#this is why they need Deacon

[shazzbaa]

"Left where you are right, in all things -- including the heart."

Stumbled across some more reflection lore recently and UMMMMM I CANT BELIEVE DRY SAMUEL CANONICALLY SOLD MY CHILD TO MR FIRES?????????

(context under the cut)

So in the Parabolan War, if you're a little careless about empowering your reflection to help you, it can tAKE YOUR TROOPS AND MAKE YOU WAGE A CAMPAIGN AGAINST YOURSELF.... at the end of which it admits that it lured you out here because it wants to know what would have happened if it had chosen differently -- the one difference between you and your reflection is a crucial choice in the pursuit of your ambition: where you went right, it went left. Your reflection makes the opposite choice to you, and if you decide to sate its curiosity, you get to show it what's different -- in my case, my reflection saw the light of the hybrid false-star, safe on the roof, and I saw the reflection expensively dressed and felt the security that comes with the gratitude of a Master.

So obviously I had to lose my mind and draw this immediately.

I think a version of Samuel who sold the hybrid would have to have done it for the sake of London, a child sacrificed to save the city. But I don't think he could make that choice and not be changed by it, not let it make him a little more cynical, a little more willing to ingratiate himself with power when needed. I also like the idea of every piece of the end of the ambition going slightly to the left in Reflection Samuel's version of events -- Where Samuel apologised and bowed to the Boil to make amends, his reflection reaches for the power the Cats offered that would let him win. Where Samuel hesitated and looked for mercy when confronted with Poor Edward's violent whirlwind of self-destruction, his reflection shoots him dead. He's not an evil version or anything, he's mostly the same guy -- just one who was willing to prioritise the safety of his friends and his city over his own morals.

[corpsehouse]

Chibis ive done recently

[as-dreamers-do]

my multi-layered plans don't always come off

but when once in a blue moon they do, it's the best feeling in the world

[stesichoreanpalinode]

So here is my question:

We now have the full sequence of photos from the contact sheet which is part of the auction:

Why did they choose this image, of all the possible options, as the one that became a single cover and was otherwise widely officially used - as posted by Queen Official today in fact?

John’s sassy hip angle? Brian without his jacket on? Freddie’s glare at the camera? Or did they all just think ‘the image we want to project is of Roger about to jab Freddie’s butt with his finger’????

[gcrdy]

Deacon is certainly sending mixed messages here. On one hand, he's wearing a priest's collar, the whole getup, in fact. To anyone else, they would rightfully assume he's a priest. But, on the other hand, he had a Glock pointed at Gordy's chest. That seemed a bit contradictory. "I promise you, shooting people is not my favorite thing to do." But? "But...you have sticky fingers Mister Jackson. And theft I cannot abide by. Do you know what happens to thieves? Biblically speaking?"

@dxsole

This wasn't the first time Gordy had gotten a gun pointed at him, but it was certainly the first time it had been done by someone dressed in this particular get-up. He had to wonder if this guy was the real deal or if he was just playing dress-up, but it was hard to focus on that question when there was cold metal entirely too close to his body. No matter how many times it happened, it really wasn't something a person could get used to...particularly the people who enjoyed the whole being alive, a group of which Gordy was a member. Fortunately, this guy seemed to be giving him some opportunity to plead his case. He couldn't argue that he hadn't stolen, he'd been well and truly caught, but maybe he could charm his way out of being turned into Swiss cheese. "I've never been much for Bible study," he replied with a well-practiced, placating, smile. "But, well, I do recall the Bible talkin' an awful lot about forgiveness. So why don't I just return what's yours and we forget this whole thing?"

[yanderedrabbles]

do you have any physical descriptions for each yanderes? like for cowboy yandere I’m imagining a dirty blonde tan skin, freckles and stubble on his face

Yandere boys and their physical descriptions

It kind of shifts around a lot and this is how I picture them but it's not a definitive description by any means. This is not canon.

Yandere! Cowboy is literally exactly as you described him. A real cornfed American cowboy. Strong jawline, stubble and blonde hair he keeps swept back under his Stetson.

Yandere! Soldier is the quintessential soldier from a Post-Soviet state. Buzzed hair, tattoos, a straight nose and high cheekbones. A bit on the pale side with dark eyes. Ridiculously buff.

Yandere! Boyfriend is a big guy. That's all I know. I usually picture him as Samoan. With shoulder length, wavy hair and olive skin.

Yandere! State Trooper is the definition of never trust a blond. He keeps his hair short and in a regulation cut but it usually gets a bit messed up whenever he runs into you. (We all know why). I see him as having forearm tattoos and he's almost always clean shaven. Usually has a light tan.

Yandere! Cop has a friendly, approachable face. He looks like a nice guy, someone you can trust to listen to you when you get in trouble. I see him as African American with a flat Midwestern accent. Usually keeps his hair short and within regulations, but he might sometimes get it braided. He's got plenty of lean muscle and he ain't afraid to use his strength when he needs to.

Yandere! Gangster is tall and strong, but still a bit on the thin side. Usually wears a suit but almost always takes off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves. I picture him as a dark haired Denji from Chainsaw Man. Definitely wears one of those slutty silver chains that boys like so much.

Yandere! Incubus is tall with a slightly muscular build. Where does a supposed priest find time to get buff? Who knows. He has long dark hair that he keeps neatly swept back and that brushes the edge of his dog collar. He wears a dark wood rosary. His canine teeth seem unusually sharp. In his demon form, his eyes are usually a deep wine red.

Yandere! Desert Bandit is inspired by the Tuareg and Amazigh. I see him with dark skin, long black hair and golden eyes. He definitely has a hooked/Roman nose and a traditional tattoo on one cheekbone. Wears kohl in his eyes that gives him a very sexy glare.

Yandere! Academic Rival is a nepo baby so fashion wise, he usually wears suits, vests and shirts. He basically looks like a Ralph Lauren model. Goldish hair that's kind of wavy. A bit on the thin side. He relies on wits more than strength when he wants you to do something.

Yandere! Apocalypse Survivor is pretty much inspired by Deacon St John from Days Gone. Dark hair cut in a mullet and grey eyes. He's got a few tattoos on his back and he wears silver studs in his right ear. He's got a mean right hook too.

Yandere! Greek Champion is one buff bastard. Shoulder length black hair and olive skin darkened by the Mediterranean sun. I see him as having hazel eyes. A colour you'd think would be warm and inviting, but on him they look like the eyes of a hawk. Dangerous and just a little sadistic.

Yandere! Riot Cop is... well, he's in his riot gear so I guess you'll never know. Strong as hell, that's for sure.

[shazzbaa]

AU Where He Said Yes aka Bittersweet Marriage AU

since i mentioned it in the tags of one of those character asks, I dug up some of the sketches from when I was pondering how it might have worked out, if Samuel had agreed to marry Poor Edward... He isn't in love with Edward, but Sam felt a lot of sympathy for this out-of-control whirlwind of self-destruction and wanted to... help him, somehow. If he went through with it, he'd treat it like a real marriage, he wouldn't marry again in the waking world, he would ease off of his dalliances with Peter and Jack because that's cheating on Edward now, and do his best to be faithful and present for his husband. It would, in truth, be a loveless duty of a marriage, but I don't think Samuel would regret this choice; the fact that he feels unsuited for a "normal" marriage would convince him that he's the right person to keep Edward company.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

TW: Bruises/Hickies, Church

AN: Surprise shawtyyy! I was fighting demons to keep a poker face up until this point lolol also normally, I'd have a follow up post for Tuesday if I post on a Monday - but next update will be later this week, as I'm at the point where I'm just straight up making poses for the whole thing lol. (trying not to, because it's time consuming).

Transcript under the cut

Malcolm: Are they done yet? This is boring!

Jonathan: You don’t get it.

Malcolm: Get what!

Jonathan: Mom and Dad. They’re in love and stuff.

Malcolm: Bleh!

Nancy: [whispers] I’m sorry.

Geoffrey: Hm? What for?

Nancy Narrates: [For betraying you]

Nancy Narrates: [For always wanting more when this should be enough]

Nancy Narrates: [You don’t deserve this..]

Nancy: [whispers] Nothing. Nevermind.

-

Jonathan: What happened? What’s wrong with Mom?

Geoffrey: She’s ok, she just needs to rest-

Malcolm: Is it cause she’s drunk?

Geoffrey: Malcolm- Ok, how about you two find a movie for us to watch for boy’s night and I’ll get Mommy ready for bed.

Geoffrey: Nance. I need you to sit up so I can get your night gown on.

Nancy: Mhm.. s’fine.

Geoffrey: [snorts] Alright, suit yourself. Don’t try and steal all the blankets when you get cold tonight.

Nancy: [whimpers] M’ gonna be better, Geoffrey. M’so sorry..

Geoffrey: There you go, apologizing again. You know it’s ok if you do steal them, right, silly? I run hot at night any...anyway-

-

Nancy Narrates: [I made a silent promise to my family that I’ll never stray away from them again. I would make it right, somehow]

Deacon: Today we gather to reflect on the sacred gift of family. God created humanity in His image. From the beginning, we see family is part of His design.

Deacon: It is within our families that we first encounter unconditional love that mirrors God’s own love for us all.

Priest: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Nancy: Amen. [softly] Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been- [exhales] a while since my last confession.

Priest: What is troubling you, my child?

Nancy: I’ve- fallen prey to my weakness for the same sex. I fear what I’ve done will ruin my family.

Priest: Have you struggled with this before?

Nancy: I’ve never really acted on it, until now.

Priest: How do you feel about what you’ve done?

Nancy: Guilt. Shame. Disgust.

Priest: My daughter, these emotions are a sign of your conscience at work. You have acted against your own values. You know these unnatural ways is not in accordance to God’s design. For your penance, I want you to spend time in prayer and consider the harm you’ve caused for yourself and for your soul.

-

Judith: Oh, brother. He said that?

Nancy: It’s nothing I’ve never heard before, growing up in the church and all.

Judith: You know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?

Nancy: [scoffs] I cheated on my husband! That’s unforgivable, in any situation. If Geoffrey ever found out, he’d leave me. The boys would have to suffer through a divorce- a broken family. The media would eat us alive. And my mother, God, if she knew-

Judith: Oh, I am so sick of hearing about that old broad!

Nancy: I just need to put it behind me. Move on. I got it out of my system, so I have no reason to speak to Lily ever again. I’ll never think about another woman. I’ll be good. Normal.

Judith: What the hell is normal, anyway? If you’re abnormal, than so am I.

Nancy: [sighs] You’re not married or a mother.

Judith: Have you even allowed yourself a moment to revel in this?

Nancy: Why would I?

Judith: Because you finally gave yourself something you wanted. Put the shame and all those nasty feelings aside for a second and tell me about it.

Nancy: [groans] God, it felt so good. The sex yes, but there was something about her obeying everything I said that thrilled me. If I close my eyes now, I can still feel her teeth in my skin, her gasps when I squeezed her throat.

Judith: There.

Nancy: What? There what?

Judith: The real you. You pack her away so much that when you finally allow her to show, she shines.

Nancy: She frightens me..

Judith: Good! She’s a real bitch, and she’s ready for her debut! I want to see you at your brightest, darling. It’s when you’re the happiest.

Nancy: I don’t know if happiness was in the cards I was dealt.

Judith: I believe it is. And when it comes, bask in it, darling.

-

Jonathan: Move, Malcolm! I have the phone!

Malcolm: NO! Let me talk to mommy!

Nancy: Quit bickering, you two. Jonathan, let your brother speak too, please.

Malcolm: YEAH!

