of your purse. Dean nods in agreement and thanks you, while Robbie plays with his dad's long fingers.

“How you holdin’ up, brother?” Benny asks, after you step out of the room. He settles into the chair near the foot of the bed.

“Ah, you know me. I’m like a cat. Always stick the landing,” Dean says, smiling lazily. The morphine is starting to kick in again.

Benny smirks. “Maybe you do got nine lives, the amount of close calls you like gettin’ yourself into.”

Dean’s good humor fades. He considers his son in his arms, and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, well, no more,” he says. He got a taste of what it would be like to leave his boy behind, and he’s not fucking doing it. He’s not leaving you to raise Robbie by yourself. The mere idea tears a new hole in his heart.

His eyes sting just enough that he has to blink a bit harder, swallowing past a thick well of emotion in his throat. He presses another kiss to the top of Robbie’s head. Then, Dean meets Benny’s gaze.

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it.

Benny nods.

“You got it, brother.”

When Lisa steps off the hospital elevator on the second floor, you happen to be coming out of the bathroom to fix your racoon eyes. You’ve been crying way too much. You attempt to greet Lisa with something reassuring, but she cuts you off.

“What happened, and why didn’t the hospital call me directly?” she asks.

Her tone is cutting, and it takes you aback.

“Well, Sam and I were listed as his emergency contacts—”

“Why?” she snaps. “You’re not his wife or his girlfriend. I should’ve been listed.”

Jesus Christ. At this point, you can’t help it. You’re too tired and emotionally drained to lasso in your temper with this woman.

“Maybe if you and Dean stayed together longer than five minutes at a time, he’d put you back on the short list,” you sling back. “But the truth is, you’ve never just…been there for Dean. Not without demanding something from him.”

Lisa scoffs incredulously. “Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you. You’re the reason he can’t commit to anything. You think your little world is the only one that matters, and you call Dean for any little thing! What, don’t you have a boyfriend to help fix your goddamn sink?”

You open your mouth to retort, but you pause as her words seep into your mind. She might actually have a small point about that one. You realize then just how often you’ve been asking Dean for his help, not just with your apartment, but with your car, and other logistical things that usually have to with Robbie. Dean’s just such a good handyman, and you thought he genuinely liked being able to help…even though Benny did mention once or twice that he’d be just as happy to help you.

“Lisa, this is a lot more than a leaky sink. I just wanted to get here with Robbie and make sure Dean was okay,” you try to explain.

“Good. I’m glad his son was the first person Dean got to see when he woke up,” Lisa says. “But I should’ve been the second.”

She brushes past you before you can even think of what to say. You’re in a state of shock, feeling guilty, incensed, and on the verge of tears all at once.

A familiar voice calls your name, and you turn to Benny just as those tears begin to fall. He gathers you up into his arms and holds you there in the middle of the hallway.

“She shouldn’t talk to you like that, no matter how high tensions are today. I’ll talk to Dean,” Benny says. You shake your head and bury your face in his chest, clenching your fingers in his red flannel shirt.

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, despite the sob that shudders through you. You’ve lost the will to fight.

Benny shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It ain’t okay, baby.”

“Please, don’t bother Dean with this. Especially not right now,” you say. You take a moment to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself. “I’m gonna go get Robbie so Dean can rest.”

You can’t shake the feeling that Lisa is right. You do rely on Dean too much. You just don’t want to think about why that is.

Dean makes a full recovery after a few months. He never does hear about what happened in that hallway, but he knows that things need to change.

He’s making a firm decision, and he thinks it’s the right one. He wants to be there for his son, but he doesn’t want to keep “spreading himself too thin.” He has to figure out how to set some roots, and some boundaries with you while he’s at it. He’ll just have to come to terms with the idea that he won’t get to be there for everything.

He has to be okay with the fact that you’ll probably marry Benny. You’ll keep making him cookies and cakes, giving him your smile and your time and your body. And Robbie will probably think of Benny as more of a father than his own Weekend Dad.

Meanwhile, you’ve spent the past few months keeping yourself in check as well. You’ve stopped calling Dean for help whenever something breaks down in your old-ass apartment. You try to keep your conversations less about life and troubles and whatever funny thing your students did that day in class, and more focused on Robbie–strictly about his schedule and his needs.

It’s kind of painful, if you’re honest with yourself. Sam will always be one of your closest friends from college, but in the past five years, Dean has truly become your best friend. Because you’ve told him things. The things that come from sharing a child with someone, like Sunday dinners with your parents, flipping through old yearbooks and childhood pictures—and the details of day-to-day schedules and little stupid things that happen in moments between moments.

Dean also knows the deep cuts. Like being pregnant and scared and breaking down crying on the side of the road. Like sharing the deepest well of your insecurities with someone who knows your body intimately, even if just for one amazing night...a night you’ve never quite been able to put out of your mind.

However, you know that things can’t stay the same. From now on, he just needs to be your son’s father. Nothing more, nothing less.

So today, on a crisp April 24th, you’re getting ready for a highly anticipated evening with your boyfriend. Robbie is sleeping over your parents’ house, and Benny has been planning something special for your third-year anniversary.

You slip into your new dress, a deep emerald green, with a pair of black heels you’ve rarely worn since before you got pregnant. Come to think of it, you were wearing these the night of Sam and Eileen’s bachelor-bachelorette party. The night you…well, the night Robbie was conceived.

You shake your head to rid yourself of those thoughts. You even consider changing.

You’re being silly, you shake your head. They’re just shoes.

And yet. Thinking of that time so long ago, it reminds you of a recent Sunday dinner at your parents’ house.

Two Months Ago...

Your parents live modestly, but comfortably in rural Kansas. Their ranch-style home boasts a creek in the backyard, where your dad is teaching your son how to catch minnows. Your mom is inside working on an apple pie, knowing it’s both Dean’s and Robbie’s favorite.

You and Dean have kept close to the house under the shade, sitting on a bench made more comfortable by a pair of old polyester cushions with red, faded flowers.

“How much longer do you have to wear that?” you ask Dean. He glances down at his cast-covered left arm.

“Doc says it’s about ready to come off,” he says.

You nod, allowing yourself a certain smile. “How bad are you itching to grab my mom’s garden shears and cut it off right here?”

“Woman, don’t tempt me,” he says, his lips twitching at a grin. “I’ve been eying those overgrown scissors for the past half hour.”

You laugh and take another sip of your glass. Yours holds sweet tea, while Dean’s has some of your dad’s favorite whiskey. You both raise your heads when Robbie yells across the backyard.

“I caught a minnow!”

“Good job, buddy,” Dean grins. “See if you can catch a marlin!”

“A marlin?” Robbie questions.

“Yeah, like that orange guy in Finding Nemo,” Dean calls back.

Your dad gives Dean the same wry look you do, though yours is tinged with more amusement.

“Dean, that’s a clown fish,” you say. “He’s not gonna find that in the creek.”

“Aw, shit,” he tries to quiet his laugh. “Ah well, should keep him occupied for another twenty minutes.”

You bite your lip to stifle your laughter as well. Though something else occurs to you the longer you watch your son play and explore in the creek. Your dad has the patience of a saint as he puts yet another bait worm on the hook for the kid.

“He’s starting to ask questions, you know,” you tell Dean, in a quieter voice. “‘Why aren’t you and Daddy married? Why can’t we all live together?’”

Dean's brows raise. His good humor dims when he looks over at you.

“What do you tell him?” he asks.

You take in a deep breath, considering your words now as carefully as you did with your son.

“That we care about each other a lot, as friends,” you say, meeting Dean’s eyes. “And we love Robbie very much. Nothing’s going to change that, even if you and I aren’t together like a normal mom and dad.”

Saying it like that makes your heart twinge, for more than one reason. The way Dean’s mouth twitches into a rueful smile just makes it worse, but you try your best to ignore it.

“I never thought about having to explain it to him,” he says, rubbing a hand over his mouth.

It’s that anxious tell of his again. You notice every time he does it.

“I have,” you admit. “I just didn’t know for sure what I was going to say until it was coming out of my mouth.”

Dean smirks a little. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

You roll your eyes and sip your drink, crossing your arms as well. Dean considers you then, looking at you in a way that makes you raise a brow in question.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing, it’s just…” He sits back against the bench and rubs his hands down his jean-clad thighs. “For the record, I did try to ask you out once.”

“What?” you scoff incredulously. “No, you’ve been with Lisa since the beginning.”

