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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 11- Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago

Summary: After an invitation from your cousin, you and Javi take a trip to Chicago to meet your family and attend her wedding.

Word Count: 14.6K (She's lengthy, your honor)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, drunk sex (all consensual, obvs), creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint, but y'all already know) PTSD/anxiety around greif/loss, mentions of religion (the wedding is at a church), drinking alcohol/being drunk (that's what weddings are for, right?), your family being a hot mess but they're sweet and they love you and LOVE Javi, Javi being the best boyfriend ever 10,000 gold stars for him

A/N: Hi everyone!! Thanks for your patience as I finished cranking out this chapter (teaching is hard and children are exhausting), but we are finally done!! We are finally getting to meet Osita's family (eek!!!) and are one step closer to... THINGS *wink wink* happening hehehehe As always, thank you so much for your comments and reblogs, I love these two more than life and you supporting my lil stories means the world to me 🥺💕 My goal is to have chapter 12 done in the next two-ish weeks, thank you for your patience!

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“No, I know, Mom. Yes, I promise I will let her know by today. You understand why I’m having a hard time with this, right? I understand that Charlie and David are going. Okay. Yes. I know. I know, Mom. Tell Dad I say hi, too. Okay, love you too, bye.”

Javi could practically hear your exasperated sighs down the hallway, coming home from work to find you on the phone, hands rubbing against your temples as you finished your conversation with your mom. Since moving into your apartment together, Javi had become familiar with the routine of you taking time to talk to your mom once a week, even offering to hop on the call quickly to say hello if he was home. It was something he could tell you normally seemed to look forward to, seeing how much you missed your family considering it was September, and you hadn’t seen them since you moved to Texas in January. That’s why when he heard the frustration and annoyance over the phone, he gave you a concerned look that you quickly tried to brush away.

“Your mom?” Javi asked, hanging up his suit jacket on the back of the kitchen chair as he made his way over to you, giving you a quick kiss hello, wrapping his arm around your waist as you set down the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was my mom.” You huffed, Javi looking at you in confusion as an unfamiliar scowl covered your face.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked, prompting you to come sit with him on the couch. You curled up next to him, laying your head in his lap as he played with the ends of your hair, waiting patiently to hear what had been bothering you so much from your phone call.

“It’s my mom just being my mom.” You grumbled, pushing your face deeper into Javi’s thigh, trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your temples, making your head hurt. Javi could tell you were holding back, now taking his other hand to trace circles along your shoulder blades, trying to coax an answer out of you. He had come to learn that if something was bothering you, your stubbornness did not allude well to you sharing, insisting that you were fine until he was persistent enough to get it out of you.

Guess all those years of interrogation in the DEA were still good for something.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you be so grumpy after talking on the phone with your mom, and you guys talk all the time. What’s going on, Hermosa?”

Letting out a deep breath, you rolled over, the back of your head resting in Javi’s lap so you could look at him, those stupid, sweet chocolate eyes already staring back at you. “Fine, you win again, puppy dog eyes Peña. My cousin Kelly is getting married in a month. I was supposed to RSVP for us last week since she gave me a plus one, but I couldn’t make up my mind, so my mom has been trying to stall for me, but she said Kelly needs to know her final head count by tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you want to go? I feel like I’ve heard you talk about Kelly, it seems like the two of you are pretty close?” Javi prodded, still knowing there was something you weren’t telling him.

“It’s in Chicago.”

Ah. There it was.

As much as you missed your family, there was a reason you hadn’t been back to Chicago since you moved to Laredo. Not because you didn’t want to see them. Not because you didn’t miss Chicago. Not even because you were worried about running into Paul. You didn’t want to go back to Chicago, because you hadn’t been there since your brother died. It was easy to blame your shitty ex for your cross country move, and that was a story that people seemed to understand without question. What they were missing was the real reason you up and left Chicago as fast as you did. It was because Patrick had died in December, and it took less than a month for you to realize you needed to be as far away from the memory of him as possible. Your parents had offered multiple times for you to come back and visit. They had even offered to pay for your flight to and from Texas to see them. Everytime you found yourself close to saying yes, you found that unpacked “Chicago” box staring at you in your living room, telling you that you just couldn’t do it yet. You hadn’t gone back, because that meant you had to face all of the things that you ran halfway across the country from. And that reason was much harder to explain as to how you had found yourself all the way in Laredo, Texas.

“You want me to be honest with you, Osita?” He looked down at you, fingers still curling around the ends of your hair in his lap.

“I guess.” You grumbled, letting out another sigh.

“It would be stupid for you to not go.”

“Javi you know that-“ you retorted, pushing yourself up to sit next to him.

“I know. I know what you’re gonna say. I get it. It took me a fucking decade to really face any of my family after my mom died because I thought it would be easier to ignore it. It wasn’t. It was still painful as fuck, and I wish I would have just ripped the bandaid off sooner. Your family misses you, baby. You can’t ignore it forever.” He leaned over to press a kiss against your temple, you still sulking in your silence. “When were you gonna tell me that you got a plus one to this thing, huh?” He smirked at you, finally getting a smile to curve from the ends of your lips.

“Never. I was planning on taking your Dad since I know he won’t pester me about doing the right thing and he’s more fun than you anyways.” You smirked back at him giving Javi a nudge before laying your head back down on his lap. You took a deep breath before you spoke again, closing your eyes with your exhale. “I know that you know you’re right, you don’t need to rub it in. You really think I should go? You’d come with me?” You glanced up at him as he smiled down at you.

“I thought I wasn’t invited.” He winked at you as you shook your head.

“Pendejo.”

“You love me. Yes, Osita. Of course I’ll come with you. I’d love to finally meet your family and be your date to the wedding.” That finally got you to smile, wrapping your arms around his leg, squeezing him tightly.

“Listen, don’t feel like you have to though, okay? I know it means you’re gonna have to take time off, and get plane tickets and-”

“Osita, I’m going with you. I think Morris would be fuckin’ relieved if I finally used some of my vacation days. Don’t worry about the tickets either.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss into the top of your head, feeling the smile of his lips against you.

“Okay. Thanks, Javi. I’m really excited for you to meet Abe Froman, the Sausage King of Chicago.” You laughed to yourself, pausing at Javi’s silence as he looked at you in confusion. “Abe Froman? The Sausage King of Chicago? Ferris Buler’s Day Off? Please tell me you’ve seen Ferris Buler’s Day off?” You were now back to sitting upright, looking at Javi in shock.

“Osita, who the fuck is Abe Froman?” Javi chuckled at you shaking your head in humor thinking he had any idea what you were talking about.

“The Sausage King of Chicago!!!” You grabbed his shoulders and shook him before he reciprocated, grabbing you back and playfully shaking you just as hard. “Fine, it looks like we’re watching Ferris Buler’s Day Off before we leave.”

“I don’t understand how this doesn’t make you nervous.” Your leg bounced frantically as you sat outside the bench of your airport terminal, glancing over at Javi, who couldn’t have looked less bothered, flipping through the pages of one of the books he had brought to read on the plane.

“Baby, if you keep bouncing your leg like that, you’re gonna put a goddamn hole in the floor.” He laughed, tucking his book back in his bag as wrapped his large palm around your knee, trying to settle your leg back into a resting position. “I promise it’ll be fine, it’s a 3 hour flight, it’ll go by fast.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you flew everywhere, all the time. I just don’t understand how thinking about the fact that we’re gonna be in a giant tin can, thousands of feet up in the air going hundreds of miles per hour, at the mercy of a dude who you just hope knows how to fly you to your destination doesn’t make you feel like you’re gonna shit your pants.” Javi draped his forearm across your lap, keeping both legs from bouncing as the leg he had left uncovered had quickly begun tapping against the tile floor.