Jonathan: [groans] Fine! Mom, are you almost home? Will you be late again?

Nancy: I’ve just wrapped up my last client and I’ll be on my way.

Malcolm: Then we can look for a Christmas tree?!

Nancy: We sure can, my love. I’ll see you both very, very soon.

Jonathan: Promise?

Nancy: I promise. I love you both so much.

Assistant: Mrs. Landgraab, you have a guest asking for you in the lobby.

Nancy: [scoffs] You’re joking? No, no I can’t. Have them book an appointment. I’m leaving for the evening.

Assistant: I suggested that, but they refused to leave and insisted on seeing you.

Nancy: Oh, fucking hell.. fine. Page my driver to wait for me out front anyway. I’ll make this quick.

Nancy: [breathlessly] Vanessa.

Vanessa: Hello Nancy.

[hgfictionwriter]

Mine

Summary: Jessie knows you love her. She knows you're well satisfied. But there are still times she likes to remind you that you're hers.

Warnings: G!p smut. Possessive/jealous sex. Condom breaking. Risky/unprotected sex. Semi-public sex. Language.

A/N: Please take the G!P (girl penis) warning seriously. If that kind of content is not for you, please don’t read. Beyond that, I was loving the idea of little, quiet Jessie being the one reader chooses over more traditional 'big, tall and sexy' types and some of the cocky, possessiveness that might come along with that!

Jessie wasn't boisterous. She didn't seek being the center of attention. Her charm wasn't in being loud or exuberant. And she was fine with that - happy with it, even. That hadn’t always been the case. She used to feel like she needed to be louder, more brash, but not anymore.

Being the way she was had gotten her far in many aspects of her life. And in particular, for the past year and a bit, she was the one who held your attention and you called your girlfriend.

While Jessie was fun and open when it was just you two or with close friends, overall she was reserved. Especially in big groups, such as tonight at one of your work engagements. This type being the worst - stuffy, formal gala-type events.

Jessie spent most of the evening quietly observing. Standing on the periphery as you mingled and did your thing. You never left for too long, coming back to check in on her or pull her into a group discussion; smiling affectionately and resting a hand on her arm, chest or waist in a way that warmed her no matter how she was feeling in the moment.

As much as she didn't like these obligations, she was willing for you and you did your best to make them as bearable as possible. Besides, it was only fair since you had to come to her affairs as well.

One thing had been grating on Jessie though. Your coworker Deacon.

He was one of those alpha, sickly charming types. She'd heard stories about him through you and your work friends and already didn't like him, though everyone else seemed to. Then she met him, him towering over her and giving her a handshake that was embarrassingly hard and long when they met for the first time. Jessie actually cocked an eyebrow at him over it.

What irked Jessie the most though was his thinly veiled interest in you. Worst part was, you hardly seemed to mind.

"Deac? He's harmless," you'd say.

Deac. Jessie glowered at the recollection.

She knew you loved her. You made no secret of that. But you were her girlfriend. Hearing about his - from Jessie's perspective - unabashed flirtations was getting increasingly difficult to tolerate. It was to the point now whenever he came up she practically bristled.

She'd never made much of a fuss about him before. He was your coworker, you were stuck with him and as long as you weren't feeling threatened or uncomfortable, she didn't want to create unnecessary complications or tension for you.

But tonight, as he leaned in to laugh at your witty conversation, his eyes all over you and a hand on your arm as he offered to get you a refill, her patience wore thin.

A silent, seething breath escaped Jessie as he stepped away to get you a drink.

"I'm right here, you know," Jessie said, a slight edge creeping into her voice. "I could've gotten you a drink." You turned, giving her a perplexed look.

"What? He was getting his own drink and just offered. You have a full drink, why would you go to the bar?"

Jessie averted her gaze with a huff and disbelieving smile on her face.

"You really don't see it?" Jessie asked flatly as she met your inquiring gaze. You made a face at her and she held back a scoff. "He's hitting on you. All the time."

"Jess," your voice imploring right away. "You're still on that? There's nothing. He's just friendly and he's like that with everyone. Noah in accounting? Now he's a creep. Deac is just a big teddy bear."

Now Jessie really did scoff. "Wow. Friendly. A teddy bear. Sure," she said dryly. "And no, he's not like that with everyone. Believe me." You rolled your eyes.

"I disagree," you returned as you folded your arms against your chest. You cocked your head at her, giving her a pointed look. "You know, Sam, or Teagan," you voice rising in emphasis, "aren't all that different from Deac. And you don't have a problem with them."

"They are not anything like him," Jessie replied, getting fired up. You sighed, but your demeanour softened once more.

"All I mean is they're all just very outgoing, good natured, sometimes borderline flirtatious types. That's just how they are with people. It doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"Oh, he absolutely means something when he flirts with you," Jessie replied without skipping a beat. You let out another brief sigh of exasperation.

"Jessie," you said as you held your hands together in emphasis, "I need you to trust me. There is nothing going on and nothing to worry about. I am very much in love with you and not interested in anyone else. Deacon included. And - if it makes a difference - even if, if, he liked me, it wouldn't matter to me."

"I do trust you," she said, her voice softer this time.

"But you don't trust him. Am I right?" You asked, a slight smirk tugging at your lips as you arched an eyebrow. "You don't need to be insecure, Jess. He could never sway me."

"I'm not insecure," Jessie told you, frown deepening. It was true. She wasn't worried you'd leave her. She knew you loved each other, and she knew you were - how should she put it - well satisfied. It was really more that she didn't like someone eyeing up what was hers. The feeling spurred a heavy pit in her stomach. She shouldn't think that way.

You weren't an object to her. Far from it. But she'd won your love and she loved and adored you. It was you and her, and even the thought of someone else picturing themselves with you left her less than pleased.

"You seem pretty jealous to me," you said, more in amusement than anything. Jessie felt a small wave of relief go through her at the hint of levity in your discussion.

"Maybe possessive is the better word," Jessie confessed in a hushed tone, averting her gaze before meeting yours again. She waited as you seemed to study her a moment.

"Is there a difference?" You inquired with seemingly genuine curiosity.

The corner of Jessie's mouth quirked up into a smirk as she took a step towards you, voice low.

"Jealous, to me, means I'm worried you're going to leave. Or I'm envious of anything to do with you and Deac. I'm not - it's my bed you're in at night," she finished closing the space between you, her eyes lingering on yours before she leaned into your ear to whisper, "my fingers, my cock, inside of you. It's me who makes your legs shake, who pleases you until you can barely string a sentence together." She softened slightly. "And it's me who gets to make you breakfast in the morning and kiss you goodbye on your way to work. And it's my hand you hold when you walk down the street."

She pulled back again enough to see you, satisfied with the light flush of your cheeks and the way your eyes followed her every move.

"Possessive though," she went on, pausing for a beat. She'd never expressed this to you and she should probably keep it to herself, but she couldn't will herself to stop. "Means that you're mine. And I don't appreciate someone else eyeing you up and trying to take you away, even if I know you don't intend to leave."

Jessie watched you carefully, spying the way you visibly swallowed and how your cheeks grew a shade darker. Most telling though, was the look in your eye.

"I'm yours, am I?" You finally asked, trying to hold a hint of defiance in your tone, but Jessie wasn't fooled.

She simply nodded. "Mhmm. And if you didn't know that, then I'm not doing a good enough job of showing you."

You touched the back of your neck while you smiled at her as your cheeks reddened further. Your smile shifted from coy to teasing.

"Yeah? Maybe I'm not entirely convinced."

Something churned deep inside of Jessie at your challenge. She narrowed her eyes at you as a salacious grin tugged at her lips.

"Baby girl," she warned gently with a slight tilt of her head, "that's a dangerous thing to say to me."

You gave her a cheeky smirk, tilting your head in the same manner. "I guess we'll see." You turned your head, gesturing away. "I'm going to the washroom. I'll see you later?"

Jessie studied you, gauging if you were truly offering what she thought you were. You gave her a wink as you walked away.

She smiled further as she appreciated your form as you retreated into the crowd. And you, of course, knew she'd devour you with her eyes.

She waited a few seconds before she casually started navigating through the crowd, her eyes not leaving you as she followed. A short while later she was rounding the corner to the hall of private bathrooms and caught your eye as you stepped into one of the rooms.

Jessie mused that was one perk of a showy party like this.

A few moments later Jessie was letting herself in and locking the door behind her. The bathroom was gaudy; marble floors and walls, adorned with gold trim and matte black fixtures. But her attention was fully transfixed on you.

Her eyes dragged up and down your body. You didn’t often wear dresses and heels, so this was a treat for her. You looked stunning, standing there with your hands clasped behind your back.

“And what exactly are you doing here?” You asked with a playful look. Jessie cocked a smirk for you.

“Making sure my girlfriend knows fully well that she’s mine and no one else’s. That even if some charming guy hits on her, she knows she belongs to me,” she replied easily, not breaking your gaze as she closed the space between you and placed her hands on your waist.

"I probably shouldn't find that so sexy,” you said, just a hint of breathlessness in your voice as you gave her a small smile.

Jessie didn’t miss a beat. She picked you up and set you down on the counter, your legs immediately wrapping around her waist. She smirked further.

"You probably shouldn't be at your work party with your legs spread looking to get railed by your girlfriend either," she said as she nipped at your neck.

"Oh fuck," you moaned, louder than intended. Your gaze darted to the bathroom door before returning to Jessie who chuckled. You gave a haughty tilt of your head in response.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" You reached down, cupping her and discovering a pronounced bulge underneath her dress pants. You moaned in appreciation as you began rubbing her.

"Mm," Jessie said as her shoulders rolled back at your touch. "Feel how hard I am for you, baby?" A wave shot through her at how your eyes fell shut at the comment and you opened them to give her a hungry look.

You continued to stroke her through her pants, your fingers making a point of teasing her head. "This is the only cock I want."

Jessie's chest rumbled and she dug her fingers into your thighs. "It better be," she said as she rocked her hips into your hand.

"It is," you affirmed softly as you held her gaze. "But why don't you remind me why it should be?"

"Jesus," Jessie relayed with a growing grin. She glanced back over her shoulder to double-check the door was locked before she dipped her head down and began kissing your neck once more.

Her hand worked its way under your dress and up your thigh before reaching your underwear. She gently tugged them aside and experimentally dipped two fingers along your slit. Her cock twitched under your hand and she audibly gasped, her knees nearly buckling, at how wet you were.

"God," Jessie grunt out. "The way you are absolutely dripping wet right now, you clearly love the idea of being mine." You whimpered in response, your hips bucking up and begging for more contact.

"Patience, baby. I'll have you cumming on my cock soon enough," she teased as she hooked her fingers into your panties and pulled them down your legs. She smiled at you with a wink as she tucked them into her pocket. She beamed internally at how your jaw fell at the gesture.

Your hand moved up from her bulge to start undoing her pants. Jessie watched your face the entire time in adoration until you started to push her pants down past her hips and she helped you, dropping them to the floor. You tugged at her boxer briefs right away and she chuckled as she shimmied them down as well, her cock springing up immediately.

She smirked at the way you bit your lip and silently writhed on the counter staring down at her length that stood at full attention for you. She dipped her fingers into you once more so they were coated in your juices and she pumped her cock up and down a few times with your arousal.

"God," you said as you leaned back against the mirror, watching her eagerly.

Jessie wiped her hand quickly before she grabbed the bottom of your dress and helped you move it up your body. She massaged your thighs and the juncture at your hips as she stared at your pussy, admiring and appreciating it.

"Fuck, I love you," Jessie breathed as she looked back up at you.