“Before Lisa,” Dean says.

He isn’t joking. He isn’t teasing. He’s serious as he stares back at you with those green eyes of his. Your brows furrow as you wrack your brain. Did he drunkenly leave you a voicemail on one of those “off again” episodes between him and Lisa? No. You know you’d remember something like that.

“It was a few weeks after the bachelor party,” Dean says. “I called you up, remember?”

Your eyes widen. Finally, that jogs your memory.

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.” And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

You have to laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Dean, you did not ask me out,” you say. “You wanted to hook up. There’s a distinct difference.”

Dean frowns at you. “No, I was. I invited you over—”

“For essentially some Netflix and chill,” you retort.

“Hey, I offered to make you dinner,” he argues. “I didn’t say anything about hooking up.”

You pause at that. His earnest denial makes you actually think back to what you remember about that conversation on the phone.

You cover your lips with your fingers as you begin to realize…

“That was you asking me out?” you ask incredulously.

Dean’s brows furrow and he throws his hands up. “What? Who doesn’t like a little movie night?”

“Dean,” you huff another laugh. “You could’ve made it sound more like a date.”

“Well, ‘scuse me. Sorry I couldn’t afford the Ritz at the time,” he grumbles.

You sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

The more you think about it, the more you just shake your head at yourself. Why did you have to overthink it, like you do everything?

“Wow,” you say, softer and more contrite. “I honestly never thought…”

“Yeah,” he says. He shifts his gaze out ahead.

You glance over at him, now more unsure of yourself. He wouldn’t have any regrets, you think. He has Lisa. As much as they go at it, they always inevitably get back together. And now you know they hired a realtor. They’re about to start making solid steps forward.

But Dean surprises you with another question.

“Do you think if…”

He doesn’t finish it, but you think you know what he’s asking. You hesitate, your fingers flexing around your glass that beads with condensation. You set the glass down beside you.

Just as you open your mouth to reply—

“All right, pie is cooling and dinner is served!” your mom calls out. Her head pokes out of the sliding glass door to the backyard. You offer a smile, trying to hide how you jolted in your seat.

“Okay, thanks, Mom,” you nod.

You turn back to Dean, who also hesitates. His eyes meet yours, but all too soon, he locks the moment away.

Bracing his hands on his knees, he rocks to his feet and goes out to get Robbie and help your dad bring in the fishing gear.

You grab Dean’s whiskey along with your tea on your way back inside the house. You consider the amber liquid disturbed in his glass, and you down the rest yourself. The burn down your throat is a good distraction. If he asks about it, you’ll say you got the glasses confused.

You know you’ll have to leave that conversation unfinished at the foot of the bench.

Now...

Benny comes by your apartment and helps you into the passenger side of his pickup truck, like the gentleman he is. He takes you to a nice restaurant in downtown, much nicer than the usual sports bar or kid-friendly restaurant. You're very much looking forward to eating at a restaurant that doesn't feature chicken fingers or "kiddie" corn dogs.

“This is gonna be really expensive,” you whisper to him, after he hands his keys over to the valet.

Benny squeezes your hand in his, leaning over to kiss your temple.

“Don’t you worry about that. We both deserve a night out.” His blue eyes gleam with amusement. However, his gaze gentles, becoming more sincere. “You work hard, carin’ for everybody around you. How about you let me take care of you for once.”

Your eyes begin to water, your throat constricting with emotion. You rub his arm gratefully.

“Thank you,” you say. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

It’s always easy with Benny. Nice and simple and easy. Nice, supportive, and considerate.

Nice and safe.

That thought follows you while you and Benny walk into to the restaurant. He’s reserved great seats in the back corner, overlooking a beautiful courtyard. It’s decorated with hydrangeas and light wood dining tables, all framed with a rod iron archway as the sun begins to set just so. After holding your chair out for you before he sits himself, Benny orders a bottle of champagne to kick things off.

He turns to you with a somewhat nervous look in his eyes, like he's steeling himself. It’s uncharacteristic of Benny, who’s always so calm and charming and sure of himself. It makes a zing of anticipation run down your spine, and…a dash of fear. You don’t know why, and you don’t know how to beat the feeling down as you fidget in your seat.

He subtly clears his throat, then takes your hand. “Sweetheart, I know I’m not all that good at the words you’re supposed to say. But I can say that the past three years with you and Robbie, it’s come to mean the world to me.”

Your smile softens. He brushes his thumb over the back of your hand, encouraged by your reaction.

“So I think it’s time I made it clear where I stand, and how much I want to be the man in your life,” he says.

Your eyes begin to widen in shock, but not for the reason he thinks.

“Dean,” you gasp.

Benny’s expression slackens. “What?”

You point over his shoulder, and Benny turns to follow your line of vision. Dean and Lisa have just walked into the restaurant. They notice you pointing their way, and they both pause in surprise as well. Lisa is beautiful as usual in a slinky black dress, completely backless (something you feel you could never pull off, unless you had an invisible bra to keep the girls perked up).

Dean is…well, you’ve very rarely seen him in a suit, but charcoal gray works for him. The open collar and white buttoned-down works for him, as do the three top buttons he’s left undone, showing a tantalizing strip of tanned skin. He stares back at you like he forgot you live in the same time zone, let alone the same zip code.

“Uh, hey!” he casts out an awkward wave, before he makes his way over to you and Benny. Lisa is less than enthused.

“We shouldn’t interrupt their night,” you catch her whisper to him, but Dean doesn’t seem to hear her.

“What’s up, party people! Of all the gin joints in all the world, huh?” Dean says, a little too loudly when he thumps Benny on the back. Benny grunts, giving a bit of a forced chuckle.

“Dean,” he greets. “I think I told you about this particular gin joint. Good to see you can actually clean up once in a while.”

“Ah, you know what, this monkey suit ain’t too bad,” Dean says, pulling at his collar.

You smirk in amusement. “Yeah, I remember how much you complained about wearing a simple tie for Robbie’s Christmas pageant.”

He smirks down at you. “Hey, ties still might not be my thing, but nothing wrong with a sharp collar.”

He pops his for emphasis. You don’t know why it makes you laugh, but it does. Maybe it’s just his face and the silly, endearing expression he makes when he pouts his lips in a “blue steel.”

“So, is this just a night out, or you guys celebrating something special?” Dean asks, gesturing at the champagne bottle and your full glasses of bubbly.

Benny gives his friend a certain look. “Yeah, as a matter of fact. Today’s three years.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. You smile back at him, though you’re a bit self-conscious at the way both he and Dean, and even Lisa have their attention on you.

“We should let you guys get back to it then,” Lisa says.

Honestly, it’s a relief. You and Benny nod, wishing them a goodnight.

For some reason, you notice how Dean’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. But he goes with Lisa, laying a hand on the small of her back. You force yourself to tear your eyes away from them and refocus on Benny. You take up your champagne glass and raise it in offering.

“All right, where were we?” you ask, if with a nervous trill in your belly.

Benny smiles. He takes up his glass and clinks it with yours.

Lisa nearly sighs. She and Dean are back in line at the front of the restaurant, waiting to be seated. The second time she catches Dean glancing over at the table where you and Benny sit, she shakes her head and digs into her purse for the valet card. She’s done with this.

“I think maybe we should go to a different restaurant,” she says.

That finally earns Dean’s attention, mostly confused. “What, why?”

She just gives him a long look.

He realizes that whatever her reasons are, it’s easier to just give in than to fight her on it. He’s learning when to pick his battles. Or is he just giving up?

Also, if tonight’s “the night” he thinks it is for you and Benny, maybe he doesn’t want to stick around after all. Three years, huh?

“All right, fine. Let’s go,” he agrees.

Dean and Lisa wait for the valet to bring the Impala around. The minute he gets behind the wheel and turns the key into the ignition, she changes her mind.

“Look, let’s just go home,” she says. “I don’t really feel like eating out anymore.”

Dean’s brows raise. “What? Aw, come on. We’re already dressed and everything. You look great, Lis. Just tell me where you wanna eat.”

Lisa remains firm, with a small shake of her head. “Please, Dean, just take me home.”

After a moment of indecision, Dean sighs. He revs the ignition and does as she says.

It’s only a fifteen-minute drive back to their apartment, but in that stifling silence, it seems to drag on for a small eternity. He glances at her a couple of times. Lisa has her arms crossed as she stares out the window, watching the other restaurants and mom-and-pops shops and forest trees and old houses of Lebanon, Kansas go by.