Now boarding flight 1605 to Chicago, Illinois. Passengers, please have your boarding passes ready.

“Oh shit. Okay. I guess that means we’re getting on this metal death trap. Do you have our boarding passes? They’re in your bag right? You have all our-” Javi swallowed the rest of your sentence as he cusped your face, pulling you in for a soft kiss.

“I have it all. I promise it’ll be okay. C’mon, Osita.” He smiled, interlocking his hand with yours as he slung his backpack over his shoulder, walking you towards the gate.

Javi was thankful for both your sakes that it didn’t take long to board your flight, offering to suffer in the middle seat, hoping that letting you look out the tiny window of the plane would potentially ease some of your horrendous flying anxiety. Knowing you, it wasn’t a shock to Javi to find out that the thing that made you most stressed about flying is that you had absolutely no control over what was happening, which, to be fair, he couldn’t totally blame you for. As you had been waiting, you had been listening to your Walkman, putting an excessive number of CDs in Javi’s bag, not sure which one was going to make you feel the safest in the soda can you were about to take flight in. You had settled on listening to the Beatles Greatest Hits, hoping that blasting the familiar songs through your headphones would at least bring you a little comfort. Javi’s hand never left your leg, tracing small circles against your jeans as he thumbed through the pages of his book. Your music was loud enough that you hadn’t heard the flight attendants make the announcement that you were about to begin takeoff, so the sudden movement of the plane down the runway had you death gripping around Javi’s forearm and scrunching your eyes closed. Without saying a word, he took one of his hands and intertwined it with yours rubbing his thumb across your soft skin. You had no interest in reciprocating Javi’s gentle touch, you were grasping on to his hand so hard, he was convinced you were trying to break a bone. You spent the entire flight with your eyes closed and holding on to Javi, finally feeling like you could breathe again once you had landed, and Javi finally feeling the circulation of his blood flow coming back to his hand.

After picking up your bags, you were able to quickly hail down a taxi, insisting to your parents that if they were going to let you stay for the weekend, you weren’t going to make them drive all the way out to the airport to pick you up. They had reluctantly agreed, and you couldn’t have been more thankful, needing the extra 45 minutes in the cab to try and calm your nerves before facing your family for the first time in 9 months. Although Javi had tried to give you your space on the plane, he could sense the stress in the cab ride to your family home was of a much more intense and gut wrenching caliber than on your flight. “You doing okay, hermosa?” he asked softly, leaning over to press a kiss into your shoulder as you stared out the window at the skyline.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay.” You replied, Javi less than convinced by your response. Trying to think of anything to help ease your mind, he looked out at the city from his own window before turning back to you.

“What’s your favorite place to go downtown?” He asked, squeezing your hand, giving you a look that said I know you don’t believe it, but I promise it’s going to be okay.

You smiled back at him, nodding at his question as if to thank him for bringing up something to distract you on your drive. “Chicago Stadium where the Blackhawks used to play. They tore it down a few years ago to build a new arena, but I have lots of memories of going to watch games there with my brothers and dad as a kid. I always really liked going to the Shedd Aquarium, too. Well, after I found out that you weren’t allowed to feed your younger sister to the sharks when your parents weren’t looking, despite what my brothers told me.” The both of you laughed, the drive passing quickly as you shared more stories of the happy memories of your life long before Laredo.

A strange feeling washed over you as you pulled down the familiar street of your childhood home. The quiet suburban road was lined with tall trees, their leaves painted deep red and orange, gently falling in the crisp October wind. The homes were rich with charm and character, neatly placed along the sidewalk, mentally counting down how many left there were to pass until you finally arrived at yours. It was an eerie feeling pulling up to the last house on Coachman Drive, wondering to yourself how on the outside, it looked like a day hadn’t passed since you’d lived there, yet on the inside, everything had been turned upside down.

“Fuck, it’s cold. Is it always this fuckin’ cold here?” Javi shivered as he pulled your suitcases out of the trunk of the cab, the two of you beginning your journey up the pathway to your front door.

“I forget you’ve been spoiled with warm weather your entire life.” You laughed, watching Javi already struggle with the stark change in temperature. “It’s only 55 degrees, it’s not even that bad! Remind me that if we come back in the winter, I’m gonna need to get you an Alaskan grade snowsuit, cause you are not gonna be happy with how cold it really gets.” You paused as the two of you reached the front door, taking one last deep breath in as you placed your hand on the cold metal of the handle, almost as if you were bracing yourself for the last moment of separation you had between you and your past.

“Hey.” Javi placed his hand over yours. “It’s gonna be okay. I love you.” He looked down at you, giving a reassuring nod as you mustered up the best smile you could, twisting the handle of the door as you stepped in through the doorway.

“Hey, it’s me! Anyone home?” You shouted into the entryway, looking up the stairs and into the living room for any signs of your family. “Hello?” You looked at Javi and shrugged as you kicked your shoes off by the door, walking deeper into the home. Just as you were about to turn the corner into the dining room, you felt two hands wrap around your shoulders from behind, quickly shifting to put you in a headlock.

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

‘David, you asshole, let me go!” You squirmed in your brother’s grasp, sharply jabbing him in the stomach making him grunt and release you.

“C’mon, Cubby, that’s no way to say hello to your favorite brother that you missed oh so much.” He teased, playfully punching at you.

“Bold of you to assume that you’re my favorite, or that I missed you.” You rolled your eyes at David before smiling and pulling him in for a hug, shaking each other in your tight squeeze.

“AUNTIE BEAR!” A little voice shrieked from down the hallway, tiny feet patterning against the tile floor as a small body came barreling towards you, smiling at the sweet nicknames from your family you had missed so dearly.

“Olivia come here, sweetie!” You crouched down extending your arms to your niece, scooping her up and spinning her. “Oh I missed you so much, cutie patootie! How’s first grade? Are you being a good role model for your classmates?”

“Yes, Auntie Bear, I promise! I was Star of the Week last week in my class!” Olivia’s little voice giggled as you pecked her with kisses before setting her back down. “Tell her Daddy, tell her how I was star of the week!” She beamed as Charlie peeked down the hallway, grinning at you as you ran into him for a hug.

“Hey, Bear Cub. It’s good to see you. Missed havin’ you around.” Charlie smiled at you as he ruffled the hair on your head, taking a much gentler approach to his greeting than your other brother.

“Oh honey is that you? Greg! Turn off the damn game, your daughter is here!” You could hear your mom rushing out of the family room, laughing as she barricaded through your brothers, squeezing you in her grasp. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m so happy you’re here. We’ve missed you so much. I was just telling- GREG! I SWEAR. HOCKEY WILL STILL BE ON LATER, YOUR LITERAL CHILD IS STANDING AT THE DOOR.”

“Jesus, woman, I’m coming! I heard you the first time, I’m trying not to throw out my goddamn back getting out of my chair!” You dad sauntered down the hallway, grumbling to himself. “Hey, kiddo.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulder, rubbing a noogie in your arm. “Missed you, bud.”

“I missed all of you guys too.” You smiled out looking at your family, the ache in your chest starting to ease, replaced by a familiar comfort of the chaos being surrounded by the people you loved.

“Who’s that guy?” Olivia pointed at Javi, who was looking very overwhelmed by the whirlwind greeting that had just taken place. You looked back at him, reaching out to grab his hand, giving him an apologetic look that you had completely forgotten to introduce him in the rapid fire reunion that had occurred.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Everyone, this is Javi!” You gestured at him as you began to roll call the family member surrounding you. “Javi, these are my brothers, David and Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you guys.” Javi outstretched his arm, shaking both your brother’s hands, the two nodding back.