"I love you, too," you told her as you leaned forward and grasped her in your hand, pulling her hips towards your core and started jerking her up and down. She exhaled as a grin formed on her face.

"Hold on, baby," she chuckled as she reached into your purse and retrieved a condom. She eyed you as she held it up to her mouth and tore off the corner of the package. She'd barely opened it when you reached up and snatched it out of the wrapper and began sensually rolling it onto her, jerking her once more.

Jessie exhaled heavily as you teased her, but soon enough it was on and she held her firm cock at your sopping entrance. Your fingers dug into the back of her neck in anticipation as she slowly pushed herself inside of you, loving the way you gasped as she patiently stretched you out.

"Fuck, I love this pussy," she told you as you held her in a vice grip, Jessie blinking several times over as she struggled to come down from the initial rush of having your hot, wet tunnel surrounding her.

"You remember that," you teased as you rocked her hips into her.

Knowing you didn't have a ton of time, Jessie didn't draw things out like she normally would. Soon, she was thrusting into you, her hips slapping against your ass, your back against the mirror and your body shifting up and down it with every stroke. You felt fucking amazing.

She wrapped one arm around your back to pull you closer while the other held up one of your legs. She adored the way you panted and whimpered in her ear.

At one point, Jessie leaned back, wanting to change the angle and she glanced down to catch a glimpse of her cock pumping into you. She stopped mid-stroke.

"Uh," she said, eyes fixed on your lips stretched around her bare cock, just the ring of the condom at the base of her, "the condom broke."

"What?" You asked, shifting forward and glancing down.

"Fuck," Jessie breathed. "Do we have another?"

You didn't. Jessie let out a low grumble as she rest her head against yours, her aching cock sitting idle within the fluttering walls of your heat as you two contemplated what to do. She did her best to stay still.

"I'll eat you out. I'll finish myself off, and then we either just go back to the party, or," she gave a nonchalant shrug, "I take you home and fuck you through the mattress."

She expected you to laugh, but you didn't. Your eyes remained fixed on hers, your expression even and then you started to shift your hips against her. Jessie groaned.

"If I'm yours - like you say I am - then," you paused for a second before you rocked yourself more prominently against her, "you should get to be inside me. Properly."

Jessie frowned at you, doing her best to ignore the jolts of pleasure you were sending through her with every movement. Her mind was clouded over with pleasure. She looked at the counter idly before up at you again. "And what, just pull out?"

"Yeah," you said, as you laced your fingers behind her neck and pulled her in for a heated kiss.

Jessie started slowly pumping into you again without even realizing it. This newfound discovery had Jessie buzzing. Her fingers dug into you and soon she was pumping into you with full, firm strokes that had you whimpering even more so than before. Seemed you liked it, too.

"Shit, Jess. This is so hot," you whispered as you clawed at her, pulling her ever closer.

Jessie merely grunted as she thrust her hips into you. She couldn't discern right now if it was a true physical difference or just the thought of it all that was sending her to new heights, and honestly, she didn't care.

"Oh fuck," she gasped a short while later. "I'm gonna cum, babe."

"Don't stop, Jess. I'm almost there," you pleaded.

"Oh shit," Jessie winced as she tried to fend off her climax, but the way you were flexing around her was making it near impossible. Her jaw clenched tightly as she tried to hold back.

The aching between her legs was almost painful by the time you sunk your teeth into her shoulder, a muffled cry falling from your lips as you began to convulse around her. It set Jessie off.

She pulled out as quickly as she could, jets of cum shooting out of her cock as she withdrew, strings landing on your slit and others onto your stomach as she moved to hold herself above you.

"Shit," Jessie grunted still in the aftermath of her orgasm, her cock no longer pulsing in her hand. "I-I don't think I pulled out in time."

Her heart raced as she braved a look at you. She watched you apprehensively as you stared back at her, expression unreadable. You held her gaze as you reached down and began to stroke her, surprising Jessie.

"Guess now I really am yours," you said softly as your fingers wrapped more fully around her, slowly pumping up and down and coaxing her again. You grabbed her by the tie and pulled her in for a kiss. "I'd say the damage is done. No point in pulling out again tonight."

Jessie's jaw shuddered with a gasp, an indescribable feeling washing over her entire body. Her cock didn't even have time to soften, now fully hard already under your warm touch.

"Ready to go again?" You asked, locking eyes with her. She didn't even reply, she grasped the hand you had wrapped around her and lifted it to her mouth, giving you a soft kiss before she grabbed her cock and ran her length along your slit, making sure to tease your clit. She grinned at how your gripped the edge of the counter in response.

Soon, Jessie was inside you - entirely bare and raw - seemingly a drug of some kind, as you fucked with even more intensity this time around.

"We've been talking all night about how I'm yours. But I think you're mine," you taunted in her ear. "This cock is mine - the way my pussy had you cumming before you could pull out. The way you were straining for me just moments later. I'd say your cock - and you - belong to me."

A shiver went through Jessie's entire body. Her head felt dizzy with lust as she pumped abandonly into you.

"My cock belongs in this pussy. Nowhere else," she declared, voice shuddering as she locked eyes with yours to see you watching her intensely. Jessie's shoulders rounded out as she pulled you closer. "And my cum belongs in this pussy, too." Her eyes slammed shut as you flexed around her with an impish stare.

"That's right baby," you said soothingly as you caressed her cheek. Sweat beaded down her face and her feverishness continued to grow as she growled into you.

"You're going to walk out of here with my cum so deep inside of you and dripping down your legs. Deac is going to wonder why you're flushed, if your hair was this disheveled all night, he's going to smile at you not knowing that I claimed this fucking pussy just minutes before. That we wanted each other so bad we couldn't even make it home to fuck - I had to take you right here."

Your head fell back, eyes closed as strangled cries fell from your lips as you tried to muffle them. She watched, intoxicated by every nuance of your reactions.

"God, baby, I'm so close," you panted as you absently scratched at Jessie's back, your fingers digging into her shirt.

"Where do you want it?" Jessie asked, teasing, but also wanting to be sure.

"In me, in me," you chanted with no hesitation. You opened your eyes to meet her piercing stare. "I want you to fill me."

Jessie grunted as her gaze fell to see her cock pumping in and out of you, white bands of cum coating her. She adored the way your lips hugged her tightly as she stretched out you.

She kept her thrusts and circling of your clit steady as she fought to send you over the edge before her. Small huffs of exertion escaped her mouth as she watched you writhe and whimper until your body stiffened. You began to pulse around her and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as your climax took you.

She gripped your hips tightly and let the intensity that pulled incessantly at her finally overtake her. She held a laboured grunt in her throat as she pulled you flush against her and bottomed out as she spilled herself inside of you. She moaned deep in her throat several more times as she held your hips fixed against her while she rut primally into you.

In time, Jessie pulled out, kneeling before you in exhaustion. Her eyes immediately landed on your core, her cum starting to weep out of you.

She watched in awe, bringing her hands to your thighs, you obliging as she gently pushed your legs apart and watched it begin to seep and drip down you. She held back the urge to dive in, licking it up and having you cum on her tongue. Instead, she reached in and pushed the cum back into you with her thumb.

She looked up to you with a wicked smile. "I don't want it dripping out of you just yet."

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tour of Dreams

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!wife!teacher!reader

Summary: Your class takes a special field trip to SWAT HQ and your husband Deacon makes the tour especially memorable.

Warnings: Hondo, fluff

Word Count: 1.4k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

In the early morning peace of your classroom, you erase the large purple 2 on your whiteboard and replace it with a 1. Your class has been learning about the government recently. Because of the shared success in naming the three branches on the most recent quiz, you reward them with a small field trip. LAPD SWAT was more than happy to host your class and give them a tour of their headquarters.

You smile as you sort through your notes for the day. The kids will undoubtedly be excited about tomorrow’s trip, but there are a few things you need to get done today. Your phone buzzes with an incoming message, and your smile brightens when you see who it’s from. Rather than answering, you press your husband’s contact to call him.

“Good morning,” Deacon greets when he answers. “Were you going to tell me about tomorrow’s field trip?”

“I was going to, but you’ve been really busy. I talked to Hicks and he said it was okay,” you reply softly.

“Oh, of course it is,” Deacon insists. “I was just calling to ask if you need a tour guide.”

“Really?” you ask, thrilled by the idea. “You would do that?”

“Absolutely. They’re good kids, and… well, to tell you the truth, I’m in love with their teacher.”

“I- we would love to have you with us,” you answer. “And their teacher loves you too.”

Deacon sighs and murmurs, “That’s a relief.”

You laugh at his response, then ask, “Do I need to change anything? I made the plans with Hicks and don’t want to put you out.”

“He went over it with me, everything’s good. We’ll see you tomorrow, same time, same place.”

“Okay, awesome. Thank you, David.”

“Of course. I thought you were doing a pizza party for them.”

“I let them pick between a local field trip to visit one of the government branches or a pizza party. They chose the executive branch.”

“You’re a good teacher.”

“You’re a good sergeant.”

“Hey, I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thank you. Be safe today.”

“Always. I love you.”

“I love you.”

You end the call and return to the board. After surrounding the trip countdown with hand-drawn confetti, you begin readying the classroom for your students.

“Alright, what are we going to be?” you ask your students in SWAT’s parking lot.

“Respectful,” they answer together.

You smile and nod, then ensure everyone stands with their assigned buddy.

“Good morning!” Deacon calls as he exits the station.

“Good morning!” your students reply.

“I am SWAT Sergeant Kay, but you can call me Deacon,” he introduces himself. “I heard you’re here to see the executive branch in action?”

Your students nod excitedly, and Deacon sends you a smile. The gate behind you lifts, and a grey Charger pulls in.

“Mrs. Kay!” Hondo yells as he exits the driver’s side. “And Mrs. Kay’s class!”

“This is my team leader, Sergeant Harrelson,” Deacon tells the kids. “We work together with a few other officers to go into dangerous places and help people.”

“Hicks didn’t tell us it was your class,” Hondo whispers as he stops beside you.

“I don’t know how Deacon found out,” you reply quietly. “I was trying not to bother you guys.”

Hondo drops his smile and raises a brow. “I know you did not just say that.”

“It’s Friday,” you remind him, tapping him with your elbow. “Leading a field trip probably isn’t the ideal way to end the week.”

“As opposed to what? Getting shot at?”

“Mrs. Kay?” one of the students closest to you calls.

“Yes, Remy?” you reply, stepping toward her.

“Why doesn’t SWAT use regular police cars?”

“That is a great question,” you say. “Let’s ask Sergeant Kay.”

Deacon smiles as Remy raises her hand, then asks, “Yes?”

“Hi,” Remy begins softly. “I just wanted to ask why you don’t use regular police cars.”

“Excellent question,” Deacon responds. “Because we go into dangerous situations, we have to use cars and trucks that can help protect us. And, sometimes, we don’t want people to know that we are the police because it might make them scared or angry. We have to protect the people around us.”

“Thank you,” Remy says.

“Of course. Are there any other questions before we go inside?”

Hondo raises his hand, and Deacon looks straight past him. He drops his hand and turns to you with a pout.

“Yes?” you inquire as you follow your class into the building.

“Are you coming to family dinner tomorrow?”

“Have I ever missed?”

“Yes.”

“The first week after we met doesn’t count.”

“Ask Luca if it counts.”

“This is our training area,” Deacon says as you shake your head. “SWAT officers have to be ready to run, lift things, and help people at any moment. So, we work out and help each other prepare for our job.”

“How much weight can you lift?” a student asks.

“Yeah, Mrs. Kay, how much weight can he lift?” someone repeats beside you.