Dean counts it a blessing when they’re finally home. He walks up the few short steps up to their ground-floor apartment and unlocks the door. He flicks on the lights inside, and she breezes past him to toss her purse onto the couch.

Dean takes off his blazer and begins to undo the buttons on his cuffs. He watches her all the while, knowing that a storm is brewing. She shucks off her heels and slowly paces the living room on bare feet, like her whirling thoughts are fueling every step.

“All right, I give. What’s going on?” Dean asks. “What’d I do this time?”

She pauses, with her back turned to him.

Shit, he thinks. He shouldn’t have said it like that.

He prepares for the inevitable blow up, but it never comes. Lisa just heaves a sigh. Slowly she turns, and Dean’s shocked and dismayed to see the tears welling up in her deep brown eyes. He makes quick strides toward her, but she raises a hand to keep him at bay.

“Dean, when you picture yourself happy, truly happy,” she says. “Is it with me? Can you imagine yourself marrying me? Buying the house, having kids, growing old together?”

If Dean was thrown for a loop before, he’s even more stunned by her question. “Lis…”

“Just be honest, for once,” she pleads. Her tears begin to brim over, but she blinks, somehow keeping them at bay.

It’s a bit too long before Dean realizes that he can’t give her an answer. At least, not the one he knows she wants to hear.

When he thinks of that picture in his mind, of course he sees his son. But the only other person Dean can imagine there beside him is…

“I…” He wills his mouth to work, but nothing else comes out.

The only face he can conjure is yours. Your eyes are warm and welcoming, your smile as bright and contagious as your laugh.

The only voice he can hear is yours, gentle and strong at the same time.

The only one he can see is you.

He knows the shampoo you use and the perfume you like to wear, how the sweet and floral scents mix together and linger in your hair and on your skin.

Even now he remembers the contours of your body, and how it could fit so well against his. He knows that you used to try and hide your shape under loose, baggy shirts and cargo pants that did nothing for you. He knows how much courage it took you to wear that red dress to his brother’s party, because you told him once, at one of those Sunday dinners at your parents’ house.

Come to think of it, there’s not a whole lot that Dean doesn’t know about you, except maybe what you see when you look at him.

“You love her,” Lisa finishes for him. “I think you always have.”

Dean’s throat tightens. Somehow he swallows anyway, and he shakes his head.

“Lisa, I loved you.”

“Maybe you did, in your own way,” she says, laughing a little through her tears as she wipes them away. “But you already have a family, Dean. Go fight for it.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say, but he knows what he can do.

He goes to her and kisses her cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” he says.

Lisa merely nods, wiping her face dry. She watches Dean Winchester walk out of her apartment, and out of her life for good this time.

Dean calls your cell, but it goes to voicemail. He drives all the way back to the restaurant and doesn’t find you or Benny there.

Dean realizes that what he’s doing, what he plans to do, is not fucking cool. He wouldn’t blame you or even Benny for being severely pissed when Dean shows up. He also knows that he can’t let another day pass where he keeps lying to you, and himself.

He eventually finds you at home. What’s weird is that Benny’s truck isn’t in the driveway—just your car. He knocks on your door, and he waits.

He unconsciously holds his breath while he waits in that terrible existence of limbo. However, his heart thrums back to life when he hears your footsteps drawing closer to the door. Anticipation, excitement, dread, it all roils together inside him like a bad cocktail as the door swings open.

And he’s once again rendered a bit breathless at the sight of you in that dress. The color alone appeals to him, let alone the way it accentuates your every curve, from full breasts to the swell of your hips, the softer slope of your thighs, and bare toes painted. You’re fucking delectable, every curve, and a temptation without you even meaning to be.

You’re just…you’re still so goddamn beautiful, like the night he first saw you. Even now, he can almost feel the give of your thighs under his hands, his fingers pressed to supple flesh.

But then he’s drawn to your face, and your wide eyes full of surprise. Your mascara is a bit smudged though. Your eyes are red too, like you’ve been crying. His brows furrow in concern.

“Dean, what’re you doing here?” you ask.

“I need to talk to you, but uh…did something happen?” he asks. “You okay?”

You’re reluctant to tell him. Did Benny say something to upset you? Or was it something he did?

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say.

Instinctively, Dean knows it’s a lie.

“This isn’t a good time though,” you say, after clearing your throat. “Can we do this tomorrow, maybe?”

Dean leans a hand on the doorframe.

“Please, it’s important,” he says. His eyes implore you harder than his words. Please.

That does it. A sigh passes through your lips, but you let him in. He knows Robbie is with your parents for the night, which actually makes this easier.

Once he steps inside the apartment, Dean does notice that your bedroom door is open. Half the drawers to your dresser are open too, and empty. Certain frames that used to be on your coffee table are no longer there, like the one of you, Benny, and Robbie on a camping trip.

“You want some coffee, or soda?” you ask.

Dean declines and grasps your arm before you can busy yourself into “hostess” mode. He leads you to the couch, where you both sit down together.

“What happened tonight?” he asks. “Where’s Benny?”

Your lower lip wobbles, the beginning of your telltale cry face. Dean knows his son gets it from you, and it always breaks his heart. He squeezes your arm gently, trying to ground you.

“Benny proposed to me tonight,” you confess, taking in a sharp breath. “He proposed, and I couldn’t give him an answer.”

You shake your head as the tears sting hot in your eyes.

“He got so upset, he just—he left!” You throw your hands up. “But honestly, I don’t blame him.”

Dean tries to comfort you as you try and fail to wipe at your face. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, cupping your cheek to brush the tears away himself.

“Why couldn’t you answer him?” he asks.

You look up at Dean, and you finally notice the shine of hope in his eyes. Dean touches your cheek more tenderly.

“Does it mean I have a chance here?” he asks.

Despite what your eyes tell you, you still gape at him in shock. “What? But…what about Lisa?”

“It’s over. For good this time,” Dean shakes his head. “I realized what I wanted for my life, and where my heart is…”

And he chuckles weakly. “Truth is, you’ve had it the whole time, sweetheart.”

You begin to crumble all over again. You pull away from him and his touch, because you can’t believe it. You cover your face with your hands, sniffling as you try to make sense of his words, his touch, and the warm flutter threatening to brim happiness in your heart.

“God, Dean. You can't just..."

"I mean it," he insists.

You're still reluctant to take him seriously...no matter how much you want to. It's a conflicting realization that hurts, and makes you feel stupid for taking so long to figure it out, and makes you hate yourself for hoping his words are true.

"Come the morning, you’re going to change your mind,” you reason, without looking at him. “Like you’ve done with Lisa a thousand times.”

“No,” Dean says firmly. He shifts closer and prompts you to look at him, really look at him.

“Not about this, and you know it,” he says, catching and holding your gaze. “That’s why you couldn’t say yes to Benny. Because you know what we’ve got. It’s the real deal.”

You still look uncertain, even though you can’t bring yourself to pull away this time. Dean has always had this way of looking into the very depths of you, like he can actually see every thought as it passes through your mind.

“I should’ve said yes,” you say. “I can rely on Benny. I know he would stay by my side, and…and I know he won’t hurt me.”

Not like I’ve just hurt him, you think. Guilt still pricks at your heart. The last thing you ever wanted to do was lead him on, and yet, that’s what you’d done, wasn’t it? You thought you had loved him. You’re sure that you did, but maybe it just wasn’t the kind of love that could reach down deep and grab you, set your blood on fire, and make you ache when the burn was gone.

That spark licks across your skin when Dean takes your hands.

“What if I want to be that guy for you,” he says.

You allow yourself to look at him. Really look at him.

You know Dean. When he gets an idea in his head, it inhabits every bone and shred of muscle in his body. There’s no mistaking his resolve, or the steady grip of his hands over yours.

“If you let me, I’ll stay. I won’t leave you,” he says. In his eyes, there’s a firm promise. “I can be the guy you rely on. The man you can trust. The man who’s gonna love you, come whatever. Because now I know what it means. I know how it feels.”

You bite your lower lip against the smile that wants to surface.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

Dean smiles for you. “If you wanna know the truth, I’m pretty sure I’ve been loving you since the day I heard Robbie’s heartbeat for the first time.”

Your tears flow harder at that. A shaky breath escapes you, though it does nothing to steady you. Dean strokes your cheek gently with his thumb.

“Please, just give me this one chance,” he asks. Begs, really.

He doesn’t have to though. You nod, just a little.

“Okay,” you agree. “Let’s try.”