“Likewise, Jav. Heard a lot about ya.” Charlie smiled, releasing his hand from Javi’s to give him a pat on the shoulder.

“And these are my mom and dad.” You gestured over to the older couple standing in front of you as Javi stepped forward, hand open and ready to shake.

“It’s so nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs.-”

“Oh please.” Your mom swatted at Javi before pulling him in for a hug. “Pam and Greg will do just fine. It’s very nice to meet you, Javi. We’ve heard so much about you. We’re thrilled that you could come, we have been just dying to finally meet you!”

“That’s very kind of you. It’s great to finally meet all of you, too. Thank you so much for letting me stay.” Javi smiled at your parents, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as he stepped back closer to you after saying hello.

“Oh he is so polite! And handsome honey, oh my god!” Your mom more than whispered as she leaned over towards you.

“I heard that, Pam.” Your dad groaned, making the two of you laugh.

“Excuse me?” Olivia sassed, looking at you with her arms crossed over her chest, making you laugh at how witty she already was at just 6 years old.

“Sorry sweetie, how could I forget? Jav, this is my niece, Olivia.” Javi crouched down to Olivia’s level, holding out his hand for a high-five, Olivia quickly using all her might to give him one back.

“Oh man, you’re strong!” He laughed, pretending to shake out his hand in pain from Olivia’s forceful high-five. “It’s nice to meet you, Olivia. Your aunt talks about you all the time.” Javi smiled at you before standing back up.

“It’s ‘cause she’s my favorite aunt, even though she’s my only aunt. It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Javi.”

“Wait, I just realized, where are Natalie and Brianna?” You looked at Charlie, puzzled by where his wife and your other niece were. Charlie chuckled as he scooped Olivia back up into his arms, making his way towards the door to put on his shoes.

“Well considering that Natalie is almost 8 months pregnant and exhausted and we have a 3 year old who needs to sleep, they’re still both at home. They’ll be at the wedding tomorrow, though. And speaking of which, Little Miss, it is already wayyy past your bedtime. I told you we could stay until Auntie Bear got home, and then we’d have to go. Give her one last kiss and you’ll see her tomorrow, okay?” Charlie held Olivia up to your cheek, letting her give you a kiss before a yawn escaped from her pouty face.

“Daddy can’t we stay just a little bit longer, pleaseeee?” Olivia whined, giving her dad her best puppy eyes.

“Yeah, c’mon Charlie, just a little bit longer? Pleaseeee?” You laughed as your face mirrored Olivia’s, not taking Charlie very long to give in to your request.

“Fine. Until the end of the game and then we have to go. No if’s, and’s or but’s, missy.”

“… Butts.” David snickered to himself as you rolled your eyes.

“You are worse than a literal six year old, I swear, David. Thank you, Charlie. Let us just go put our stuff away and then we’ll be back down, okay?” You smiled at your family as you nudged Javi to grab his bag and follow you upstairs.

"I gotta grab something from my room, too. Here, I’ll help you take up your guys' stuff.” David smiled, looking back at your family, giving them a reassuring nod before grabbing one of the bags by your feet as the three of you made your way up the stairs to the second level. As you got to the top of the staircase, you paused, taking a deep breath as Javi and David continued down the hallway. “So Cubby, how’s it been with-” He turned around, now realizing you were no longer following along, staring blankly at the first bedroom down the hall. The joy you had just felt from your greeting now draining from your body, leaving you feeling numb.

Patrick’s room.

“I knew this was gonna fucking happen. Cubby. Listen to me.” David retracted his steps, now standing in front of you, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to look at him, an unusually stern and serious look growing across his face. “You gotta let it go. You don’t have to forget, but you can’t be mad about it anymore, dude. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Okay, that’s not true, it’s the Army’s fault, those fuckers, but there’s nothing more that you could have done. He’d beat the shit out of you if he knew how mad at yourself you still were. Let it go.” You and David weren’t one for ever being sentimental with each other. Hell, before Patrick died, the closest sentiment you had ever given each other was refraining to not wrestle the other to the ground for the entire day. That’s why when David wrapped his arms around you for a hug, a real hug, you could feel something inside you shift, like the tiniest bit of guilt had begun to lift off your shoulders, that there was a truth to his words that you alone weren’t the one to blame. “Okay, okay, that’s long enough, the hug can end now.” David stuck out his tongue before taking his arms and shoving you away, breaking your somber stare, turning it into smiles.

“Thanks, David. You didn’t really need anything from up here, did you?” You half smirked at him, trying not to let him know how much his pep talk had meant to you.

“Of course I didn’t, idiot. I mean it, Cubby. Don’t take too long up here, lovebirds. Remember, we share a thin ass wall and I don’t need to hear you two going at it all night.” He punched your arm before passing by Javi, giving him a Pat on the back before making his way back downstairs.

“Jesus, David!” You groaned, covering your face over your hands as you looked back up at Javi. “I told you this house was a shitshow, and this is down a brother.” You gestured towards Patrick’s door before grabbing the rest of your bags and heading down the hallway to your old bedroom. Javi laughed, following behind you.

“Your family’s funny as hell. I’ve been here 20 minutes and can already understand why the iguana only made it a day.” He nudged you as you opened the door to your bedroom, pausing a moment before his next question.

“Yeah, they’re funny, but this is them on their best behavior. I called my mom and practically had to beg her to make sure no one did anything too embarrassing, and this is still what we get.” You grunted as you swung your suitcase up onto your bed, looking around to find your room in the exact same state it was before you had moved out and left for college. To be quite honest, Javi wasn’t shocked to find that your childhood bedroom probably could have been mistaken for one of your brothers- your dark blue walls covered in Chicago Blackhawks pictures and pennants, a giant Star Wars poster next to your dresser, medals and trophies of little golden hockey players lining your shelves. As he walked over to a desk in the corner of the room, he saw dozens of old photos, mostly of you and your family, but a few of just you as a kid with your wide, toothy grin, drowning in whatever hockey jersey you had gotten that season. Javi laughed to himself, holding up one of a tiny you, beaming as you raised a trophy above your head, missing nearly half your teeth, your face red and sweaty as you sat on top of who looked to be your dad’s shoulders. Sneaking up behind him you wrapped your arms around Javi’s stomach, pressing your chest into his back now giggling at the photo he was holding. “That was the first year my parents let me play with my brothers. I was so determined all season long to score a goal all season. First and only one was the one that won our team the championship that year. It’s all been downhill since then.”

“God, you were fuckin’ cute. Our kids better look like you.” He turned around resting his hands on your hips as you rolled your eyes at him.

“You’re very sweet, but let’s hope we can spare them that pain. I will be very disappointed if they don’t have your adorable puppy dog eyes, although, if that’s the case, I’m gonna have to get really good at learning how to say no so I don’t give into their cuteness.” Javi shook his head, caging his chest against yours as he pulled you in tight. “Thank you, Javi.” You whispered against the soft fabric of his shirt, the familiar scent of his sweet and spicy cologne filling your nostrils as you leaned your head on his body.

“For what, Osita?” He asked, taking one of his hands as he palmed the back of your head, running his hands through the ends of your hair.

“I don’t know, I just- I know my family is a lot, and you flew with me all the way from Texas just to meet them, and- shit, on top of that, I’m dealing you the tragically dead brother card, and you’ve just been so great and understanding. So just- thank you, is what I’m trying to say. Thank you for all of this.” You took in a deep breath, squeezing yourself tighter against Javi’s chest.