You smile as you look at Street. “More than you.”

“Ow.”

“We’re not going to warn you again, kid,” Hondo tells him. “Don’t start with her.”

“Hey!” Luca greets you, wrapping you in a quick hug. “I heard you were bringing the class by today.”

“Next,” Deacon continues. “We’re going to see the situation room. That’s where we find out what we’re doing, who we’re looking for, and it gives us a chance to talk about the day.”

Kelsie, one of your quieter students, raises her hands. Deacon points at her and offers a kind smile, so she asks, “Is it like our bell work?”

Your husband looks at you, and you say, “Yeah, Kelsie! That’s a really cool connection. During bell time, we talk about what we're doing that day and make sure everyone has what they need for the day.”

“Exactly what we do in the situation room,” Hondo adds.

Hondo, Street, and Luca excuse themselves, and you join the front of your group. The parent chaperones keep everyone in order as you join Deacon’s side to answer a few more questions. The tour is better than expected, and you have your husband to thank.

As you return to the training area and Deacon finishes the tour, you prepare to lead your students back to the bus.

“There’s one more thing that is important and necessary in SWAT operations,” Deacon says. “Would you like to see it?”

Your class cheers before they remember your instructions to respect the people working and quiets quickly. They nod, excited, as Deacon leads them toward the door.

“What’s up, everybody?” Luca calls. “You’re about to see something that is very special to me. I’m Officer Luca, 20-David’s resident driver.”

“What do you drive?” several kids ask simultaneously.

Luca leads them around the corner and reveals, “This is Black Betty. She’s a type of APC, or armored personnel carrier. That means we can put our team in the back and drive into very dangerous places, but still be protected.”

“We take Black Betty almost everywhere we go,” Deacon adds.

“Whoa!” the kids exclaim as the lights come on.

Street exits the driver’s seat and opens the rear double doors.

“Who wants to stand inside and see what she looks like?” Luca asks.

All your students raise their hands, and you walk to Deacon’s side as they follow Luca in a single file line to take turns.

“Thank you,” you say.

“It was just a tour,” Deacon replies.

“No, it wasn’t. You made their year. I have no doubt a few of them will be telling me about their dream careers of being SWAT officers next week.”

“You’ve got a couple promising recruits.”

You smile and watch Street and Luca play with your students as they climb in and out of Black Betty.

“So, how much can you lift?” you tease.

“Enough,” Deacon replies.

“That’s exactly what she said,” Hondo interjects. “You know, I’ve always heard opposites attract, so if you ever-“

“I know where to find you, yes,” you interrupt. “Keep this up and I’ll tell Luca you uninvited me from family dinner.”

“Ooh!” Street yells. “Sorry, that was so loud. But, you deserved it, Hondo.”

“Can we turn on the sirens?” Remy asks Deacon.

He looks at Luca, who smiles and nods. You watch Deacon lift her into the driver’s seat and show her the switch to turn the sirens on with a smile.

“You made dinner,” Deacon says, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You turn in his hold and smile. “Well, after all the hard work you did today, it’s the least I could do.”

Deacon shakes his head before he kisses you. Being a tour guide has never been a duty he’s enjoyed, but with you and your class, he thinks he could do it daily and not get tired.

“Thank you again,” you say.

“Any time,” Deacon promises before pulling you closer.

[megalony]

You Big Wimp

It's been far too long, but here is a new Luca imagine from Swat. I hope you will all like it.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper

Swat masterlist

Summary: The team are more than surprised to find out that Luca, as big and tough as he is, has a phobia of needles. And how that has caused a few situations with him and his wife.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're gonna be okay for the tournament right? We don't have to start looking for a replacement do we?"

Twisting to the left, Luca glared across at Jim and flexed his right hand as if to make his point. He stretched his arm out in front of him and clenched his fingers into his palm to try and get his wrist back into working order and ignore the tension sparking all around the joint.

The team didn't have to worry about him. By the time the arm wrestling competition came around in three days, Luca would be all set and ready to win it for Swat.

They had been having an annual tournament all week with different activities and games and Swat was desperate to win considering how they had lost for the last two years in a row.

Arm wrestling was always the catergory that Luca got picked for, it was his speciality and even though Swat had lost for the last two years, Luca always won the arm wrestling matches. He hadn't lost those points for Swat yet and he wasn't planning on losing again this time. He would be fine for Friday, he wasn't about to let someone hustle in and take this win from him just because his wrist was playing up a little from an old injury.

"I don't see why you won't just go to the infirmary and get a shot. They can give you anti-inflammatory meds, something to take the tension away. It'll work better than painkillers."

Deacon shrugged his shoulders as he moved around to sit down at the kitchen table. It wasn't often that they all got time to sit around and eat rather than to grab something and eat on the go.

He couldn't see why Luca wouldn't just give in and go get an injection. It would take five minutes and it wouldn't hurt, it wasn't like having a biopsy. One small injection and Luca could be given meds to take away the discomfort and any swelling he might have and it would help him recover faster.

They had all seen the herbal remedies he had been trying to get one of the ladies he knew to make for him. And the paste he'd been putting on his arm and the physio were all in replacement of one little shot every day for a few days.

"I don't need it, Deak."

"You'd rather keep on with that weird physio-lady you get to help you?" Jim rose a brow while he sat down opposite Luca at the table and grabbed a fork to start eating.

With a deep sigh, Luca reclined back in his seat and moved both arms to lock them behind his head. He scratched at the back of his head and dragged his fingers through his short, spiked hair which flexed his muscles pushing out against his tight sleeves that were cutting into his upper biceps.

They weren't going to relent. Why couldn't they just see that he didn't need the damn injections?

His eyes narrowed and a frown formed in his tense features as he groaned and tilted his head back.

"Look, I- I don't do needles, okay?" His feet began to tap out an uneven rhythm against the tiled floor and he looked away from the team when he caught their confused expressions staring back at him.

"You've got a phobia of needles? Being shot at doesn't bother you, but a little needle does?"

It wasn't something he went around telling people, Luca wasn't exactly proud of his fear of needles. He didn't tell people that such a small, inconvenient little thing made his blood curdle like sour milk and made him sick to his stomach. He didn't tell them that needles were bad enough to make him blackout even with just the look of them coming close to his arm.

He hated them. He always had. And needles weren't the same as knives or bullets. Luca couldn't control someone shooting at him and if that ever happened, he wouldn't see the bullet hitting him, he would only feel it. Needles could visibly be seen slowly entering the body and he'd had bad experiences with jabs when he was a little kid. That instilled the fear into him.

He dropped his arms from behind his head to slump both forearms down on the table when the team tried to stiffle their laughter.

He watched Hondo lean over the table to grab his drink before he leaned against the back of Chris's chair. Hondo had a broad grin spread across his face and he rose a brow while his free hand moved to his hip.

"Luca you've literally been stabbed before." He wasn't trying to make fun, but Hondo couldn't make much sense of that.

Being afraid of a needle in comparison to a knife was strange. A knife was deadly, intent to harm. A needle was usually life saving and over within a few seconds with no lasting damage.

"I can't control it. I don't like stuff going in my body like that, it's freaky."

He had been stabbed in the middle of a fight. It had been unexpected and he didn't see the knife until it was too late and it slashed against his forearm right down to his elbow. That was different. That wasn't something entering his body almost towards the bone. That wasn't something that physically made him feel sick and queasy and turned his head to mush.

He huffed when he felt Chris nudge her elbow into his arm while she took a bite of her sandwich.

"Who'd of thought a big guy like you can't handle a little injection." Chris laid her head on Luca's shoulder and grinned up at him to show she was only joking around. They all had their fears, even if the only fear of Luca's they knew about was a tiny needle phobia.

"What about other people? Don't tell me you'd freak if you saw one of us getting our shots done." Jim was only joking and he stabbed his fork down into his food but when he looked up, his smile turned bewildered.

He watched the way Luca's expression fell and his eyes cast down to the cup of coffee he had been nursing for the last ten minutes. Jim leaned back in his seat and rolled his eyes as he let out a low chuckle.

"Seriously?"

"What, so if one of us went and had our shots in front of you, that would panic you?"

Deacon grinned and tilted his head to one side. He couldn't imagine going to the infirmary and getting an injection and having Luca panic or be sick if he were to witness that.

A sudden thought took over Deacon's mind as he wondered what Luca did about Amelia. He knew Luca's daughter was six. What did he do when she needed her immunisations when she was a toddler and she had to go to the doctor? Had he never had to take her to hospital and watch her get emergency shots or bloods done or injections when she was sick?

Deacon couldn't count the times he had seen each of his kids have their shots or had their bloods done when they had come over very ill and needed to go to the emergency room. It was baffling to him that Luca was an esteemed member of Swat but something as small as this set him back.

"I can't help it, man. Look, I took (Y/n) to the emergency room last year and they had to take bloods from her. That needle came out and I… fuck, I conked right out on the floor. They had to stand (Y/n) up and get me on the bed."

Luca hung his head down and took a sip of coffee at the memory that still plagued him when he thought about his one phobia.

He ground his jaw when he felt Chris trying her best not to laugh as she continued to lean her head on his arm. And the rest of the team looked over at him with raised brows and smiles lighting up their faces.

Jim shook his head and let out a chuckle. "No way."

"Your wife got injured and she had to give up the bed for you?" Hondo brought his mug to his lips to distort the smile he couldn't quite hide. He could imagine how embarrassing and worrying that situation would have been if they had gone in with (Y/n) being ill but ended up with Luca having a funny turn too.

"Hey, I got backlash for it, okay? Soon as I came round, she told me either get up or get out, and I haven't forgiven myself for it. I can't help it, I just see a needle and my brain shuts down."

It wasn't like Luca agreed with his body's reaction or like he planned it or did this on purpose. He couldn't help the way his brain reacted when he saw a needle, it was programmed into him to panic or shutdown whenever he came into close contact with a needle.

And he hadn't expected to faint like he did when (Y/n) wasn't well. He took her to the emergency room, he looked after her and held her hand and tried to calm her down. But as soon as the needle came into contact with (Y/n)'s elbow, Luca suddenly couldn't see anything and his ears started to ring.

It was like his mind was sure a needle was going to somehow harm his wife rather than help her. The experiences he'd had as a child were horrid and he'd suffered a lot of complications after some of his routine injections. And when he had been hospitalised, he was forever being poked and prodded with jabs and having bloods drawn.

It left Luca scarred for life and seeing (Y/n) or anyone else having needles jabbed into them made his mind go blank.

He had been shocked when he came around in the emergency room and found (Y/n) glaring down at him through tears, asking if he would kindly get up so she could sit back down. The nurses had been rather worried that a well-built, strong police officer had suddenly collapsed for no apparant reason.

It hadn't been one of Luca's finest moments.

***

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) lowered her head down into her hands and tightened her arms until her elbows were pinned into her sides. She wasn't sure if she felt like she was going to faint or be sick and neither option seemed appealing considering where she was at the moment.

She didn't bother to open her eyes when she felt a body sit down in the chair beside her. She knew who it was.

Luca's frame was etched into her mind and she knew every ridge, bump and muscle on his body. She felt the way his knee nudged into hers and when his palm pressed down on her lower back, she wanted to smile.

The feeling of his hand gliding over her back in smooth circles was comforting and his arm moulded around her as he leaned over until his chest was pressing down into her arm. His other hand curled around her knee and he attached his lips to the top of her head, curling around her like he was a safety blanket.

Luca always knew how to calm her down and make her feel better.

"How you feeling?" He murmured the words into her hair while he cast his eyes around the waiting room.