Dean's smile spreads slow, but warm across his face. It’s your favorite kind, the kind that crinkles his eyes.

He leans in and claims your lips with his own. The passion of it is familiar, but you don't think it’s the same as five years ago. Now, there’s an underlying note of tenderness in his touch and each new way he tastes you deeper. He holds nothing back this time, and neither do you.

Your fingers tangle in his shirt, and then in his hair as you moan into his mouth. “Dean.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he answers against your lips, though he doesn’t give you much room to keep talking.

You haven’t heard him call you sweetheart in a long time. You feel your heart knitting back together, stitch by stitch. Tears sting in your eyes anew, but you squeeze your eyes shut against them.

“I…”

You can’t even continue the breathless thought. You hold his face desperately between your hands, pressing your forehead to his for a moment as you both catch your breath. But this man is like the sweetest, most seductive vice. Now that you’ve gotten another hit, you can’t resist. You no longer want to.

His arms wrap around you more securely, and he leans in to lure you back into his kiss. His tongue breaches past your lips to curl along yours with tantalizing strokes. His hands slowly move down your back and along your waist.

“Mmm, missed the hell outta this,” he groans into your mouth. Your heart flutters again at the way he holds you, the way his big hands squeeze you and feel you.

You let him guide you down onto the sofa cushions. He slots himself between your bare thighs and runs his hand up familiar smooth skin, bunching the skirt of your dress higher as he goes. He aims to get himself reacquainted with every soft part of you that welcomes him back.

For once, the gates around your hearts swing free.

Dean never imagined that his own son would hand him the ring he gives to his wife, but today, it just feels like symmetry. He grins and winks at Robbie.

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean says.

His son’s beaming grin is wide and toothy, but the boy takes his job very seriously and delivers the other ring to you. You smile brightly and caress his cheek after you take the shining, white gold band from him. It matches the thinner band that Dean has for you; it'll soon join the engagement ring that once belonged to his mother.

Robbie had liked Benny a lot, but he loves his dad. He’s probably the happiest person in the room to see his parents take each other’s hands in front of the minister.

Benny is understandably absent in the chapel today. You had met with him after that night of your botched anniversary to apologize to him, and so had Dean. Benny understood. He’d admitted that in the back of his mind, he feared this might happen.

“I wouldn’t blame you for being angry with me,” you said to him. “You can even hate me if you want.” Benny gave you a wry, melancholy sort of smile. “Part of me’s still mad at you, I won’t lie…but there’s no use in it. Not even hating you.”

Even though Benny bowed out, carrying his hurt and his grief on those broad shoulders, letting you go meant letting go of a friend too. He put in his paperwork to transfer out of Firehouse 83.

As he’d told Dean himself that day, and in fact, the last words Benny said to him…

“There you go, Lieutenant. A spot’s just opened up.”

Dean didn’t want to get promoted this way. He felt guilty enough as it was, and not just for Benny leaving the firehouse. Benny recommended Dean to the Chief himself though, saying that if they were going to give someone a Lieutenant’s badge, it may as well be the guy who got a perfect score on his test, and had the natural leadership skills to boot.

To the end, Benny was a gentleman.

Now, Sam beckons his nephew over. Robbie quickly goes to his uncle’s side and puffs his little chest out as he stands proud behind his dad.

Dean is able to take you in, your beautiful white dress, and everything about you that makes him smile…including the way you smile back at him.

Man and wife is all he hears. It’s all he needs to hear, before he’s pulling you closer by your newly anointed hand. He dips you for a thorough kiss in front of all your family and friends.

You squeal in surprise, making Dean smile hard enough for his cheeks to hurt. Giggling hard enough to make you tremble, you raise a hand to caress his cheek. But you give him another real kiss after he guides you back up to your feet.

“I love you,” you whisper against his lips. The words are just for him to hear. Dean pulls back enough to see the truth shining in your eyes. Beautiful.

“Can’t help it, right?” he teases.

You smile in amusement, but you grab his chin and shake it.

“You got me,” you reply. “I really, really can’t.”

Your beaming smile softens. Even though the entire room is clapping and hooting and hollering in celebration, in that moment, all you really see is Dean.

Here in his arms, you know that this is where you were meant to end up. From now on, it’s where you’re meant to be.

AN: From Lisa and Benny to Robbie and everything in between. Dean and the reader certainly aren't perfect in this, but what do you think about how their story unfolded? I truly hope you guys enjoy this one, because I've had so much fun with it. 🥰❤️❤️‍🔥

**As a reminder, One More Day (Dean x Latina Plus-Sized!Reader) comes out on 4/04 - the day after my birthday!~

Until then, please let me know what you thought of If I Stay! 😘 I might write more for these two in the future...

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?"

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honeydippedfiction · 2 days ago

Text

She's Mine {JB9}

Synopsis:

Warnings: Heavy Flirting & Tension, Joe Being Down Horrendous, Mild Language, Slight Possessiveness

Themes: Push & Pull Romance, Reader loves teasing Joe, They're in love your honour.

WC: 10.8k

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A/N: I apologise if this sucks, I had so many ideas so I just said screw it and combined them. Also yes there's some similar elements like Red Zone idk I just like Joe like this for some reason, sue me😅

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

It had been nearly two years since Joe and Y/N started dating, and the relationship had changed both of them in ways they hadn’t anticipated. What started as a flirty encounter at a charity event had quickly evolved into something deeper, more complicated, and more real than either of them had expected.

Y/N stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the strap of her dress and smoothing out the fabric. She liked how she looked tonight—sleek, confident, and undeniably herself. But she also couldn’t deny the fluttering in her chest when she thought about Joe. He had a way of making her feel seen, even when she wasn’t sure if she fully understood herself.

Joe had never been with a Black woman before, and despite the constant hum of media attention around them, he never treated her any differently than any other person. But Y/N could sense that, for him, she was an entry into a new world, one that he hadn’t fully explored until they met. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with her culture—far from it. It was just that sometimes, she could see the questions in his eyes. He was learning, too, and though he was often quiet about it, Y/N knew he was just as introspective as she was. Their love was still new, and they were still figuring out how to navigate their differences in ways that felt right for both of them.

"Are you ready, baby?" Joe's voice called out from the other side of the apartment, deep and warm, like it always was when he was close.

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile, and she turned toward the doorway. “Just about. You know how I am—always taking forever.”

Joe leaned against the doorframe, wearing a perfectly tailored suit that fit his broad shoulders just right. He looked good, too good, in that effortlessly cool, "I don’t have to try this hard" way. But his eyes softened when they met hers, a flicker of admiration dancing behind the usual quiet confidence.

“You always look perfect,” he said, his tone so casual, but his eyes held the weight of his words.

Y/N shrugged but felt the warmth spread across her cheeks. “Thanks. But I know you’re just saying that because I’m your girlfriend.”

He smirked, pushing off the door frame and walking toward her. His hand brushed hers as he took a step closer, and despite their routine, she still felt that electric spark every time. "Well, that’s true. But it’s also because it’s the truth." His eyes flickered down to the necklace she was wearing—a delicate gold piece he had bought her for their one-year anniversary. It was simple but thoughtful, just like him.

Y/N smiled, appreciating the way he always made her feel special, even in the smallest of moments. “How’s your wrist?” she asked, noticing the slight tension in his jaw as he reached for his tie.

Joe sighed, rubbing his temple. “Still sore. It’s been a long week of practice. But nothing I can’t handle.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed. She’d been with Joe long enough to know when he was trying to downplay something. “Joe... if you’re hurt, you need to take care of yourself. You’re not invincible.”

He smiled softly at her, but there was a flicker of stubbornness in his eyes. “I’m fine. I can handle it. It’s just a little tension from all the snaps, you know?” He reached for the tie again, and Y/N didn’t miss the way his fingers lingered on the fabric, betraying the tension in his body. She didn’t want to push him, but sometimes she wished he would let his guard down just a little more.

“I still worry about you,” she said softly. “But I’m not going to nag. I’ll just keep making you food that’s good for you.”

Joe chuckled, his usual smirk appearing. “You really think you can fix me with a plate of food?”

“It’s worth a shot,” she replied with a wink. “You’ll feel better with some of my chicken and greens. Trust me.”

Joe laughed again, the sound rich and genuine, and for a moment, Y/N felt her heart soften. She had learned more about him in the past two years than she ever thought possible. He was the first white man she’d ever seriously been with, and the first person she had allowed to get close enough to see both the beauty and the burden of her life. Being the first Black woman Joe had ever dated added a layer of complexity they both had to navigate, but it was one they were both determined to face together.