“Hey.” He dragged his hand from the back of your head to your cheek, his fingers feathering over your skin. “I appreciate it, but you don’t need to thank me for anything. I love you. I’d do anything for you, Hermosa. Thank you for letting me be a part of your life, even the parts of it that hurt.” Javi dragged his thumb across your cheek, wiping away the tears that had started falling, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Anything? You’d eat a pile of dog shit for me?” You tried to laugh through your tears, making Javi’s eyes roll.

“Anything within reason, you idiot. You’re not any better than David.”

“Hey, you take that back, that’s a low blow, even for you Javier Peña.” The two of you were both laughing, taking one last deep breath to press up on your tiptoes to kiss Javi before opening up your suitcase to dig out some of the pajamas bottoms you had packed. Stripping out of your jeans, you shuffled through your closet, pulling out a well worn Blackhawks crewneck and slipping it on before sitting down on the bed to watch Javi rummage through his own suitcase.

“You sure it’s okay if I change? I wanna make a good impression on your parents.” He huffed, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt he had packed.

“Did you meet my family? Javi, to be completely honest with you, I am shocked my dad even had the decency to put pants on before he came out to say hi to us. You’re more than welcome to keep on what you have on, but you don’t have to worry about making a good impression. I promise, they really like you. My parents never told Paul to call them Pam and Greg in the whole 3 years we dated. Plus, I also very selfishly want to see you in those gray sweatpants.” You smirked as Javi undid his belt, pushing his jeans to the floor before grabbing his sweatpants and shuffling them on, his shirt quickly following suit.

“I don’t understand what it is with you and these fucking sweatpants.” He laughed, pulling you up to stand from the edge of the bed as you outstretched your arms toward him.

“You already know exactly why, Javi. And if we weren’t trying to share this tiny bed and my parents and David weren’t on either side of these paper thin walls, you best believe I would be showing you just how much I appreciate them. Thank God Kelly’s wedding is far enough away and everyone likes to drink enough to get hotel rooms for tomorrow.” You reached down, palming Javi’s dick in his sweatpants, making him bite down on his lip before taking his hand and grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t…” He warned, trying his best to be stern, even though you could clearly tell he wasn’t that upset by your gesture.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is this coming from the man who fucked me in his bathroom on his birthday, surrounded by all of his closest friends and family? Two can play at that game, baby.” You winked, giving his crotch one more squeeze before running out of the bedroom as Javi adjusted himself, following behind you down the hallway.

…….

“Your fucking team is kicking our ass.” You dad grumbled as you and Javi entered the family room, where your parents, brothers and niece were gathered on the couch, surrounding the TV.

“GREG! Your granddaughter is right there!” Your mom slapped your dad across the couch as he held up his arms in defense.

“They are, Pam!” Your dad retorted, angrily pointing at the screen, playing the Blackhawks vs. Dallas Stars game, the Blackhawks down by 2 with only 5 minutes left.

“It’s okay.” Olivia chimed in, peeking up from the drawing she was working on. “Daddy said that swearing during hockey doesn’t count, but Daddy says I can’t tell Mommy that.”

“Nice parenting, Charlie.” Your mom turned to the opposite side of the couch, now slapping your brother.

“Okay, listen, I will root for Dallas if they’re playing anyone else but the Hawks. They are not my team, they just happen to be the only hockey team in a thousand mile radius since Texas is a hockey wasteland. Blame him, not me.” You pointed at Javi, giving him a playful shove as you both sat down next to Olivia on the floor.

“I don’t know, I really thought my team was the Red Wings, you guys really like them too, right?” Javi chuckled, trying to inflict as much sarcasm as possible to make sure his joke stuck. Considering your family spoke sarcasm fluently, Javi was relieved to find your family laughing to themselves, your dad reaching down from the couch to put a hand on Javi’s shoulder, shaking it in delight.

“Good man, Javi. She’s taught ya well. I was worried that- Oh motherfucker, you call that a penalty?!” Greg screamed at the TV, you, David and Charlie all following suit.

“GREG! LANGUAGE!”

“SORRY!”

It was now your mom’s turn to reach down and touch Javi’s shoulder as she mumbled in his ear. “I am so sorry about them. She’s no better than the boys, I’m afraid. I swear, sometimes she was the hardest to raise because she was always trying to prove a point to her brothers. She is a tough cookie though, I’ll give her that. Sorry if you’ve got your hands full with her.” Your mom laughed, patting Javi’s back.

“I can definitely see where she gets it from. She’s stubborn as hell, I’ll give her that, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as smart and determined as her.” He looked over at you, beaming with pride as you shouted with your brothers at the TV before turning back to Pam. “I love that about her.”

You turned your head back around to see Javi smiling at you, and your mom smiling at Javi, giving them a confused look as you raised an eyebrow at them. “Are you two talking about me?”

“Maybe.” Javi smirked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he leaned you over to ruffle your hair before pressing a kiss into your forehead. Suddenly, you felt a little hand tapping on your leg, looking over to see Olivia holding several books in your direction.

“Auntie Bear, will you read me a book before I have to go? You’re better at the voices than Daddy, even though he says he is.” Olivia pleaded, placing the books in your lap.

“Of course, cutie pie. Here, pick which one you want and let’s go over to the living room so we don’t have to listen to Grandpa and Uncle David and Daddy yell at the game.” The both of you giggled as you stood up, Olivia picking up a book before quickly using her free hand to grab yours as you walked across the family room. After taking a few steps, Olivia paused, whispering something into your ear before pointing back at Javi. You grinned, nodding your head, before gesturing over to him, as Olivia quickly made her way back, poking Javi on the shoulder.

“Mr. Javi, do you wanna read with us?” She asked with her toothy grin, holding the book she had chosen up in front of her. Javi was taken aback, eyes going wide, gulping as he looked back at you. He didn’t know why such a simple question had made him so nervous. Maybe it was because he knew how much you loved Olivia, or the fact that the last thing he wanted to do was make a bad impression, your family thinking he was trying to insert himself to prove that he fit in.

“Uh, I don’t know, Olivia, are you-”

“She’s the one who asked.” You smirked at him. “In her defense, she did pick out a really good book.”

“You sure?” He smiled at Olivia, now squealing with excitement as she jumped up and down, clutching her book, nodding her head frantically. “Okay, you’re gonna have to help me though, your Aunt told me that you’re a really good reader.” Javi grunted as he pushed himself off the floor, following the two of you to the living room.

“I’ve been practicing lots. Okay, Auntie Bear, you sit here, and Mr. Javi, you sit here, and I sit in the middle and hold the book.” Olivia nodded defiantly, plopping herself in the middle of the couch.

“What are we reading today, missy?” You asked, pointing down to the book Olivia was holding.

“Tacky the Penguin! Mrs. Meadows my teacher read it but it’s only good if you do the voices extra funny, okay?” Olivia glared at the both of you as she opened to the first page.

“Extra funny voices, got it. You got that, Mr. Javi?” You winked, giving him a pinch on his cheek as he shook his head, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

“Got it.”

Finally noticing what was happening, Charlie elbowed both your parents, gesturing towards you and Javi sitting on one of the loveseats in the living room, Olivia happily squished between the two of you, holding out her book. The 3 of you were in hysterics, dying at the ridiculous voice Javi had attempted for one of the characters Oliva had assigned him, which she clearly had deemed to be funny enough for her liking.

“He’s a good one, huh?” Charlie smirked, your family close to tears watching the glow that had suddenly gone black 9 months ago, slowly begin to shine again with Javi by your side. Your parents looked at each other, quietly nodding to themselves.

“Yeah. He’s a good one.”