He had gone to the reception desk to sign (Y/n) in and he had been told that they wouldn't have to wait long. There were only a few other people in here and from what Luca could see, they weren't drastic or in dire need.

"Still hurts," (Y/n) mumbled and leaned herself to the right so she was tucked into Luca's chest a bit more. She felt how her words made his already hard chest tighten and tense up.

He hated to see her in any kind of pain, the same went for Amelia.

Lowering her head from her hands, (Y/n) switched to bind her arms around her middle and she flopped to the right until she could bury her face into Luca's thigh. She felt his arm curve over her back so his hand was beside her arm, resting on her stomach and his other hand took to carding through her hair as he slouched back in his chair.

Luca had been more than worried when he came home from shift this afternoon and found (Y/n) was burning a fever and starting to experience stomach cramps. That didn't bode well when she was almost three months pregnant so he'd asked his parents if they would look after Amelia so he could bring (Y/n) down to the emergency room.

He kept his hand on her waist, trying to smile when he felt (Y/n) curl her hand around his wrist while she kept her face meshed into his thigh. He felt each slow, drawn out breath she took to try and make herself feel better and calm down her system.

And he moved his other arm so his elbow was resting on the back of the chair and his hand started to rub across his jaw and the back of his neck. He slouched back a little and continued to look around the waiting room, trying to occupy his mind and distract himself from the worries going through his head.

Situations that he couldn't control never settled well with Luca. It was one of the reasons he was good at driving Black Betty down at Swat. It gave him control and something to focus on. When situations were out of his control, Luca didn't know what to do with himself and if they turned bad, he started to talk himself down and try to find things he could have done to make things better.

"(Y/n) Luca?"

(Y/n) wasn't sure she had the willpower to sit herself up when she heard her name being called, but she found it didn't matter. Luca leaned over her and his hands slid around to hold her chest so he could carefully reel her up off his lap.

His hands slithered down to hold her hips and once they were both stood up, he manoeuvred (Y/n) so she was in front of him and his arms were bolted around her waist to hold her up. They walked in tandem as (Y/n) leaned her cheek against his bare arm that felt freezing compared to her burning skin.

They followed the nurse through the double doors and down into one of the assessment cubicles.

When she motioned to the bed, Luca helped turn (Y/n) around and ease her down so she was sat on the side of the bed. Her legs swung back and forth, her feet just scraping the floor and she clung to the edge of the bed until her knuckles tensed to make sure she didn't sway and flop back on the bed.

"Okay, the notes say you're having stomach pains and a fever." When (Y/n) nodded, the doctor looked down at the form in her hands. "And how far along are you?"

"About eleven weeks, I think."

(Y/n) didn't look over at the doctor, she wasn't sure she could. And when she managed to look up at Luca, the pain and worry pooling in his eyes made her frown deepen. He had been so, so happy when she told him a few weeks ago that she was pregnant again. (Y/n) didn't want to lose their baby, she'd never gone through an experience like this before.

"If you sit back, I'll do a quick exam."

(Y/n) lifted her legs up so she was sitting on the bed properly and she leaned back against the pillow. But her hand immediately reached out for Luca. He tangled his fingers with hers and squeezed tight, smoothing his thumb across the back of her hand while he stood as close to the bed as he could manage. With his other arm bolted across the middle of his chest to try and contain the little composure he had left.

He watched intently as the doctor stood on the opposite side of the bed and lifted (Y/n)'s shirt. She pressed around (Y/n)'s stomach, clearly looking for any tender spots and Luca hoped it was a good sign that (Y/n) didn't flinch or cry out or gasp at any tender areas.

She said when he came home that it was cramps rather than a specific pain or crippling agony she had been feeling. Luca prayed that meant that maybe there was just a minor complication or hopefully that this was nothing to do with the baby and (Y/n) was just unwell.

The doctor then found a thermometer and placed it in (Y/n)'s ear, nodding as she confirmed the temperature and wrote it down on the chart.

"Have you been sick?"

(Y/n) glanced over at Luca before she meekly nodded, muttering 'a little' beneath her breath. She hadn't thrown up much, only once and it hadn't been substantial and she hadn't been sick since.

She felt Luca squeeze her hand and when she looked up at him, he arched a brow. She hadn't told him that.

"We'll need to take bloods, either this is a stomach infection or you could be experiencing a miscarriage."

(Y/n) held her breath and sank her teeth down into her lower lip to stop herself from bursting into tears. This might not be a miscarriage. She prayed it wasn't. They wanted another baby, they were just about to start telling their family and friends.

She tightened her hand around Luca's and moved her other hand to press down into the bed so she could sit up properly rather than recline back at an angle. She brought her knees up a bit and leaned her cheek against Luca's arm when he stood closer to her.

It was a comfort to feel Luca kissing the top of her head while he murmured "It's okay," into her hair.

Both their eyes set on the nurse after she snapped on a pair of gloves and wheeled a small metal trolley over to (Y/n)'s other side while the doctor moved out the way to jot down some more notes.

The nurse got a needle and vile ready before she picked up a blue strap and slid it just above (Y/n)'s elbow. The band felt like teeth cutting into (Y/n)'s right arm as it sank into her flesh to cut off her circulation.

She tried to hold her arm out straight and focused her sight on her knees rather than the needle. She had already been sick once and she didn't feel well, watching the bloods be taken might make (Y/n) feel drowsy and lightheaded. She kept her cheek pressed into Luca's arm that felt sturdy and tense beneath her touch and she took comfort in confiscating his arm and tapping her fingers against the back of his hand.

A wave of unease washed over Luca when he watched the nurse tap the clear plastic vile with a purple lid to make sure it was attached properly to the needle.

He didn't like needles.

Luca couldn't remember the last time he'd needed bloods to be taken from him and he wasn't sure he had ever witnessed (Y/n) having her bloods taken. The same went for Amelia, their five year old was in good enough health that she had never needed to go to hospital or have her bloods checked, she only needed routine appointments.

The sight of the needle made Luca swallow harshly and he couldn't help but grimace as he looked over at it.

His teeth punctured down into his bottom lip and he dug his fingers a bit too tightly into the back of (Y/n)'s hand while his other hand started tapping against his chest. He hadn't thought she would need to have bloods done when he brought her down here. This wasn't a sight Luca was used to seeing and it was making his stomach churn like a cement mixer.

He could feel bile rising at the back of his throat and his stomach started to jumble and twist as his head started to tingle like all his blood was rushing down to his toes.

The moment the needle sank into (Y/n)'s arm, something passed over Luca and bells tolled in his ears as spots danced in front of his eyes.

(Y/n) couldn't help the morphed sound that passed her lips when her left arm was suddenly yanked down. Her body jolted to the left and she almost toppled off the bed if the nurse hadn't of grabbed her shoulder to steady her and pull her back up on the bed.

She yanked her arm up until her fingers slipped out of Luca's sharp grasp and her eyes widened in horror when she watched her husband, that machine of a man, crumple to the floor.

She watched the way his legs curled oddly beneath him and he crashed onto his left side with his left arm caught between his chest and the floor. And his right arm flopped out on his hip like he was still trying to reach out for (Y/n); he had enough grip that he could have pulled her to the floor with him when he collapsed. His head lolled against the floor and his eyes closed and when (Y/n) looked at his chest, she noticed he was taking very light, shallow breaths.

"Luca." (Y/n) whined and dropped her head down and brought her left hand up to cradle her temple when the nurse slid the needle from her elbow with only one drop of blood in the vile.

(Y/n) knew Luca had a phobia of needles, but he'd never fainted like that before. And she didn't expect his phobia to extend to witnessing other people with needles. She thought it would have been a personal kind of thing.

"Oh dear." The nurse pulled the strap from (Y/n)'s arm, dropping it and the needle onto the tray as she hopped up from her stool to scurry to the other side of the bed.

The doctor frowned and followed the nurse, both women moving to kneel down beside Luca who looked like he was passed out drunk rather than having fainted from the sight of a needle. (Y/n) couldn't believe him. If she knew he didn't like witnessing other people with needles she would have told him to look away or even step out of the room.

Why did he watch if he didn't like them?

"Is your husband not well? If he's not he shouldn't really-" The doctor glanced up at (Y/n) who sighed defiantly and cut her off.

"He's not sick, he has a fear of needles." (Y/n) grimaced as she huffed the words and moved to wrap both arms around her waist.

This was a fine time Luca picked to pass out and need some assistance. He should have looked the other way or stepped out of the room, but then again, (Y/n) guessed he hadn't left because he wanted to stay with her and support her. But being passed out on the floor didn't count as much support for (Y/n) at the moment. He was inadvertently becoming a hindrance.

"Okay (Y/n), could we just get you to stand up for a moment so we can lay him down and get him sorted out?"

(Y/n)'s eyes looked between her husband and the doctor and she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed when she realised Luca wasn't about to wake up without some help. She found herself nodding even though she didn't quite agree.

They needed to sit Luca up and bring him back around, they could sit him in a chair rather than heave him about. He was a big guy, he was heavy, (Y/n) could barely take his weight if he ever leaned on her when he was drunk or feeling sick. They were going to struggle getting him from the floor onto the bed.

But she didn't argue. (Y/n) was in no fit state and no right mood to start arguing with the doctor.

"Seriously Luca."

She eased her legs over the side of the bed and stumbled onto unsteady feet. One arm stayed bound around her waist while the other reached out and pressed onto the equipment trolley beside the bed. She used it as leverage to keep herself upright, considering how her head was spinning and her system felt like it was about to breakdown.

Well if they wanted to get Luca up onto the bed, (Y/n) wasn't in any fit state to help them. She would let them do it themselves.

She stayed hunched over in the corner, trying to stop her vision from blurring and keep her eyes open properly to watch them get to work. She watched them check Luca's pulse and assure that he was breathing properly before they worked on easing him up in between them.

It looked like a struggle.

It seemed to take a lot of effort and (Y/n) rolled her lips together, grimacing when they finally managed to get Luca onto the bed. He seemed to take up the expanse of the bed like it was too small for someone as well-built as him. One leg bent out with his knee hanging off the side of the bed and his left arm flopped down over the edge of the bed as his head lolled to one side.

They hustled about, setting an oxygen monitor clip onto his index finger and checking his temperature too, just in case (Y/n) was lying and Luca was actually coming down with something rather than suffering a phobia.

(Y/n) sighed when Luca's head slowly started to loll to the other side and he seemed to start to come back around. At least he hadn't been out for long.

She shuffled over to stand beside the bed, one arm still encased around her throbbing middle while she curled her other hand around Luca's broad shoulder. Her head tilted to one side and she pursed her lips, waiting a little impatiently for her husband to wake up.

Her fingers danced out a rhythm against his shoulder, tapping every now and then while the doctor leaned over him and carefully pulled up one eyelid so she could flash a light across his pupil.

"Are you back with us, Mr Luca?"

Luca's head twisted to the left, trying to pull out of the doctor's touch. It was like instinct, he knew the hand on his left shoulder was a comforting one, a touch he was very familiar with. And he brushed his cheek against (Y/n)'s arm, nudging his nose against her skin as he tried to open his eyes and look up at his wife.

"Wh- oh crap," His right hand reached up to cradle his temple that was pounding like someone had bashed a hammer down on his head. He could feel the blood pulsing through each artery and vein in his head and the feeling made it seem like his head was swelling up like a balloon.

When he blinked a few times, his vision finally seemed to clear up and adjust to the bright lights in the room. He pushed his head back into the pillow so he could look up and confusion was clear on his face when he looked at (Y/n).