They had talked about the difference in their experiences in the world, the subtle ways race played into how people viewed them. Joe had never been naïve about the fact that dating Y/N was new for him in many ways. But there was never a moment where he treated her differently—except for the obvious, which was that he cherished her in a way that felt like he was learning to love her culture as much as he loved her.

"Do you ever think about how different we are?" Y/N asked suddenly, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I mean, in terms of where we come from, the things we’ve experienced?”

Joe stopped adjusting his tie, his eyes locking onto hers. There was no hesitancy in his expression, only thoughtfulness. “All the time,” he admitted. “I’ve learned so much from you in ways I didn’t even know I needed. About the way people see you, the way the world works for you. It’s... it’s opened my eyes.”

Y/N nodded, her chest tightening a little. They hadn’t had this kind of conversation in a while, not because they avoided it, but because they both carried it in their hearts in different ways.

“I’m grateful for that,” she said quietly. “But, sometimes, I wonder if it’s hard for you. Dating me. Knowing I’m the first Black woman you’ve ever been with. I know it’s not just about race, but it matters, Joe. It’s a lot to take in.”

Joe’s expression softened, and without saying anything, he reached for her hand, pulling her gently into his chest. “Y/N, it’s not hard for me. It’s just part of the learning curve, you know? And I’m lucky to be on this journey with you. You make me want to be better. For you, for us. You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

Y/N melted into his embrace, feeling the sincerity in his words. “I just want you to know what you’re getting into,” she whispered. “It’s not just about me being your girlfriend—it’s about all the little things. The things I’ve had to grow up with, the things I’ve learned to navigate.”

“I know,” Joe murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But it’s also about us. And I want to learn with you, not just about you.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, holding each other, letting the weight of their two years together settle between them. Y/N had always known Joe was different, that there was something in him that was unlike anyone else. But the longer they were together, the more she saw how much he was growing, how he was changing for the better. And maybe that was why she was willing to keep pushing through the difficult conversations, through the challenges of navigating a relationship that was as beautiful as it was complicated.

After all, their differences didn’t tear them apart. They only made them stronger.

Finally, Joe pulled back slightly, his eyes glimmering with mischief. "So... do I get my greens and chicken tonight, or are you just gonna keep holding out on me?"

Y/N laughed, feeling the tension ease between them as she leaned up and kissed his cheek. "You’re lucky I’m not holding out. Let’s get you fed, QB1."

Joe grinned, his usual swagger returning. “Best decision you’ll make all night.”

The laughter from their conversation faded, but the heat between them didn’t. If anything, it only intensified. Joe’s fingers still lingered on Y/N’s wrist as he pulled away from their hug, and she caught the flicker of desire in his eyes. The tension between them was palpable, crackling in the air like static electricity.

Y/N wasn’t about to let him get away with playing it cool, though. She noticed the way his gaze dropped to her lips for just a second longer than necessary. It was almost like he was waiting for her to make the first move.

She leaned back slightly, teasing the edges of her voice. “You really think you’re getting away with that chicken tonight, huh?”

Joe’s eyes narrowed, his lips quirking up at the corners in a mischievous smile. "It’s not just the chicken I’m after," he muttered under his breath, the weight of his words hanging heavy between them.

Y/N tilted her head, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Oh? What else do you want?”

Joe took a half step forward, closing the gap between them, and there it was—the unmistakable pull between them. The way his presence seemed to take up all the space, filling her senses until there was nothing else. His eyes darkened, his voice low as he looked down at her, "You know exactly what I want."

The way he said it, so blunt and raw, made her heart race. But instead of backing down, Y/N matched his intensity, her chin tilting up defiantly. “Yeah? You think you can handle me tonight, Joe? You’re in for more than just a good meal if you’re not careful.”

Joe’s hand brushed the side of her face as he tilted his head, his thumb running over her jawline like he was savoring the moment. His touch was so soft, so tender, that it made the sudden heat that rushed through her feel like a burn. “You have no idea what I can handle, Y/N,” he muttered, the words almost a challenge.

Y/N’s lips parted as her breath hitched, caught somewhere between temptation and control. “Maybe you should show me, then,” she whispered back, a daring little tease in her voice. Her fingers grazed the front of his shirt, brushing the buttons like she was trying to make him lose his composure.

But as soon as she touched him, Joe seemed to snap, his hands suddenly on her waist, pulling her closer with an urgency that surprised her. His lips were just inches from hers, but he paused, his eyes searching hers for a moment. “You’re playing with fire, Y/N,” he growled, his voice thick with desire and warning.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She could feel the intensity building, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. “Maybe I like the burn,” she teased, leaning in as if to kiss him—but then pulling back at the last second, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Joe cursed under his breath, his hands tightening around her waist, pulling her flush against him so that she could feel the heat of his body. "You're killing me, you know that?"

Y/N’s smile deepened. "I haven’t even started yet."

The playful tension between them was electric, but there was an underlying intensity that both of them had come to expect. Y/N was used to his confidence, but tonight, there was something about Joe’s demeanor that made her feel like he was just on the edge of losing control—and the idea of that, of him giving in to her completely, stirred something in her she couldn’t ignore.

Joe’s grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her skin with just a hint of possessiveness. "You’re not gonna make me wait forever, are you?" His words were almost a warning now, a hint of frustration seeping through.

Y/N’s smile softened, but she wasn’t ready to give in. Not yet. “Maybe I will. You don’t get to control everything, Joe."

The sharpness in her voice made his chest tighten. He hated the push and pull, but he couldn’t deny that it excited him. There was something about her—about the way she made him feel out of control, something he hadn’t experienced before. Usually, he was the one in charge, the one everyone turned to for answers. But with Y/N? It was different. And damn if it didn’t drive him wild.

"You think I’m the one who needs to be in charge?" Joe said with a dark chuckle, leaning his forehead against hers for just a second. "You have no idea, do you? You have me twisted in ways you don’t even know."

Y/N’s lips brushed his ear as she leaned in, just a whisper. "That’s the problem, Joe. You think you’re in charge. But you’re just playing catch-up."

For a moment, Joe didn’t know whether to pull her closer or push her away. The pull between them was so strong, he could hardly breathe. "You think I’m playing?" he breathed, his hands skimming over her sides, holding her as if he couldn’t get enough. "I’m not the one playing games here. You’re the one making me lose control. Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing to me."

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and she let out a little laugh that only made Joe’s grip on her tighten. The sound of it, that soft but teasing laugh, was like a match to his already burning desire. She knew exactly what she was doing—and damn if it wasn’t driving him crazy.

"You really think you're the one in control here, huh?" Y/N teased, her fingers gently tracing the edge of his jaw. Her touch was light, almost deliberately so, and it only made Joe ache for more. She could feel his pulse racing under her fingertips, the tension between them thickening with every second.

Joe’s breath hitched. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his composure with her this close, her lips practically begging him to kiss her again, her body pressed up against his in a way that felt like fire and ice all at once. But he couldn’t back down. Not now.

“No, I don’t think I’m in control,” Joe murmured, his voice rough. His hands slid lower along her waist, pulling her even closer so there was no more space between them. “I know I’m not in control. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fight for it.”

Y/N arched an eyebrow, clearly amused by his admission. “Fight for it?” she repeated, her lips curling into a seductive smile. "You’ve already lost, Joe. You’re way behind, and you’re still trying to catch up.”

Joe chuckled, a low sound that vibrated against her ear. His hands tightened on her hips as if to claim her, his lips grazing the edge of her earlobe. “You think you’ve won? You think I’m just going to let you walk away with the upper hand?” His words were laced with the kind of challenge that sent a thrill through both of them. "That’s cute."

Y/N’s smile faltered for just a second, a flicker of something dangerous sparking in her eyes. She wasn’t used to backing down, not from anyone, especially not from Joe. But there was something in his presence tonight, something possessive and all-consuming, that made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was right about this tug-of-war between them.

“You really think you can turn this around?” she asked, voice almost a dare. Her fingers found the collar of his shirt, pulling him down just a little closer, her breath warm against his skin. “Prove it.”

Joe felt his resolve slip. The playful tension was still there, but now there was something deeper, a shift from flirtation to something that could easily cross into something darker, more primal. “Don’t tempt me, Y/N,” he growled, his lips brushing over her neck. He wasn’t even sure if he meant it as a warning or a challenge anymore.