It hadn’t taken long last night for Olivia’s one read aloud request to turn into 4 more, your yawns and blinks of your heavy lids against your tired eyes growing more frequent with each page. Halfway through your last book, you and Olivia were curled up against each other, fast asleep. Letting the two of you rest, Javi had spent the rest of his night with your parents and brothers, shocked by how quick they were to treat him like he had been a part of your family for years. Javi shared about your life in Texas- how proud he was of you for all you had been through, how he couldn’t have been more thankful you had quite literally bumped into him at a time in his life he couldn’t have needed more, and just how goddamn happy you made him. In exchange, your family shared stories of your past with Javi, about the stubborn and sweet child you were and the ridiculous things you did with your brothers that didn’t surprise Javi in the slightest. Hours flew by like minutes, and already way later than he had expected to be out, Charlie had just agreed to spend the night, helping to haul his sleepy daughter up to his old bedroom, while Javi helped to haul an even sleepier you up to yours, David, on the other hand, was laughing at both of you in the background, glad that he wasn’t responsible for anyone. Your parents had very adamantly insisted that there would be plenty of coffee downstairs in the morning and for Javi to not be shy and take as much as he wanted when he woke up.

When Javi awoke to the sunrise spilling through your curtains and rustling leaves rustling in the harsh October wind, he was glad that your parents had been so persistent in making sure he got coffee. The tiny bed the two of you shared, plus the time squished in the middle seat on yesterday’s flight hadn’t done any favors for his back, finding himself already wide awake as you still laid face down, snoring into your pillow. Giving you a kiss on the shoulder and throwing on a shirt, Javi made his way downstairs to find your dad and brothers standing half awake, sipping on their own cups of coffee with the sounds of Sports Center in the background.

“Morning.” David mumbled, taking a drawn out sip of his coffee. “Mugs are up there.” He pointed up at one of the cabinets above the coffee pot for Javi as he reached up to pour himself a generous cup. “Had a feeling you would make good on the coffee offer, you striked me as an early riser.”

“Well being hunched in on a plane and trying to share a bed with a human starfish wasn’t really helping in the sleep department.” Javi mumbled, the men’s sleepy laughter filling the quiet kitchen. “Hey, listen.” Javi paused, taking a sip of his drink before speaking. “I uh- I just wanted to say thank you again for letting me stay and making me feel so welcome. I was really happy when she said that she wanted to come this weekend. I know she really misses you guys. I can see why.” The 3 nodded at Javi, soft and sympathetic smiles creeping up the corners of their cheeks. Greg set down his mug, taking a deep breath before looking up at Javi.

“Javi, I think we should be the ones thanking you. We were so worried about our Bear Cub after what happened to Patrick. She just… She wasn’t the same. I know she’s tough. To be honest, she’s probably tougher than these two assholes.” He gestured towards Charlie and David, shrugging, not seeming offended in the slightest. “All winter after she moved, even when we talked with her on the phone, you could just hear it in her voice how much she hurt. Killed us to think of how much she was beatin’ herself up over something she couldn’t have controlled. And then, right around the end of the school year, she started to sound more like herself. We couldn’t believe it. Turns out, it was right around the time she met you. Seeing her yesterday… seeing that she was the same, happy kid she used to be before all of this? Because of you? We owe ya, Javi.” Grabbing his shoulder, your dad stared at him for a moment before embracing him in a bear hug, patting him on the back.

“And now, my dad has officially only given you one less hug than he’s ever given either of us. It’s high praise.” David chuckled as Greg rolled his eyes at his comment.

“Maybe if you two weren’t such idiots, the number would be higher.”

“Fair.” Charlie and David agreed in unison, grimacing as they sipped their coffee.

“He’s being serious though, Javi. It’s been so long since we’ve seen her this happy. Thanks for takin’ care of her.” Charlie raised his mug at Javi after finishing his swig, the steam still dancing off the bitter liquid.

Javi stood for a moment, staring down into his cup, his heart beginning to race. This wasn’t how he had planned to ask the question that was now stirring at the forefront of his brain. He had wanted to do it later, to find a time before the wedding where he could talk to your dad and brothers in a much more awake and less pajamaed state than the 4 of them found themselves in now. But he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He could feel the pounding in his chest with each second that passed, palms sweating around the ceramic of his coffee mug, trying to muster up the courage and find the words he wanted to say. He took a deep inhale, his breath shaking with the long exhale that followed.

“You good, Jav?” David asked, looking back and forth between his brother and dad, confused as to why his demeanor had shifted so suddenly.

“Oh yeah, yeah, I just- shit. This- This wasn’t how I was planning on doing this…” Javi took one more long breath to compose himself, trying his best to work through the intensity of the nerves flowing through his body. “I know you said that you think I’ve made her happy. Truth is, I had really kind of given up on ever finding someone who was ever gonna make me remotely happy until I met your daughter and your guy’s sister. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I’ve never met anyone like her. I still can’t figure out what she sees in me, or what the hell I ever did to deserve someone like her. I know… I know it’s fast, but I’ve never been so sure about something in my life. I’ve known since the day I met her. I know all of you mean so much to her, and I wanted to ask all of you. I love her more than anything. More than I even knew was possible. I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with her, to be everything she needs, if she’ll let me, cause I think we all know how goddamn stubborn she is, and she would be just fine without me. I guess…. What I’m trying to say is… I love her, would you give me your permission to ask to marry your-”

“OH MY GOD, IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS?!” Your mom shrieked as she snuck up behind the boys in the kitchen, making them all jump out of their skin as they held their hands against their chests, catching their breath from the shock she had just given them.

“JESUS, PAM.” Greg choked out, sputtering between his labored wheezes. “I’m not gonna make it to their goddamn wedding if you give me a heart attack before I even get a chance to tell the kid yes!”

Javi’s head shot up, his jaw hanging half open, trying to make sure he had really just heard what your dad had said. “Wait… did you just-”

“Of course he’s saying yes, Javi! Well even if he’s not, I’m saying yes! Oh come here!” Your mom outstretched her arms draped in her fuzzy bathrobe as she grabbed Javi in for a hug. “You’re saying yes, right Greg?” She shot a deadly look at her husband, now holding up his hands in defense.

“Yes, yes! Of course I’m saying yes, I’m not a fucking idiot! You two morons agree, right?” Your dad pointed at your brothers, now laughing to themselves as they watched Javi caught in the middle of their parents bickering.

“Welcome to the shit show, brother.” David and Charlie stood around both sides of Javi, squishing him sandwich style as David noogied his head, abruptly coming to a halt as everyone heard your sleepy voice traveling down the stairs, into the kitchen.

“What the hell are you guys yelling about so early?” You grumbled, outstretching your arms over your head as you let out a yawn. The rest of your family froze, suspiciously looking back and forth amongst each other, waiting for someone to speak.

“Uh… Javi said he would let us teach him how to skate next time you guys came around, isn’t that right, Jav?” David rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, trying to elbow Javi in his side to get him to respond.

“Uh, yeah? Yeah! That’s what we were talking about. Yeah, next time we come here, I’ll try skating.” Javi replied resistantly, realizing he had never been more thankful for your barely awake state, leaving him and your family in the clear.

“Actually? That’ll be a sight to see.” You yawned again, rubbing your face over your hands, everyone else letting out a silent sigh of relief. “Is there any coffee left?”

The rest of the morning was spent preparing to leave for your cousin’s wedding, your mom insistent on the fact all of you needed plenty of time to prep before her big day. Your family quickly scarfed down breakfast before you and Javi found yourselves back in your old room, repacking your barely opened suitcase as Javi tried his best to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. Ever since you had made your way downstairs this morning, your family had been acting weirder than normal, Javi included. You were trying your best to not read too much into it, but as you sat on the top of your suitcase, fighting with your zipper to get it to close and you caught Javi lovingly staring at you in the midst of your luggage battle, you knew something had to be up.