She still looked in pain, but she was hovering over him. That wasn't right. Why was she the one standing leaning over him like this?

He flexed his hands to stop them trembling and pressed his left hand down into the bed while his right hand curled around (Y/n)'s arm. He felt her hand move from his shoulder to press into the centre of his back and he could feel the doctor reaching out for him too. They both helped him sit up which seemed to overpower his head for a moment before he took three deep breaths and tried to restart his system.

Luca's eyes started to widen and his pupils began to dilate as he looked up at (Y/n) with something so innocent and child-like in his eyes that it made her stomach do summersaults. For a moment, the irritation she felt started to dwindle away because she knew Luca hadn't done it on purpose or planned for this. He couldn't help it, not fully.

"Either get up or get your own room, please." (Y/n) huffed through her words and sighed, lowering her head when she felt another wave of discomfort flood through her.

If Luca didn't feel great then he could flop down into the chair beside the bed or ask them to find him a room to get properly checked out, not that he really needed it. But he couldn't sit there for much longer when (Y/n) needed some pain relief and she needed her blood done as soon as possible to find out what was going on with her.

It was almost sweet how Luca seemed to recollect what was happening and his face fell as his jaw dropped open. He nodded profusely and stumbled onto wobbling legs. His knees locked into place to stop him from going down to the floor again and he moved his hands to (Y/n)'s waist so they could swap places and she could sit back down on the bed.

Luca didn't need any medical attention. He didn't need to be seen to or have a doctor check him over, he was here to get (Y/n) help and he didn't want to take that help and attention away from her.

He couldn't believe he'd just done that.

How embarrassing. He was a member of Swat. He was part of the police. Luca ran into situations with a gun and protective gear on to stop him from being shot at or stabbed or attacked. He went into dangerous situations and faced real harm and danger and none of that phased him, but the sight of a harmless needle going into his wife's arm set him off kilter.

"Sorry baby, sorry."

His lips attached to (Y/n)'s temple and he moved one hand to cradle the back of her neck, practically begging for her to understand and forgive him. He hadn't meant for that to happen. He had never fainted at the sight of a needle before, but then again, he wasn't in many situations where he had to witness people getting injections or shots or bloods taken like that.

(Y/n) briefly narrowed her eyes up at him but she managed a tender smile and moved her hand to squeeze his bicep.

"You big wimp." Her voice was flooded with affection and she leaned to kiss his arm. It never ceased to amaze her that Luca was a member of Swat, and yet he was so loveable and warm and soft and the kind of person people would expect to be working with children or in a relaxed environment.

When the nurse tried again to tie the band around (Y/n)'s arm, she looked between the couple and motioned to the needle and blood vile. She still had to get a blood sample from (Y/n) and send it down to the lab.

"Sit down and look away." (Y/n)'s words were more of an order and Luca found himself nodding his head rapidly.

He bent to kiss her cheek before he let his jelly legs give in and he flopped his weight down into the plastic chair beside the bed. He pulled it closer but made sure to tilt his head down. His fingers laced together, hanging his hands between his parted thighs and he hung his head down low until his neck started to ache. His eyes trained in on his work boots and he took deep breaths, making sure not to lift his head.

He wouldn't move an inch or look up until they told him the bloods were done and the needle was safely away from (Y/n)'s skin.

His thumbs brushed over the back of his hands and his foot began to tap against the floor, beating out a rhythm with the heel of his boot. At least he didn't feel like he was about to keel over again, he knew as long as he didn't look at another needle, and probably the blood that was being drawn, he would be okay.

A shiver tore down the back of his neck when he felt (Y/n)'s hand suddenly stroke the back of his neck and he felt her fingers scratching through the short hair at the back of his head.

"Are you good?" Her voice was quiet and her words caused Luca to lift his head in her direction.

The way he squinted up at her with that corny, lopsided grin made (Y/n) smile softly while he reached behind him to take her hand and lace their fingers together. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles.

"Apart from a bruised ego." Luca quipped back while the nurse smiled and disappeared from the room to send the blood sample down to the lab.

(Y/n) gave his hand a tight squeeze and pulled his arm so she could coil their hands to her chest. Her other hand moved to run up and down his arm and she watched him as he pushed up from the chair and moved to stand beside the bed. He could be closer to her now the threat of needles had been removed and there was nothing else that was going to make him feel queasy or nervous enough to pass out.

"Most guys faint at the birth, my fella faints at a needle."

The way (Y/n) shook her head and rolled her eyes had Luca's heart doing summersaults and he managed a small laugh as he leaned over and attached his lips to her temple.

What could he say, he was a different kind of guy.

[pali-and-proud]

My finals ended yesterday and I ended up sleeping for 11 hours. I can think again.

I want to take a moment to just talk about perspectives. How Buddy percieves Chase, how Chase percieves Buddy, and how Deacon percieves both.

Buddy's POV of Chase is so beautiful to me because Chase is just such an enigma to him. He's so quick to bicker and insult, and he routinely says the most ridiculous and outlandish things that Buddy can't even respond to, and then he turns around and is so selflessly caring and kind and considerate that it nearly always takes Buddy off-guard. Buddy knows the more about Chase than vice versa, and yet Buddy never seems able to expect what Chase is going to do.

I could be wrong, actually, but I think almost all of their conversations end with or include Buddy being confused by something Chase said, or something Chase did. And Chase is doing it all with a shirt, guys.

Chase's POV of Buddy is nearly the exact opposite. Chase knows NOTHING about Buddy, outside of phobias and fashionware, and Deacon's the one who has to remind him about that. Chase is good at reading people; we already knew that. Chase is GREAT at reading Buddy.

He's aware of Buddy's need for attention. He's aware of Buddy's barbs--knows when Buddy's being mean, and when Buddy's trying to be nice. He's aware that Buddy's situation is concerning enough to warrant outside help, and that Buddy won't ask for it. Buddy isn't really a mystery to him--the only real question is how to get Buddy to trust him. Which is insane, really, since we've seen in the current arc (vampire) that Buddy did genuinely trust Chase.

(I could go so far as to say the only part of Buddy that Chase doesn't easily/accurately understand is how CHASE fits into Buddy's life, but I will digress)

Deacon, though? Ohhhh, Deacon. Deacon's role is SO much more important than I think people give it credit for. Deacon is the only way we get a true outsider's glimpse into Chase (he tells us about Chase's money problems, he explains why Chase loves new stuff, he reminds us that Chase's dream to be a singer/dancer/idol isn't realistic and that Chase logically knows that, and he breaks down some of Chase's quirks.)

Deacon is also, uh, how we see Buddy respond to someone he doesn't have an embarrassingly obvious crush on. It's so easy to forget that Buddy is actively trying to treat Chase better until you see Buddy interact with Deacon for two seconds, in which Buddy's managed to be both smug and/or jealous. Yes I haven't forgotten that Buddy is jealous of Chase's cousin. Yes I do think thats the funniest reoccuring joke.

So Deacon having a really good view of both characters--where he can trust Chase's judgement while also being the logic that Chase sometimes forgoes AND can be cautious of Buddy due to past actions while also understanding that Buddy is more complicated than initial assumptions--it's important because it helps ground the characters.

And in direct contrast: Buddy's dislike of Deacon is completely rooted in his terrible understanding of Deacon's role to Chase. Buddy's first conversation with Deacon is him telling Deacon he should stop doing the stories because he's in over his head, despite Deacon having prepared more than Chase ever did. Buddy continues to yell and berate Deacon for his choice in book, despite Deacon actively choosing books he/Chase would enjoy, which is what you (according to Buddy, at least, and my inferences) should ideally do.

Chase's POV of Deacon is a bit more convoluted, and this post is already pretty long; I don't know if anyone's actually reading all this. He's just such a younger cousin; he doesn't idolize Deacon, but he does expect Deacon to have the answers. They're such older/younger brother coded. From the beginning, Chase has wanted to hang out with Deacon. It's almost tragic, honestly, that Deacon has such a high opinion of Chase that he never really shares, while Chase shows his high opinion of Deacon so often that a completely separate person was able to get jealous.

I took my psych final yesterday. Surely this is what my professors would want me to use my knowledge on.

[abraxo-official]

Companion rambles: could they operate a vehicle + other random assortment of headcannons

Curie:

Knows every single part of a car. Knows every driving safety rule. Do not let her near a vehicle. Her driving style is mad-max levels of fear. She will giggle and comment about how much fun she’s having, and how she wishes she did this sooner. Danger level: 9/10. You won’t die but you’ll never look at a corvega the same.

Cait:

In trying to hotwire it, will either blow it up or will turn it on for just enough time that the alarm goes off. If she did find a functioning one, it would probably end up in a ditch. Danger level: 7/10

Deacon:

He can drive, but in the same way that a elderly person would: you don’t know if he should be behind the wheel, but goddamn it if he’s not going to Tokyo drift into the last parking spot in front of the super-duper mart. Danger level: 5/10

Danse:

Why concern himself with pre-war ruins that aren’t even technologically interesting? He *technically* can fly vertibirds, but also…heights get to him sometimes. If he did have a car, he would dive super safe and basically act like a midwestern dad. Do NOT try and merge without signaling in front of him. Danger level: 2/10

Mac:

Really good at taking cars apart. Only knows about driving from comics. TBH I think he would be the type to only learn how to ride a bike at 10+ years old. He can’t even start the car. Danger level: 0/10

Hancock:

Would try to drive but would get either lost or just confused after about a half hour. Would probably try to add a bunch of stuff on top, like a missile launcher or a turret. It would be so decked out that it wouldn’t even be functional anymore. Would take joy in doing demolition derbies with Mac. Danger level: 3/10

Piper:

She knows how a car works, but like, only from reading 4 pages of a really old manual when she was board. She claims to defunct know how they work, but has no idea what to do when she lifts the hood. Either causes an explosion or ends up breaking at least one part. Never gets it moving. 6/10

Gage:

He can probably figure it out after about a day or two of trying to compare it to a coaster. When he does start it, I think he would actually hate driving. He’s the sole one in control, with his foot on the gas the whole time, and there is no way in hell he is ready for that. Would probably make up some excuse about how raiders don’t need to use cars to make their points. 2/10

Preston:

The safest driver in the world at first, but then he starts going after bigger things. Trucks would help with transporting supplies to settlements, he argues. If we had a garrison of tanks, imagine how many people we could protect, etc. He’s not wrong, and not bad at driving, but he really needs to stop adopting every bubble-top he comes across. 3/10

Nick:

Can drive. Will drive. Then will have to confront the reality of his muscle memory being from a person he never really was. He’ll still take a spin now and then, especially if going long distances, but he prefers to walk. It’s more….him. 1/10

Longfellow:

Cars, no. Boats? Hell yeah. He’s taught just about every sailor far harbor has. But try to get him to drive on land and he will straight out refuse. It’s not who he is. 0/10

Strong:

No. Car for throwing. Inside small, only for weak human. No need metal shell to go fast. 0/10

Dogmeat:

Sticks his head out the window. Can honk the horn. 0/10

Codsworth:

Listen, somewhere in his programming is knowing how to drive a car. Also how to assemble one from 4 cans and a high powered magnet. Can drive it either completely normal and safe or in a way that would make vin diesel scared. 7/10

X6:

Danger level: 10/10. He would succeed in the way Hancock could not. He turns it into a weapon. Stuff of nightmares. Avoid at all costs.

[amazinglyegg]

What the companions would make you if they had access to a kitchen:

Cait

I'm thinking a nice stir-fry or rice with a shit ton of vegetables and PROTEIN

Of course she loves her protein

Hmm or maybe a lasagna. Nice and dense.