And then it happened. In one swift move, Joe leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was far from tender. This time, there was no hesitation, no games. He kissed her as though he had nothing left to lose, his hands gripping her with a mix of desperation and possessiveness that made Y/N gasp into the kiss.

For a moment, she let herself be swept away, her hands tangling in his hair, matching his intensity. But just as quickly as the kiss started, she pulled away, her lips lingering just out of reach, her eyes flashing with mischief.

“See?” Y/N whispered, breathless from the kiss. “You’re always a step behind, Joe.”

The teasing tone in her voice was the last straw. Joe’s jaw clenched as he grabbed her by the waist and spun her around, pinning her against the wall with surprising force. Her breath hitched as her back collided with the cool surface, but the fire in her eyes only spurred him on. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke in a low, almost dangerous tone.

“Don’t push me too far, Y/N,” he warned, his voice thick with desire. “You think I’m playing, but you have no idea what I’m capable of when I’m this close to losing it.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at him, the powerful intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m not afraid of you,” she said, her voice steady even though her pulse was racing. “Not at all.”

Joe’s lips curled into a grin, but there was something darker in it now, something possessive. “You should be,” he said, before capturing her lips again in a kiss that was rougher this time, more demanding, as though he was claiming her in every way possible. His hands moved over her body, a touch that was both gentle and forceful at the same time, as if he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to cherish her or lose himself completely in her.

Y/N’s fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing him just as much as he needed her. The mix of their bodies, the pull between them, was intoxicating.

But then, as quickly as it had started, Joe pulled back again, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths mingling as they both tried to regain control. His hands were still on her, gripping her firmly, but there was a softness to the way he held her now, a vulnerability he didn’t show often.

“You think I’m losing, huh?” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not the one who’s gonna give in first, Y/N.”

Y/N’s chest rose and fell with each breath, her lips tingling from his kisses. “Maybe you won’t give in,” she said, her voice low and teasing, “but you sure as hell are going to work for it.”

Joe’s grip on her tightened, a low growl escaping his throat as the push and pull of their relationship continued to blur the line between control and surrender. “If I have to work for it,” he whispered, his voice dark, “then I’ll make sure you never forget who’s in charge.”

—

Joe had never been in a relationship like this before. Sure, he’d had flings. The casual dates, the one-night stands, even a few steady things here and there. But nothing like this. Nothing that could even compare to the way Y/N made him feel. It wasn’t just about the sex—the way she had him on edge, unable to think straight when she was near—it was the depth of everything she brought to his life. The way her presence grounded him, but also made him crave the chaos she brought.

But Y/N? She wasn’t like the other women he’d dated. She wasn’t trying to fit herself into some idea of what he wanted. She was unapologetically herself. And even though Joe had never dated a black woman before, he was more than okay with it. Y/N wasn’t just beautiful. She was real. She brought a different energy, a new perspective into his life, and she was everything he didn’t know he needed.

Still, that didn’t mean he didn’t feel in over his head sometimes.

Joe stood by the window in his office, looking out over the city. He hadn’t meant to be standing there in silence, but his mind was racing. He kept thinking about how far they’d come. About the late nights, the quiet moments, the arguments and apologies, and of course, the pleasure. God, Y/N had a way of getting under his skin. But she also had this way of making him feel like he was the only one who mattered to her.

As if on cue, there was a soft knock on the door. His heart fluttered, and for a second, he was caught off guard. He hadn’t even realized he was waiting for her.

“Come in,” he called, his voice smoother than he expected.

The door opened, and Y/N stepped in, her presence filling the room instantly. She was wearing an oversized sweater that hung off her shoulders just right, and those damn jeans that hugged her in all the right places. Joe's pulse quickened, his hands instinctively tightening around the edge of the window frame.

Y/N noticed, of course. She always noticed.

"What's got you so distracted?" she asked, her voice a mix of teasing and concern. Her brown eyes glinted with that signature mischief, but there was something deeper there too. The way she always seemed to look at him, like she was figuring him out with every passing moment.

Joe chuckled, but it was a little breathless. "Just thinking, that's all."

She raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Thinking about me?" she asked, her tone teasing, yet a bit more serious than she probably meant.

Joe met her gaze, unable to hide the intensity in his ocean eyes. “Of course. Always thinking about you.”

The words left his mouth before he could stop them, but the moment they did, he realized just how true they were. Y/N was always on his mind, even when she wasn’t with him. He’d never been someone who got caught up before. Never someone who let himself fall so hard for someone else, but with Y/N? It was impossible to hold back.

Y/N walked toward him, taking slow, deliberate steps that sent a spark of desire straight through him. She stopped just a few inches from him, looking up at him through those dark, knowing eyes. She was so close now, he could feel the warmth of her body, the sweet scent of her perfume mixing with the air between them.

“You know,” she began, her voice low, “for someone who claims to have it all figured out, you sure don’t seem very confident tonight.”

Joe swallowed, unable to tear his gaze away from her lips. God, she was doing it again. Throwing him off balance, just enough to make him want more.

“I’m confident,” he muttered, his hand brushing against hers, the touch almost accidental but still enough to send a jolt of electricity through him. “Just... a little distracted by the most beautiful woman in the room.”

Y/N's lips twitched into a smile, but there was a glimmer of something softer in her eyes. Something that told Joe she could see right through him. She knew what she did to him.

“You’re not the only one who's distracted, Joe,” she whispered, stepping closer still until her chest was almost touching his. "It's cute how you pretend like you're not down horrendous for me."

He smirked, though it was shaky, unsure. “I’m not pretending. I just...” He hesitated, his voice lowering. “You’ve had me from the beginning, Y/N. You know that.”

Y/N reached up, her fingers grazing the side of his face as she let the silence stretch between them. Joe’s heart was beating too fast, his breath shallow as her touch seemed to burn him. It wasn’t a flirtation anymore; it was something heavier, something deeper.

She looked up at him with that same mixture of challenge and vulnerability. “Then why haven’t you kissed me tonight yet?”

Joe didn’t even think—he leaned down, his lips crashing into hers with a hunger that had been building between them for what felt like forever. He didn’t care about the world outside. In this moment, there was only her—the way she tasted, the way she responded to him, her body pressing into his like she was trying to absorb him.

But just as quickly as she had kissed him, she pulled away, her lips curling into that playful smile again. "You really think that was going to be that easy, huh?"

His chest was rising and falling with each breath, his mind in a fog as he tried to process what just happened. “God, Y/N. You’re killing me.”

Y/N’s hands slid up his chest, fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt as she deepened the kiss, her body leaning into his as though she couldn’t get close enough. Joe’s heart was pounding, his pulse a frantic rhythm in his ears. She made him feel like he was on the edge of something he couldn’t pull back from, and every part of him—his mind, his body, his soul—was screaming for more.

But just when Joe thought he had her, just when he thought he could finally take control of this burning attraction between them, Y/N pulled back, her lips leaving his in a slow, deliberate drag that had him groaning in frustration. Her breath was shallow, her eyes heavy with something both tender and dangerous.

"You’re getting too comfortable, Joe," she whispered, her voice teasing but with an edge. "You really think I’m just gonna let you have me this easily?"

Joe’s chest was rising and falling with every breath, his entire body tense. Damn, she was good at this. She knew exactly how to make him feel like he was on the edge of losing control without actually giving in. It made his head spin and his heart race.

"I don’t know, Y/N," he said, his voice low and rough. "But I sure as hell think you’re making it harder to hold back."

Her smile was wicked, and there was that playful glint in her eyes again—like she was daring him to chase her, to prove just how far he was willing to go. He couldn’t tell if she was pulling away on purpose, to test his patience or to test them, but he hated it. He hated not knowing if she was teasing him, or if she was actually trying to push him away.

"Maybe I like making you work for it," she replied, her tone sultry, her fingers trailing across the fabric of his shirt before resting on his collarbone. The subtle pressure sent a shockwave of heat through his body.

Joe shook his head, his hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer as his eyes darkened with intensity. "You’re playing with fire, Y/N," he growled. His voice was low, dangerous, and there was something almost possessive in the way he held her—something that he couldn’t deny, something that had been building for months.

"Am I?" she asked, cocking her head, that ever-present challenge dancing behind her eyes. "I think you like it."

Joe leaned down, his lips grazing her ear. "You have no idea how much," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. His fingers tightened on her waist, almost as if trying to hold her in place, as if he couldn’t let her slip away again.