“You okay?” You grunted, finally getting your suitcase all the way closed.

“Hmmmmm?” Javi shook his head, snapping himself out of whatever day dream he was stuck in.

“You’re being… Weird. All of you guys. What are you all up to?” You interrogated, pointing a finger at Javi, scrunching your nose in frustration.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hermosa. Just excited for this wedding.” He smirked, helping you to stand as you outstretched your arms towards him, snaking his hands around your waist as you met, chest to chest.

“Really? You’re that excited for a stuffy, uptight wedding for one of my cousins you’ve never met? Nice try, Peña. I know there’s something going on, I’ll figure it out eventually.” You raised an eyebrow at him as you poked his chest, making the both of you giggle.

“Alright detective. What if I am that excited, huh? It’s been years since I’ve been to a wedding, and it’s the first one I’ve ever gone to with you. Plus, I’ve never seen you all dressed up before. You always look fucking gorgeous, but fuck, I’m really looking forward to whatever you’re wearing tonight.” He hid his head in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses along your skin, his hot breath dancing around your ear. “Looking even more forward to taking it off later.”

“You’re a fucking menace, Jesus Christ, Javi.” You fought with everything in you to push him away, finding yourself dangerously close to pouncing on him right here in your childhood bedroom. “Believe me, I am too. I can’t even look at you or you’re gonna make me lose my goddamn mind. Get your sexy ass downstairs so we can get to this hotel.”

“Yes ma’am.” He winked, giving your ass one more good squeeze before grabbing his bag and heading downstairs.

“Ridiculous…” You mumbled to yourself, lugging your suitcase behind him.

While you would have loved Javi’s first trip to Chicago to be one filled with sightseeing and visiting your favorite hidden gems downtown, Kelly’s packed and extravagant wedding itinerary left you with very little time to do anything besides check into your hotel room and get ready before her ceremony. You had always gotten along with Kelly- she was your age, your families were close, and it was easy to bond over playing pranks and torturing your brothers together. For as well as the two of you got along, you and Kelly definitely had different tastes when it came to pretty much everything. When you had gotten her invitation, it wasn’t much of a shock to find out that she was having her reception at the Drake, one of the most upscale and gaudy hotels in all of downtown Chicago, preceded by a ceremony at St. Peter’s. Kelly was one for, well, extravagance, to say the least.

Given your family’s inability to be on time for anything, you had found yourselves leaving your house much later than expected, and you and Javi rushed to check in so you had enough time to get ready for a 2 o’clock ceremony. As much as you and Javi both wanted to, you both had enough sensibility to know there wasn’t even close to enough time even for a quickie, having to share a speed shower with no funny business before Javi left you in the bathroom to finish getting your hair and makeup done. He would have given anything to even just stay and watch you get ready, as it had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes, but your brothers and dad had roped him into getting drinks with them at the hotel bar while the girls finished up in their rooms.

The invitation for Kelly’s wedding had very specifically said that this was a black tie only event, which again, didn’t come as much of a surprise to you, but that did mean you had made one too many trips to the mall in the past month to try and find something acceptable enough for her formal request. You had settled on a black satin midi dress that seemed to tightly hug your curves in all the right places, with a slit that creeped just a touch past appropriate up your thigh. Finally finished with your hair and makeup, you slipped yourself into the dress, fighting to get your zipper all the way up your back without Javi’s help. As much as you hated them, your mom had insisted on the fact that you had be an adult about it and wear heels, picking a strappy black pair to match your dress, you had gone with shoes with the most reasonable height you could get away with. You touched up your hair and makeup before stepping back to give yourself a once over in the mirror before heading downstairs.

Shit, you clean up pretty damn good.

You were surprised to find yourself the last of your family members to meet in the hotel lobby, everyone else already crowding around the bar, chatting away as they waited for you before cramming into the car to drive over to the ceremony. Of course David was the first one to notice you as you walked up to join the group, not letting any opportunity to give you shit pass him by.

“Well damn, how many people on the crisis team did you have up there to make you look like a half presentable human being?” David snickered as you slapped his chest with your purse.

“That’s funny, I didn’t know this was a circus sponsored event, I’m surprised that Kelly would want to invite a clown to her wedding, asshole.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at David as the rest of your family turned around to greet you.

Javi immediately perked up as he heard your voice, breaking from the conversation he was having with Charlie, whipping his head in your direction. As soon as his eyes met you, his jaw just about dropped to the floor, raising a hand to his face, covering his mouth hanging open agape. You were no better, looking through the crowd at Javi to find him not just dressed in a suit, but a tuxedo, complete with a black bowtie and tight suit jacket that just about brought you to your damn knees. The two of you stood frozen as your family began to move around you, collectively making your way to the doors of the lobby to leave, your mom grabbing your arm to tell you something about how you looked nice and that we needed to go, but with the way you found yourself gawking at Javi, you couldn’t have really told you a single word that she had said. The two of you found yourself at the back of the crowd as Javi walked towards you, his tongue darting out of his mouth as he licked his lower lip, you biting down on yours, wondering how the hell he had gotten even more handsome as he approached you.

“Fuck me, Osita…” He rasped, his eyes glancing up and down the length of your body before leaning in for a gentle kiss. “Jesus Christ, you look fucking… Fuck, you look fucking stunning.” He reached down to interlock his hand with yours as the two of you began following behind your family.

“Me?! Javi what the fuck, since when were you gonna tell me that you owned a goddamn tux? Oh. My. God.” You shook your head, barely able to peel your eyes off Javi and how good he looked.

“When I started working as an attaché for the DEA, they made me get one in case I had any bullshit, ass-kissing dinner parties I had to go to. Only had to wear it twice, but figured now would be another good time to break it out.” He smirked, giving him a nudge as you watched him peek over his shoulder to get a better look at the way your dress hugged against your ass, taking a deep breath as the two of you made your way outside to join your family at the car. “Goddamn, Hermosa, I’m really gonna have to be on my best behavior tonight, aren’t I?”

“Not if anyone catches you.” You winked as you ducked your head into the car, squishing yourself between your brothers to find a seat.

Pulling up to the church just in time, your family tucked into one of the back pews, politely chatting with friends and family members until the processional music had begun, and the wedding party had begun making its way down the aisle. You couldn’t help but bite down on your lip and grin as you watched Kelly make her way through the church in her white, flowy gown, imagining what it would be like for it to be you in her place, walking to meet Javi, waiting there for you to finally be his wife. As you watched, Javi wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as his fingertips dug gently into your hips, as if to say “Soon, I promise”.

The joy of the moment quickly came to a halt as Kelly met her future husband Mark at the altar and you were hit by the reality of the fact that you were about to have to sit through a full Catholic Mass. Your family had never been religious, your parents often claiming if God was real, he wouldn’t have cursed them with the hell on earth that was raising you and your brothers. Truth be told, Kelly wasn’t really either, but your Uncle Matt, Kelly’s Dad, always loved to try and prove he was just a little bit better than the rest of his family, so even if your cousins were only “Christmas Mass Catholics”, of course he was going to find the biggest, most beautiful church downtown for his daughter to get married in. 15 minutes into the ceremony, you were already beyond lost, wondering why you had already stood up and sat down 4 different types, looking over at Javi, making him laugh as you grimaced your face at the priest who was chanting some sing-songy prayer you couldn’t understand. All of a sudden, you were following Javi and the rest of the church as they got down to kneel, giving him a confused look as to how he seemed to know it was coming next.