Whatever she makes, there'll be enough of it to go around

She gives off food insecurity to me so I feel like she prefers to take her food and eat alone most days

But you WILL have a shitton of leftovers!

Codsworth

A nice breakfast spread like what you'd see in movies.

French toast, eggs (sunny side up or your preference if he knows it), bacon, several options of cereal in those little fancy cereal dispensers, pancakes or waffles depending on your preference, fresh fruit laid out...

And of course a glass of orange juice

He wants nothing more than for you (and anyone else you're sharing the meal with) to sit down and enjoy while he cleans the dishes and helps out

Just like old times <3

Curie

Baking time!!!!

Cookies are her go-to

Does that thing where you use your thumbprint to make a heart shape and fills it with jam

They come out perfect every time. She leaves them out on a plate and they're gone within a minute

Just be warned she might eat the cookie dough. Would definitely make edible cookie dough just to eat it raw at like 1am

Danse

He's a protein shake and plain hard boiled eggs type of guy

He wouldn't make you a meal, but would mealprep your entire week for you

(It's just plastic tupperware of boiled eggs and like, one whole carrot)

If he HAD to make an actual warm meal it'd probably look exactly like Brotherhood rations

Mashed potatos, plain crackers, and some vague meat in sauce

Deacon

This man lives like he will be killed via sniper if he ever expresses a genuine feeling

So as much as I'd like to say he'd make a meal that's really important to him, he'd probably just grab the nearest cookbook and pick a random recipe

Not even he knows what it's gonna be like until it's made

He also doesn't want to be associated with a certain meal so he'll only make it once or twice. If you want it again then YOU have to cook it!

If he's completely alone and just making something for himself, then maybe a nice sandwich or sub

I don't know why but he just gives off sandwich vibes

Dogmeat

Can't cook

He would, however, oversee the situation and taste test when needed

Gage

Grill dad

He'd make like, ribs and baked potatoes. Nice and filling and also pretty damn messy

Not too big on vegetable but he'd also grill like, corn on the cob or maybe some skewers

Chicken wings perhaps???

Maccready

Weird food combinations is this man's bread and butter (or bread and ketchup)

He WILL hand you a turkey sandwich with ketchup and potato chips in it. And it will taste good.

Or like, steak sushi. Spaghetti on pizza. Mayo dumplings?

He can make basically anything, but he just has some really weird preferences

If you can get over the strangeness it's actually pretty decent

Nick

Toast and black coffee <3

That's it

I mean like he'll make you tea or something if you don't like coffee

Pre-war Nick always had toast and coffee for breakfast in the morning so it's nostalgic to him

Old Longfellow

"Oh he'd make a fish based meal" NO. He lives next to the water he's probably SO DAMN TIRED OF FISH

Chicken noodle soup maybe, but like high quality chicken noodle soup with some nice spices

Or maybe a pot roast??

Piper

Weirdly enough, as much as she loves sweets I feel like she'd be a much better cook than a baker

She'd make a nice well rounded meal with protein, carbs, 1-2 vegetables. Gotta make sure Nat's eating well

Not huge on spices though. Like your mashed potatoes will be buttery and smooth as fuck but you're limited to like basic box gravy and maybe salt and pepper.

I feel like she can and will make an entire turky dinner. Just out of nowhere. There's like 7 different sides and an apple pie Curie made.

Preston

Oh this man will make a MEAN stew

It's his go-to. He can share it if needed, have leftovers to feed himself for multie days, and it's versatile

I'm thinking either radstag or brahmin meat, or maybe a bone stock, but in the past he's made stews out of basically anything, from bugs to deathclaw meat

He also has a soft spot for campfires and would love to roast marshmallows or cook hotdogs or something around a fire

X6-88

Grabs an apple for himself and leaves.

The Institute eats SUPPLEMENT PACKETS there is NO WAY this man knows how to cook

He's probably a picky eater too, and he only likes those packets

He's gonna be living off a diet of applesauce and ensure for a long while

Honestly he might enjoy taking his food (any food) and putting it in a blender. It fixes the sensory aspect of it.

[secretficblogs]

"First Date Jitters" Divorced David "Deacon" Kay x School Counselor! Reader

Summary: Your date with Deacon gets derailed but you still find a way to make the most of it.

What to expect: 4K words, Light mention of divorce, Canon warnings (hostage situation, robbery, light mention of gore/guns), drinking, descriptions of being cut, flirting, fluff, comfort

A/N: I blushed so hard when yall asked for a part 2, I didn't really proofread btw

You could feel the seconds ticking away as you sat at your meeting. Why did school counselors need to sit in on district meetings, anyway? You glanced at the clock on the wall, 4:47.  Your leg was bouncing underneath the table, a representation of your nervousness. It was your first date in god knows how long. You still needed to run home, change, and meet your date, but you were stuck with what could've been an email. You looked again, 4:48, oh my god.

“Would you be for or against this change, (Y/N)?” Your boss shook you from your thoughts, leaving you to look at the schedule change in front of you. 

“I-I think this looks… great. I don’t have any suggestions.” You slide the paper to the center of the table, glancing back up at the clock. 4:52. 

“Alright well, if that concludes things… I'll let you guys get going. Thanks for hanging back for a bit.” The staff began to stand and file out of the room. The English teacher, you knew her as Jane pulled you aside.

“So, spill! What are you so keen on leaving for?” She rubbed her hands together, leaving you to roll your eyes.

“I’m going out on a date.” You answered, throwing on your cardigan. Jane danced around you and let her noises of excitement draw attention to the two of you. 

“Alright, alright,” you laughed. “I don't even know if it will go anywhere. Just nice to get back out there, I guess.” You rubbed your arm, as you made your way out of the conference room. 

“I'm just so happy for you! It's about time. You have the best time tonight, okay? Stay safe, and call me if you need a lifeline!” She shouted your way as you both made your way towards your respective cars. You thanked her before closing your door.  You made quick work of the dinner rush and ran up the stairs to your apartment. Quickly locking yourself inside, you immediately started changing into the semi-formal dress you had set out last night. You glanced up at yourself in the mirror, deciding a touch-up would do you good. You grabbed out a darker lipstick, one you wouldn't wear to the school. You looked at your phone, 5:19. You rushed to get your heels on and grab your purse, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror. 

“Okay, (Y/N), let's get back in the game.” You ruffled your hair and made your way back down to your car. You peeled out of the parking garage. Your fingers tapped against the steering wheel praying for the light to change. The drive felt longer than it was, and the counselor in you told you to breathe before you left your car. 

David sat in his car rubbing his hands on his thighs, nervously. He recognized you in the car that pulled up across the parking lot. He watched you fix your hair in the rearview, and step out of your car to straighten your dress. David’s nerves were calmed once he noticed you were anxious too. He stepped out and made his way to the door, trying to pretend he hadn't noticed.

You walked towards the door and saw him waiting in the lobby. He met you with a smile and you immediately felt your knees weaken. Together you walked up to the host station and told the young girl the name of your reservation. She quickly led the two of you to your table and took your drink order. You both ordered wine and began making small talk about the restaurant you chose. 

“So did your interest in international food lead to your love for travel, or was it the other way around?” He asked, watching you take a sip of your drink.

“They are not mutually exclusive. My mom’s a professional chef, so I grew up trying all of her experiments. That's how I ended up in LA. She found better business here than Oregon.” You rambled. You couldn't tell where the feeling came from but you wanted him to know everything about you. 

“How old were you when you moved here?” David questioned. He seemed genuinely interested, which you liked. 

“I was 12. I wasn't too happy to leave the humidity. It took a while for my asthma to get somewhat used to the lack of moisture.” You folded your hands in your lap, smiling back at him. He nodded and you could see him commit the fact that you have asthma to memory. 

“How about you, did you grow up here?” You felt he was at an unfair advantage, knowing so much about you from your office.

“Yeah, born and raised.” He nodded.

“Nice, do you travel much?” 

“Not as much now, with the kids, but occasionally I'll find myself in neat places for work.” David felt his heart race a bit at the mention of his kids. He knew the entire reason they met was because of his kids,  but he knew many single parents’ kids scare partners off. 

That feeling quickly dissolved when he looked up from his glass to see your smile. He went to say something but your waitress came over. You both chuckled, realizing you hadn't looked over the menu much. Fortunately, you were both able to make a quick decision and get your food ordered. Your waitress refilled your glasses and left you to continue talking. 

“You said you had a meeting today, right? That go well?” He broke the silence. 

“Oh, yeah, it wasn't too bad. I really didn't need to be there. I was just excited to go home and get ready.” You looked away, shy to admit you were looking forward to your date.

“I’m glad. This is all I’ve talked about all day,” You looked up at him, shocked. “My team was so sick of me that they sent me home early.” David chuckled, leaving you to smile dumbfoundedly. 

“That makes me feel better, I wondered if you'd get bored tonight…” You sheepishly mutter.

“Why would you think that?” David's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“...Well, I don't have the most interesting life. I mean, you're a SWAT sergeant. I'm sure you get invitations for dates all the time.” You trailed off, taking a sip of your wine to stop your rambling. 

“I don't usually entertain that. I don't really enjoy being hit on. Most people just like the uniform anyway.” He tried to make you feel a bit better. “Also, you're insanely cool. I mean your office is decorated with so many interesting things. I gotta know more about that.” He folded his hands on the table.

“Well, ask away.” You grinned feeling warm from his words.

“The paintings on the walls didn't look like prints. Did you paint them?” David questioned. You began to answer, but your waitress brought out your dishes, set them down, and asked if you needed anything. You both ordered another drink and turned back to each other.

“The portraits are mine, but there are a couple of landscape paintings, sculptures, and trinkets that I got from friends and vendors.” You took a bite of your dish after speaking.

“Your paintings are amazing. Did you consider going into art before counseling?” 

“No, no. It's always just been something I did on my own time.” You gently shook your head. “There have been times where I've illustrated for friends and small startups, but not enough to go full time with it. Moreso just to help out small businesses.” You explained.

The two of you continued asking each other questions and eating in between. Time seemed to stop for the night. The only thing you and David were concerned about was each other. As the sunset turned into a dark sky, you sat across from David, captivated by him. You could tell he knew it, too. He would hold your eye contact for slightly longer than normal, and whenever your hands were on the table, he would make it his mission to rest his hand atop yours. 

The drinks didn't help either. Neither of you wanted to get drunk on your first date, but you definitely felt tipsy. The alcohol made both of you more brave, light touches turned to hand-holding, and your conversations became more personal. You both talked about your parents and how they felt about your jobs. You talked about your time as a therapist and he talked about some of his more significant cases. 

“I tried to be a therapist for the elderly because I thought it would be less pressure. David, I was so wrong.” You laughed, shaking your head. He chuckled as you recalled getting harassed by old men and women for 40 hours a week.

“Deacon.” He interjected.

“What was that?” You tilted your head to the side, confused.

“Call me Deacon. That’s what my team calls me.” He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Well, alright. Deacon.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks begin to hurt. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. You stared at each other, enjoying just being together. Your romantic staring contest was broken by your waitress dropping off your check. You reached for it, but Deacon was too quick.

“Deacon. Come on.” You reached your hand out, silently asking for the receipt. 

“No, no. I asked you out. And, I'm honored you accepted, despite not knowing me.” He nestled his card in the tin and set it aside, turning his attention back to you.

“I get the feeling you're not going to budge on this, so thank you.” You folded your arms across each other and set them down in front of you. 

“It was nice getting out, it's been a while since I did the whole ‘first date’ thing” Deacon allowed himself to be honest.

“I completely agree. It's more awkward than I remember.” You laughed. 