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound of it like music to his ears, even though it was teasing and full of mischief. "You’re funny, Joe," she said, pulling away just enough to look up at him, her hand resting on his chest. "You act like you're the only one in control here. Like you’re the only one who can make moves."

Joe was breathless. "You know I’m not the only one," he said, his lips brushing hers again in a brief, heated kiss. He was so close to breaking. So close to giving in to this tension that had been building between them for what felt like forever.

"But you sure do like pretending," Y/N teased, a smile tugging at her lips. She gave him that look again—the one that made his heart race and his thoughts scatter. It was a look that said she knew just how much power she had over him. And damn, if that didn’t make him fall for her all over again.

Joe let out a frustrated sigh, his hands gripping her hips tightly. "God, you’re killing me, Y/N." His voice was rough with longing, his body leaning into hers, his breath coming faster with each passing second. He wanted to kiss her, to take this further, but there was something about the way she held back that kept him in check.

She reached up, her fingers brushing against his jaw, her touch soft, almost teasing. “Then don’t wait for me, Joe,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. “Take what you want.”

Y/N’s touch lingered on Joe’s skin, sending electric sparks across his chest. He’d never quite felt this way before. She was different—beautiful in a way that felt so familiar, so raw. But there was something else in the air between them now, something that made his chest tighten, his breath catch.

Joe’s heart slammed in his chest. He knew what was coming. Hell, he had been waiting for it, but now that it was here, he found himself caught between the urge to kiss her senseless and the need to figure out why he felt like he was failing her in some way.

His hands rested at his sides, the tension thick between them. “You think I’m scared?” he muttered, his voice rough with frustration. “You’ve been making me work for this—for you.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she reached up, her fingers grazing the side of his face again. “Scared? Nah. Just... you don’t seem like the type of guy to let anyone get under your skin. But with me? I think I’m doing just that.”

The words hit him like a punch. He wasn’t scared of her—hell, he wasn’t even sure what scared felt like anymore. But there was this weight to her, this intensity. The way she carried herself. And the deeper he got into this with her, the more he was realizing just how much he had underestimated her, and how much he needed her in a way he’d never felt before.

“I’m not scared,” he muttered, a half-laugh escaping his lips, but it sounded more like a sigh. “You’re just…” He paused, struggling to find the words. “You’re not like anyone I’ve ever been with.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him with those dark eyes that seemed to see right through him. She wasn’t just teasing anymore. This wasn’t playful. This was real. She was real.

“Not like anyone? Is it because I’m... different?” Her voice was low, almost too casual, but Joe heard the subtle vulnerability beneath it. “Because I’m Black?”

Her words hit him in a way he didn’t expect. His mind whirled as he stared at her, realizing just how much he hadn’t considered. He’d never dated a woman like Y/N. Hell, he hadn’t even considered the idea that his feelings for her would bring him face-to-face with things he’d never had to think about before—things that were buried deep under the surface. The idea that he wasn’t just falling for her, but for everything she represented, terrified him.

His chest tightened at her question, because it was the kind of thing he had been avoiding even thinking about. He’d never dated a woman like Y/N before. Never been with someone who not only challenged his perceptions but also made him feel this level of unsettled in a way that he couldn’t even put into words.

“You know,” he started, his voice unsteady. “You’re the first Black woman I’ve ever dated. And I—I didn’t even realize how different that was until I started... really thinking about it.”

Y/N’s gaze softened, a quiet understanding passing between them. She wasn’t surprised. Joe knew she’d seen this coming. But her reaction still felt like a weight off his chest. She didn’t make him feel stupid for saying it, for realizing something he hadn’t thought about before.

“I get it,” she said gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re not the first guy to have that realization. It’s okay to feel... whatever you’re feeling.”

But that wasn’t the thing that had been weighing on Joe’s mind. It was deeper than just dating someone from a different background. It was about how much she made him question himself, made him confront things he didn’t even know were there. How freaking terrified he was of messing this up.

“I don’t want to screw this up,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never thought I’d end up with someone like you, Y/N. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she reached up to cup his face in her hands. “What do you mean, someone like me?”

Joe’s breath hitched, and he felt a tightness in his chest. “Someone who... challenges me. Who makes me see the world differently. Someone who’s not afraid to call me out. But also someone who makes me feel like I don’t know enough, like... like I’ve been missing out on a whole world I didn’t even know was there.”

Y/N gave him a faint, understanding smile. “You’re not the first white guy I’ve dated who feels like that. But, Joe... you don’t need to apologize for it. I don’t need you to have all the answers. I just need you to be you.”

Joe closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, his chest rising and falling as he took a shaky breath. “You’re so much more than I expected. And I’m... so far in my head about everything, I don’t even know what I’m doing. But I need you to know how much I care. How much I... want you.”

Her fingers trailed down his neck, and she tilted her head, studying him carefully. “I know, Joe. I feel it too. But you’re going to have to stop overthinking it. I’m not some prize you have to win. You don’t need to prove yourself to me. Just be with me.”

Joe’s pulse hammered in his ears. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to pull her into him and never let go, but this... this was different. He had to be real with her. This wasn’t just a game, or some fling. He knew that now.

“Y/N...” He shook his head, frustrated with himself. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t know how to make you understand how much this means to me. You’re my first everything like this.”

She looked at him, the corners of her lips lifting in a knowing smile. “I know, Joe. And I’m not looking for perfection. I’m looking for real. And right now, I’m here. I’m with you. And that’s enough for me.”

He leaned his forehead against hers, taking in her words, trying to calm the whirlwind inside his chest. This was real. Y/N wasn’t asking for him to have all the answers. She wasn’t asking for perfection. She was asking for him to show up.

And for the first time in a long while, Joe felt like he could do that. He could be himself with her. All of him. Even the parts that terrified him.

“I’m down horrendous for you,” Joe admitted, his voice rough and full of raw honesty. “I’ve never been like this with anyone before. You’ve got me tangled up in you. In us.”

Y/N smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Good. You’re exactly where I need you to be.”

And in that moment, Joe knew it wasn’t just the feeling of being “down horrendous” that mattered. It was the fact that he was letting himself fall—for her, for this connection. And for the first time, he wasn’t scared of the drop.

–

Joe leaned against the kitchen counter, looking like he was trying his hardest to act casual, but Y/N could see right through him. He was completely down horrendous. She had that effect on him, and they both knew it.

"You know," she said, sliding the last slice of pizza onto her plate, her eyes glinting with playful mischief. "You keep looking at me like that, Joe. People might start thinking you’re in love with me or something."

Joe scoffed, but there was no mistaking the slight pink flush creeping up his neck. He was definitely flustered, despite how hard he tried to hide it. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," he muttered, trying to shift his attention to the game on TV, but his eyes kept darting back to her. Of course she caught it.

Y/N leaned in just a little closer, letting the tension between them simmer. "You sure about that? Because you’re looking at me like you’re about to do something… wild."

"Stop," he warned, his voice rougher than he intended, the kind of warning that was more an invitation than anything else. His gaze was locked onto her lips now, and she smirked.

"Make me," she challenged, arching an eyebrow.

Joe's breath hitched. This was it—every damn time she got this close, he could feel that pull. The push and pull between them had been relentless ever since they started dating nearly two years ago. But it wasn’t just the attraction; it was the way she was different—the first Black woman he’d ever dated, and the one who made him question every idea he had about what he was looking for in a partner.

Y/N wasn’t like anyone he had dated before. She didn’t play by his usual rules, didn’t fawn over his fame or football career. She challenged him. She forced him to confront parts of himself that he didn’t even know existed—things about race, identity, culture, and connection that he hadn’t thought about before he met her.

She was unapologetically confident, bold, and there was something about the way she held herself that made Joe feel like he was constantly on edge, wanting more but not entirely sure how to navigate it.

"I’m serious," he said, his voice softer now, almost like he was trying to regain control. "You’re killing me with that look."

Y/N’s eyes softened, but only for a second. Then, as if she couldn't help herself, she leaned in just a fraction closer. "I’m not doing anything. You're just letting me get to you." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it felt like an accusation.

Joe exhaled, frustrated and fully aware of the shift in the air. He could already feel the possessiveness creeping up—he hated the thought of anyone else getting her attention the way he did. He wasn’t used to being the one who felt jealous, but with Y/N, it was different. He needed to be the one to keep her attention locked on him.