“I didn’t think you were religious?” You whispered into his ear, trying to keep your eyes facing forward at the altar.

“I’m not.” He chuckled quietly to himself before quietly replying.

“Then why does it look like you know what the hell you're doing?” You mumbled, both pulling out a book from the shelf on the back of the pews, mimicking the crowd around you.

“Because my parents were, and I still got dragged to church with them every Sunday until I left for college. Never really believed this shit then, definitely didn’t after I left for Colombia.” Javi shrugged, helping you back up to stand. “You’re not, are you? I’m gonna assume no, considering how lost you’ve looked the past 20 minutes.” He glanced down at you, smirking.

“Yeah, that would be a big, fat no.” The two of you snickered quietly, looking over to see a frail older lady with wiry silver hair now shushing you and Javi with a menacing glare on her face. Both of you grimaced, trying to keep from bursting into laughter as you turned away. “So you wouldn’t wanna get married in a Church?” You sighed, realizing you were back to kneeling again.

“No, not at all.” Javi grunted as he got down to join you, resting his forearms against the back of the pew as he leaned over to you, his hot breath hitting your neck. “Although… I do always like seeing you on your knees.”

“Javi!” You reached over, swatting him in the stomach, perhaps a little too loudly, as the same elderly woman who had shushed you a few moments ago was now giving you both the death glare. This time you couldn’t help but keep your laughter uncontained, resting your heads against each other as you giggled over the terrible chanting voices in the background.

You couldn’t have been more thankful that the rest of the ceremony seemed to go by quickly, happily finding yourself on your second drink as cocktail hour back at the reception was underway. Your little bit of liquid courage was enough to get you through the never ending parade of “Hellos”, “Is this your boyfriend?” And sympathetic “How are you doing since Patrick passed?” From your friends and family, Javi’s hand squeezed tightly in yours, never leaving your side, unless you asked him to go get you another drink to help you through the relentless interrogations.

With the reception close to staring, you and Javi went to go find your table, relieved to have a moment of peace as you found no one else had come to sit down yet, finally giving you two a moment alone. “You doing okay, Osita?” Javi asked, rubbing his hand along your back as you finished off the rest of your gin and tonic, opting for something stronger than beer to get you through the night. “Yeah, only because it seems like the bartender is making these extra strong.” You laughed, swirling around the melted ice in your glass. “I’m okay because I have you with me.” You giggled, Javi laughing along with you, already able to tell that you were a little tipsy as you stood up out of your chair. “And on that cute note, I’m gonna go run to the bathroom really quick before all this starts. I love you, handsome.” You pressed a quick kiss into his cheek as you wandered through the crowd, Javi happily taking an extra long look at the way your ass swayed in your dress as you moved.

“Hi Mr. Javi!” A little voice squeaked, tugging on the sleeve of Javi’s suit jacket.

“Hey, Olivia!” Javi smiled, looking over to see both of your nieces and your brother standing next to him.

“You know where Bear Cub went?” Charlie asked, looking around the crowd, distress spreading across his face as he held Brianna, your 3 year old niece, crying in his arms.

“Bathroom, why?” Javi asked, sensing the desperation in your brother’s tone as he rocked his sobbing daughter, Olivia already comfortably climbing up into the seat next to Javi after pulling the coloring book and crayons out of the bag Charlie had strapped over his shoulder.

“Shit… Look, I’m sorry to do this man, do you mind watching Olivia until she comes back?”

“Brianna had an accident.” Olivia chimed in nonchalantly, picking up a pink crayon to color in one of the balloons she was working on in her coloring book. “She’s got pee all in her underwear.”

Javi tried his best not to laugh, nodding to Charlie as your brother rushed off with Brianna. “What are you working on?” Javi looked over at Olivia, gesturing to the page she was very intensely focused on coloring.

“It’s a picture of a puppy with balloons, but I’m making them pink and blue because I like pink and Auntie Bear likes blue. Here, you color this one.” She assertively shoved the coloring book in between her and Javi, Javi picking up a gray crayon from the box to start coloring the elephant Olivia had demanded he worked on. “Do you love Auntie Bear?” Olivia prodded, not even bothering to look up from the puppy she was tracing with her brown crayon. Javi froze for a moment, taken aback by the 6 year old’s bluntness and curiosity.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I love your Aunt a lot.” Javi smiled at Olivia as the two of them exchanged crayons.

“So why haven’t you married her like Kelly and Mr. Mark yet? Isn’t that what grownups do when they love each other?” Javi took a sip of his drink, not realizing he was going to have to justify his life choices to your niece over a coloring book.

“Well yeah, it’s what a lot of grownups do, I guess. I want to marry her, I just haven’t asked her yet.” Javi took a deep breath, wondering how a first grader was prying this information out of him.

“Well why haven’t you done it yet?” Olivia sassed, crossing her little arms over her chest as she looked at Javi.

“Well, it’s not that simple.” Javi answered, shaking his head as he continued coloring the picture in front of him.

“It seems like it is. If you ask her I know Auntie Bear will say yes. She loves you a lot more than Mr. Paul. She never smiled around him and she always smiles when she’s with you.” Javi sighed, setting down his crayon to look at Olivia.

“Well she makes me smile a lot, too. Don’t worry, I’m gonna ask her soon.”

“Really?!” Olivia squealed, bouncing up and down in her seat. “And then you’ll be Uncle Javi instead of Mr. Javi?!”

Javi grinned, a soft smile creeping across his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?”

“What are you two cuties talking about, huh?” Javi unaware of your presence behind him, making him shoot up as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

“Well Mr. Javi and I were coloring and he said that pretty soon he’s gonna be Uncle Javi and that he’s gonna-”

“Hey, you guys! Who colored that ugly ass elephant?” David joked as the rest of your family joined you, Javi and Olivia at your table, Javi absolutely relieved by your brother’s insult of his poor art skills to stop Olivia from going any further. You couldn’t help but feel heat flush over your face, knowing exactly what those two had been talking about, biting down on your lip as you gave Javi a little nudge. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. Javi’s pink cheeks and flustered face told you everything you needed to know. Javier Peña was going to propose to you. The only question that left you with was when, and where.

If there was one thing you knew about your family, it was they were always ready for a good time, and that was without an open bar. It wasn’t long before everyone at your table (besides your pregnant sister in law and nieces, although Olivia perhaps had one too many juices) were several drinks in, wanting to make the most of Kelly’s wedding. From the moment the dance floor opened, everyone was out, singing and dancing, including Javi, who you had dragged on to the dance floor with you, even though it didn’t take much convincing to do so after the shots of Fireball your brothers had wrangled him into taking. There really weren’t words to describe the feeling you had watching Javi with your family. Although his presence could ever replace Patrick’s, there was something about the way Javi had come into your life and healed a piece of you that had been missing, aching to be filled by the love of someone who you cared for so deeply. Not only had he filled that void for you, but watching him laugh and dance with your family made you feel like he seemed to ease some of their pain too. You watched your family bond with Javi quicker in the past two days than they did with Paul in 3 years. It was like they knew just how special he was, just how much he had come into your life and changed it for the better. There was never a doubt in your mind, but if this trip had done anything, it had solidified for you that Javier Peña was the best thing that could have ever happened to you.

The night had flown by, dancing and screaming to the music on the dance floor, now completely losing count of how many drinks deep you were. At some point, Javi had taken off both his suit jacket and bow tie, his dress shirt now undone 4 buttons deep, while your heels your mom had insisted you wore were long gone at your table hours ago. As the music on the dance floor began to shift, slowing its pace to “At Last” by Etta James, Javi outstretched his arm toward you, pulling you in towards his chest, wrapping his large palms around your waist, resting dangerously close to the curve of your ass. You leaned your head against him, your face resting between the fabric of his dress shirt and his exposed skin as the both of you swayed back and forth along to the syrupy melody of the song. Javi peeked over his shoulder, looking at Kelly and her now husband, hand in hand on the dance floor, grinning to himself as he spoke down to you.