You and your date continued talking long after your drinks ran out. You felt so warm with him, and the wine didn't encourage you to leave him either. You continued flirting and getting to know each other before a commotion was heard a couple of tables behind you. You took your eyes off Deacon to turn around finding a group of people dressed in dark informal clothing. One of them held his hand underneath his jacket which made you whip your head back to Deacon. His once soft expression was replaced with a look of concern. 

“Um- Deac? I- Do you think somethings wrong?” Your hand made its way to the back of your neck in an attempt to rub away the rising tension. He didn't respond, looking down into his lap. You worked at a school, so it wasn't hard to tell he was texting someone. Your heart raced. It was obvious Deacon agreed that there was a problem.

You were going off sound alone, as the group of people were behind you. You managed to twist your head and spare a glance their way, only to find them talking very quietly with the now frightened host. Whatever they were telling her was scaring her shitless. You felt so bad for her, wondering what she was thinking.

With Deacon clearing his throat you looked back at him, and he gave you a forced smile. He rested his hand on the table, a silent request for you to grab it. You interlocked your fingers and squeezed, letting him know you were anxious.

“Be honest, how likely is it they're here for a table?” You met his eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation. You didn't need to though because he sighed and gave up on trying to hide his feelings from you.

“Unlikely. They look familiar, probably wanted for something. We can't do anything about it right now, so just relax. It'll be alright.” He soothed as he looked past you to see the host leave the group. The group of people looked around, one in particular made eye contact with a woman nearby. The older lady was decked out in diamonds and a fancy bag. The man must have been feeling bold because he walked up to her and held his jacket slightly ajar. Deacon couldn't see what he was concealing but it was pretty obvious it had to be a gun. 

The woman's face fell and the man she was with stood up clearly offended. Deacon's worst fears were confirmed when the man pulled out a gun and pistol-whipped the older man. Other patrons in the restaurant screamed and moved away from the man. You saw movement out of the corner of your eye and turned to see Deacon beside you. He pulled you around the table and pulled you down to the ground. He told you to stay there before turning back towards the commotion.

You peered around the table to find the woman was forced to take off her jewelry and pass over her bag. Deacon raised his gun and announced he was LAPD. You were shocked. He was outnumbered and you had no idea if anyone else carried. You turned your attention to the other group members. One ran out once the hostility started, and two others looked at each other in a mix of disbelief and anger. You took this as a sign this wasn't planned. It also seemed like the group wasn't willing to kill. The man aimed his pistol at Deacon but refrained from firing, resorting to yelling instead. This scared all of the now hostages but only made Deacon feel better. If talking meant not shooting, he was okay with it.

It was hard for you to make out what he was saying, but you could tell he was scared. He likely acted on impulse and was struggling to de-escalate the situation. It's unlikely they knew a cop would be there, especially since your name was on the reservation. A couple of people tried to weasel their way out of their booths and sneak away but that only made the man more upset. His audience was leaving. He aimed his pistol and the nearby chandelier and fired, leaving you to scramble from your hiding spot as glass debris fell around you and nicked at your skin.

 You tried not to think about the blood pooling on your arms and face and just focused on finding cover elsewhere. Deacon had to trust the best way he could help was by keeping his gun raised, and trying to talk the man down. The other guys noticed the situation getting progressively worse and tried pulling him back towards the door, but it only angered the man more. He whipped around to yell at them, giving Deacon an opening to run and tackle the man. 

You were shocked because there was no telling what the other guys would do. Fortunately, the man's accomplices took the lowered guns as a sign to run. Your eyes followed them through to windows as they ran across the street. They didn't get far before police cars cut them off, and they were forced to surrender. 

Hearing shouting, you looked back to your date pulling the man up from the ground, his hands held behind his back. The gun was kicked away, and before long people wearing SWAT uniforms arrived, putting handcuffs on the gunman, and taking him away. Deacon didn't waste any time running over to you and looking at your various cuts. 

“I'm so sorry, (Y/N).” He grabbed the black napkin from the table to press it against your forehead, making you wince. 

“Y-... You didn't shoot the chandelier,” You looked around at the chaos surrounding you. EMT’s loaded the old man onto the gurney. Patrons hugged and made their way to their tables, unsure of what happens next. “Everyone’s okay thanks to you. You called the police?” you asked as he held your hand over the napkin, a silent request for you to hold pressure. 

“I texted a coworker. They took care of getting a team here. I don't think they called the patrol cars though. Maybe the host called.” He looked over your other scrapes, gauging how much medical attention you needed. “I think some of these need stitches…” Deacon looked over to see the EMTs occupied with the elderly man, and some other people complaining of heart rates.

“I still think I’m too shaken up to drive-” You were interrupted.

“I'll take you.” Deacon placed his hands on top of yours.

“Okay.” You sheepishly responded. You let him pull you up and with a hand on the small of your back he led you to his car. Deacon was helping you into the passenger seat when an officer ran over.

“Deac! You okay, man?” The man rested his hand on the open door looking at the two of you.

“Yeah, Yeah. Thanks for coming so quickly, Hondo.” He nodded looking towards the restaurant and the guests funneling out. Another two teammates ran over to you, and the idea that you were meeting his squad set in. You felt yourself sink into the seat, as you looked at the ground.

“Hey! Is this your date?” One of the other teammates asked.

“Are you okay?” Another member asked.

When you hesitated to respond Deacon spoke up on your behalf. “Luca, I knew it was wrong to hope I’d get through this date without you crazies. This is (Y/N). She got cut up by the chandelier, so I was going to take her to the hospital to get patched up.”

“You know you gotta meet the squad family early! I’m Luca, this is Chris, and that is Hondo.” The man explained. You tried to nod along, but the shock and the blood loss made you dizzy. 

“Uhh, yeah yall need to get going. We can do introductions later.” Hondo said, taping his teammate's shoulders. You have him a smile, before waving at them. Deacon shut your door and jogged around to the other side. Once he was inside he sped off, quickly navigating the Friday night traffic.  You occasionally zoned out, putting gaps in your memory. Deacon tried to keep a hand on you at all times to help ground you. He helped you check in, and stayed by your side as you got stitched up. He stepped out a couple of times to take phone calls. He profusely apologized every time, even with you explaining it was okay.

The nurse finished with your bandages and instructed you to keep your injuries clean and dry. He left, giving you and Deacon time alone before you had to head out. You sat in silence for a while, his hand in yours. You felt yourself zoning out again, and Deacon must have noticed too because he spoke quietly, drawing you back to the present.

“How are you feeling?” He rubbed the back of your hand, a concerned expression on his face.

“... I'm hurting, but I’m alive. This is what you experience every day?” You kept your eyes on the floor.

“I usually have a lot more warning, and protection, but yeah. It can be hard to digest and process emotions when things like this happen. Your wounds are large enough to raise some concern for infection too. Don't think you can't reach out… okay?”

“Thank you, Deacon. Know that I'll take you up on that.” Your worries dissolved, finally being safe and patched up.

“Are you ready to head out? I can just take you home.” Deacon suggested.

“And leave my car at the restaurant? I don't have a way to get it back to my apartment.” 

“I'll pick you up to grab it tomorrow morning. Or I’m sure I can have Hondo drive it back for you if you're worried about it being at the restaurant that was just robbed.” He was happy to make any accommodation if it meant you wouldn't worry as much. 

“That’s… really nice. I’d like that- you can just take me home though. My car should be fine.” You blushed, excited to extend the date longer. With a plan in place, Deacon led you to the lobby, and out of the clinic. He, once again, helped you into your seat before letting you direct him to your house. The ride was relatively quiet. The only thing on your mind was working up the courage to invite him in. You worried he would take it the wrong way, or think you were just expecting sex. Deacon pulled into your spot in the parking garage, slowly turning to you. 

“This place is… sketchy.” He mumbled.

“Most apartments in the heart of LA are…” You smiled. Deacon watched as your smile faded, watching the gears turn in your brain. “...Would you want to come in? I mean- like, just to talk. I don’t want this date to end.” He smiled back, making you comfortable by adding, “If you don't have a bedtime tonight, that is.”

“I would like that,” He laughed before continuing. “Annie has the kids this weekend.” You smiled and reached for your door handle. He put a hand on your shoulder, stopping you. You couldn't help but laugh and gently shake your head as he ran around to help you out of the car.

You led him to your apartment, his hand never leaving your waist. You wouldn't have guessed his love language was touch, but it was comforting regardless. You tried to think about the state of your apartment, deciding it was probably fine. You unlocked your door, and let him inside.

Deacon took in your apartment, just as cozy as your office. He could tell you took pride in your space and enjoyed just being in it. The overhead lights were off, and lamps and soft warm light made the living room very inviting. He looked for more pictures on the walls, finding more from hikes and parties. You asked him if he wanted something to drink, and he quietly said he'd have whatever you were having. Deacon was focused on the walls of your home. He heard two beers clink against the coffee table. He soon after felt your arms wrap around his waist from behind.

“You do this with all your first dates?” He asked laying his hands on top of yours. 

“This date wasn't a normal one, and you know that.” You laughed into his back. You retracted your hands and led him over to your couch, where your drinks were. He sat down and grabbed his beer, putting his arm over the back of the couch and urging you to sit by him. 

You obliged, cuddling up close to him. A brief silence settled between the two of you until you thought back to how you met. 

“Did you and Mathew talk more about his writing?” You ran your finger over the ridges in the bottle.

“I did. I think it brought us closer together. He decided to show Annie, too. I think it's helping us understand what he's going through and helps him know he can still rely on both of his parents.” He paused to gauge your reaction at the mention of Annie, but the reaction on your face was happiness—happiness for his son and his family. “It’s all thanks to you, you know…” He took a sip of his drink.

“Ah, it's my job, Deacon. Those kids are important to me, and they all need support from their school. It takes a village, or whatever the saying is.” You furrowed your eyebrows thinking about the countless visits kids have had with you, and how many students crashed your office during their lunch to discuss their feelings. The students who you let nap on your chairs, the lunch program you helped run, and so many more small moments that added up to big changes for students. 

“Well, whatever you're doing it's working. Lila thinks you're great too. Over the past few weeks, they haven't stopped talking about you.” He mentioned.

“Thank you.” You felt uncertain about how the kids gushed about you up around Annie, so kept the response short. Deacon must have noticed because he grabbed your hand. You looked up at him and smiled.

“I’m glad you asked me out.” You said quietly.

“I’m glad you didn't think it was weird.” Deacon earned a laugh from you. “So, does that mean you'll go on a second one with me?” He asked.

“It does, but you gotta pick the restaurant this time.”

The end :P

Taglist? Thanks for the support!

@pear-1206

[4tlasb0und]

Tbh idk if it’s talked about but one thing I like about jrwi ships, is that the more common ones are usually made from context clues of subtle hinting or even just an interaction that feeds into something. But none of the common ones feel forced like some gay relationships in media or any relationship sometimes does. I can see Ghostknife being clearly in character for William, I can see fizzfangs being a very “dont really know when it became official we just started sounding more romantic in our bros and dudes towards each other” or even whatever tf we call Gabe and Emizel or Vex and Emizel being hatebonds/situationships. The fact that neither Mary, Deacon, nor Viv were really thrust upon Arthur or Arthur thrust upon them allows you to really just appreciate the fact that WHY WAS THE ROCK GUY THE ONE TO SUCCEED THE ROLL BUT THE SWEET COMING OF AGE TEEN ROMANCE WASNT IT WASNT EVEN A NAT 20 THING IT JUST NEEDED TO BE ABOVE A TEN RIGHT??????