"Don’t do that," he growled, stepping closer, almost trapping her against the counter. His hands landed on either side of her, caging her in, but his eyes were far from angry. They were heated, dark. "Don’t make me lose control."

Y/N leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, her smile teasing but knowing. "You’re already losing it, Joe. I can tell."

Joe wasn’t sure why he was fighting it anymore. His usual smooth, confident self had fallen away, replaced by something more primal. Y/N had this way of getting under his skin, making him feel exposed in a way no one ever had before.

But she didn’t give him a chance to recover. She stepped out from the kitchen counter, making a show of casually walking past him. She brushed her fingers against his arm, sending a jolt straight to his chest. "You really think I’m gonna be the one to lose control here?" she said, her voice a little breathless, knowing damn well how she was affecting him.

Joe's patience was wearing thin. "You’re playing with fire, Y/N," he said, low and intense, stepping up behind her. She wasn’t going to get away with that. Not this time.

She tilted her head, her eyes daring him to do something about it. "Then burn me, Joe. You’re the one who can’t handle it."

Joe’s hands shot out, grabbing her wrist with a little more force than he meant to, but Y/N didn’t flinch. She liked it. Hell, she wanted it. "I don’t want to hear you talking like that unless you mean it," he said, his breath hot against her ear, his fingers tightening around her wrist just enough to make her shiver.

She tilted her head back, her lips brushing against his ear. "You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t say," she teased, but there was a flicker of something else in her voice—a challenge he couldn’t ignore.

Joe’s grip loosened just slightly, but not enough for her to pull away. He was always teetering between wanting to let go completely and keeping things just a little out of reach. But tonight? He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending he wasn’t all in.

"You think you’re in charge, huh?" He leaned in closer, the heat between them practically crackling. "You forget who you’re dealing with. I’m the one who calls the shots here."

Y/N smiled, lips curling sensually. "Then make me listen."

It was impossible to ignore the magnetism between them anymore. They had been together for almost two years, and while they had their ups and downs, the tension between them was always undeniable. Their relationship had made Joe confront parts of himself he never thought he would. Y/N was the first woman to make him feel so seen, to challenge him in ways that pushed him outside his comfort zone. She wasn’t just any woman—she was the first Black woman he had ever dated, and somehow, everything was different with her. She made him think differently, not just about the world, but about himself.

Her presence was a constant reminder of that shift, and he couldn’t help but feel both unsettled and more alive than he ever had before.

Joe’s hand drifted up, brushing her hair back from her neck as he pulled her closer. "You’re gonna regret that," he warned, his voice low and serious.

But Y/N didn’t look scared. She only leaned in closer, their faces a breath away. "We’ll see, won’t we?"

—-

The atmosphere in the room was electric, the kind of night that felt bigger than both of them. The NFL Honors was an event of its own, the crowd bustling with the game’s finest—players, coaches, and legends. The stage was set for glitz, glamour, and recognition, and the spotlight was firmly on Joe. But for him, it wasn’t the award that was making his heart race.

It was Y/N.

She was standing just off to the side of the room, her presence commanding attention even though she wasn’t the one being celebrated tonight. The deep, midnight blue of her gown hugged her body in all the right ways, the delicate straps that criss crossed her back highlighting the graceful curve of her neck. Her hair was styled in soft waves, a perfect contrast to the sharp, sleek edges of her dress. Her lips were painted in a deep shade of red, her eyes glimmering with mischief, her confidence so palpable that it could be felt in the air around her.

Joe couldn’t stop looking at her.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen her dressed up before. But tonight, she was radiating something new—something electric. His hand itched to reach out to her, to pull her into him, to remind everyone around them that she was his.

"You’re making it hard to concentrate, you know that?" Joe murmured under his breath, his eyes glued to her as she turned to look at him, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, the hint of a challenge in her gaze. "Is that a problem?" she teased, leaning a little closer, her voice like honey but laced with something daring.

Joe’s chest tightened. The way she always had that effect on him, the way she made everything else fade away when she was near—it was like no one else mattered. Especially tonight, when everything felt like it was culminating in this perfect moment.

"No," he responded simply, his voice low, his eyes darkening with desire. "But you might be distracting the hell out of me."

Before Y/N could say anything else, Ja'Marr Chase and Tee Higgins slid into view, each of them sporting devilish grins. Joe couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. His two closest teammates had always loved to tease him, especially when it came to Y/N.

Ja'Marr nudged Joe with his elbow, an exaggerated whistle escaping his lips as he eyed Y/N. “Damn, Joe. You lucky as hell. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve got the best thing in the room right there.”

Tee, unable to keep a straight face, chimed in. “Bro, you’re seriously making us look bad. We’re all dressed up, but she’s got you beat. I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to compete with that.”

Joe's grin was the kind that wasn’t fully amused, but still carried that cocky edge. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, but his gaze never left Y/N. She was still looking at him, her lips curling into a soft smile, but there was something dangerous in the way she glanced back at him—like she knew exactly what was going on, and she was loving every second of it.

"You both wish," Joe muttered, but his eyes were already scanning Y/N once more, his desire impossible to hide. He didn’t care who noticed—he was so down bad for her, and he liked it that way.

Ja'Marr snickered and glanced at Tee. "Man, this dude’s gone soft. The moment he found her, he stopped paying attention to all the rest of us." He winked at Joe. "Don't worry, we get it. She's something else."

Joe’s jaw clenched, but there was a glint of pride in his eyes. "Don't get it twisted, I’m just making sure no one forgets who she’s with." He said it like it was nothing, but his voice was low, protective, possessive in a way that only Y/N could inspire.

Y/N noticed, of course. She caught the way Joe’s tone shifted when he spoke about her, how his voice had dropped with that familiar possessiveness, and she couldn’t help the thrill it sent through her. Her smile deepened, but her eyes held a challenge.

“Is that what you’re doing, baby?” she murmured, her voice low but laced with heat, every syllable heavy with the unspoken pull between them. “Trying to mark your territory?”

Joe looked back at her, his expression softening, but his eyes still filled with that intensity, that hunger. "Damn right. No one else gets to look at you the way I do."

There it was again, the low, undeniable tension between them. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She loved how possessive he could be, how the world melted away the moment they were alone together. It made her feel seen, wanted, like she was the only thing that mattered to him. And in a room full of people, that was what really kept her coming back for more.

Ja'Marr and Tee, sensing the shift, couldn’t help but chuckle at Joe’s evident struggle to keep his cool. “Alright, man, we’ll leave you to it,” Ja'Marr said, flashing a grin. “Just don’t break any necks, alright? We still have a night to get through.”

Joe shot them a quick glare, but he didn’t care. Not with Y/N still standing there, her eyes locked on his, her smile sly and seductive. As soon as the guys moved away, he took a step toward her, his gaze never leaving hers.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, playing it cool, but there was a wicked glint in her eye. "You like that, huh? Getting teased in front of your whole team like that?"

Joe didn’t answer at first. He didn’t need to. His body was already moving toward her, his hand coming to rest on her waist, his fingers brushing the small of her back as he pulled her closer. The slight possessiveness in his touch sent a fire shooting through her, and before she knew it, she was leaning into him, the tension between them so thick it was almost unbearable.

“I like that you’re mine,” Joe whispered against her ear, his voice low but full of that dangerous edge she craved. "And everyone else is gonna know it tonight."

Y/N’s lips curled into a smile, her breath catching in her throat. "Is that so?" she murmured. "Well, lucky for you, I don’t mind showing them."

His grip on her tightened just a little, his eyes darkening. “You sure about that? You wanna test me tonight, Y/N?”

The challenge was clear in his voice, the flirtation palpable. But beneath it all, she could feel the undercurrent of something deeper. Something real.

Y/N’s heart pounded, and with a sly smile, she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek—just a soft brush of her lips against his skin. But her voice, when it came, was smooth and full of promise.

“I’ll show you just how much I’m yours, Joe,” she whispered, her words barely audible above the music and chatter.

Joe’s breath hitched, his hands coming to rest on her hips, possessive and claiming, and he could hardly think straight anymore. “Damn right you will,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “Just wait ‘til we’re alone, baby.”

And as they stood there, surrounded by the flash of cameras and the cheers of the night, Joe and Y/N both knew that tonight, the real celebration wouldn’t be about awards or recognition. It would be about them—what they had, what they’d fought for, and how, despite everything, they had each other.

And Joe? He was so down bad for her, and that was exactly how he liked it.

JB9 Taglist: @lilfreakjez, @dasia21

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