“I can’t wait for that to be us.” He beamed, nudging you in Mark and Kelly’s direction, your drunken cheeks growing even more pink than they already were from your countless gin and tonics. “I’m not even kidding, Osita. I’d marry you tomorrow, but I got a plan because you deserve everything and I’m gonna fucking give it to you.” You bit down on your tongue, raising an eyebrow at Javi’s drunken smirk as you draped your arms around his neck.

“A plan, huh? And what plan would that be, Jav?” You giggled as he pecked a few kisses at your cheek.

“I’m drunk, but I can keep a secret. I know you hate surprises, but it’s gonna be a surprise okay?”

“I mean, if it has to be, I guess that’s fine, I just wanna- JAVIIII!” You shrieked as he tightened his grip around your waist, lifting you off the floor and twirling you in a circle as the song came to a close. “You are crazy!” You laughed, playfully punching him as he set you down

“Crazy for you.” He winked, shaking you in his grasp.

“Okay, that was so cheesy. Like extra cheese on mac and cheese, cheesy. Even for how drunk we both are. You’re lucky you’re a hot piece of ass, Javier Peña.” You giggled, grabbing a quick squeeze of his butt, your laughter slowly turning into a drunkenly horny desire as you saw Javi’s eyes light up and jaw go slack as he just about damn near undressed you with his eyes in the middle of the dance floor.

“Me? Osita, I don’t think you understand. You are the most beautiful, sexy woman I have ever fuckin’ seen. I’m not even kidding. I swear to God. I had random ass guys at bar asking if I had seen the hot girl in the tight black dress, immediately pointing to you, and you know what I fuckin’ told them? I said that’s my fucking wife, so you can fuck right off, she’s all mine.”

“Well that’s very sweet of you except for the fact that I am not your wife, Jav.” You crossed your arms, popping out your hip as you sassed him. He shook his head before stepping into you, holding both of his hands around your face as you looked up at him, his slight frown quickly turning into a mischievous grin.

“Yeah… but you’re fuckin’ gonna be.”

You weren’t sure what it was, maybe it was the one too many drinks you had in your system, maybe it was something in the air at the wedding, maybe it was the fact that even in both your drunken states, when you looked at each other, you knew that there was no one else in the world you wanted by your side for the rest of your life besides each other, but the kiss you found yourself tangled in was like one you’d never felt before. Something about the deep and intense passion mixed with the slow and gentle press of Javi’s whisky stained lips against yours had your heart pounding in your chest, the world seeming to stop around you. You would have kissed him like this forever- you didn’t even care if anyone stared as the two of you found yourselves intertwined in the middle of the dance floor. The only thing that was stopping you was the unison of your rasped whispers as your lips parted.

“You wanna go back up to the room?”

The both of you burst out laughing at the way your words synced, taking a few moments to compose yourselves from your hysterics as Javi looked out into the crowd at your parents and brothers.

“You sure your family won’t care?” Javi gestured over to the group, surrounding David as he ripped his tie off his neck, flinging in circles over his head.

“Javi, I would be shocked if they even knew what planet they’re on right now. C’mon, let’s go.” The grin on your face began to grow as you picked up your heels from your chair, tossing Javi his jacket and bow tie before grabbing him by the hand and pulling him out the door.

The two of you found yourselves practically sprinting down the hallway of the hotel, Javi chasing behind you as you reached the elevator. If it wasn’t for the older couple that had been standing in front of you the way up to your floor, you and Javi gave each other a playful look as if to say, you’d know I’d fuck you right here in this elevator. As you reached your floor, you followed behind Javi as he stepped out of the elevator, immediately jumping on his back, clinging to him like a Koala, trying to wrap around the width of his broadness.

“What the hell are you doing, Osita?” He laughed as he hiked you further up on to his back, beginning to carry you down the hallway towards your room.

“My feet hurt! And honestly I just kind of wanted to, it looked fun. I bet I could carry you if I really, reallyyyyy tried.” You were nothing but smiles and giggles as you ruffled Javi’s dark curls, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Well, maybe let’s not try that one tonight, okay, Hermosa?” Javi chuckled as he reached into his pocket for the room key, angrily fumbling with it as couldn’t get the door to unlock. “Why won’t it fucking work? Doesn’t this door know I need to get inside it so I can fuck my hot future wife?”

“I don’t think the door is really concerned about your wants and needs, Javi. Oh, that’s why you idiot, it’s upside down! Flip it around!” You swatted at Javi’s arm, noticing how he was trying to insert the card. With a reluctant groan, he flipped it around, bracing himself for the “I told you so’s” as the door immediately opened upon your suggestion.

“Okay, listen… I won’t say it… But just know… I’m thinking it.”

“Alright, get off you dork.” Javi shook his head as you slid down his back, crossing the threshold into your hotel room.

“Hey! That’s no way to treat your future wife!” You snickered, giving Javi a harder than expected smack on the ass as he stood in front of you. He immediately spun on his heels, hooking his arms under your thighs, picking you up and pulling you against him as your legs locked around his waist.

“Baby, I’m about to show you exactly how I’m gonna treat my future wife.” He rasped, nipping at your neck as he began to carry you to the bed, taking a few more stumbling steps than normal as he tossed you down onto the fresh, white sheets, making you squeal.

“Well… in that case… Do your worst, Mr. Peña.” You raised an eyebrow at him, your teeth biting down on your tongue as a grin grew across your face. Javi wasted no time, pulling you to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you as he draped your legs over his shoulders, hiking your dress up your thighs, sliding his hands against the soft skin on your legs as he pushed up the silky fabric. Hooking his fingers around the lacy waistband, Javi’s face liting up up instantly as he pulled down your panties, realizing what you had been wearing the whole night.

“These are new, aren’t they?” A devilish grin spread across Javi’s lips as he held up the white, lacy thong, already damp from his previous promise.

“Maybe… A little extra surprise, just for you. Only for you.” You propped yourself up on your forearms, shrugging at Javi and giving him a wink as he shoved the skimpy fabric into his back pocket.

“Fuck, baby girl. Only for me. This all for me, too?” He nudged open your knees, revealing the wet slick pooling between your thighs, gently brushing the pads of his fingertips along your entrance, collecting your arousal as he slid through your folds before pushing two fingers inside you. You gasped, arching your back along the bed as his fingers dipped into your dripping heat, pulsing in and out of you ever so slowly, luring out your response. “Tell me, Hermosa. Who’s this all for?” You could feel the hot breath of his words against your cunt as he tucked his head between your spread legs, hooking his arms around them.

“You, Javi, holy shit, it’s all for you.” You moaned, reaching a hand down to tug at the ends of his rich, brown curls as Javi licked a long, broad strip of his tongue against your heat. The pressure against your already throbbing clit had you whining, pulling tighter at Javi’s hair as his fingers set a steady rhythm with each thrust of his hand. Curling them ever so slightly, the new angle of his fingers inside you had him pressing against the spot he knew would unravel you, memorizing you like the pages of a well worn book he had read over and over again. His face was buried in your pussy, swirling circles with his tongue around your sensitive bundle of nerves, the presence of his broad frame nestled between your thighs making you cry out his name, leaving the hand unburied in his locks fisting at the bedsheets. You could practically feel Javi’s grin as he sucked around your clit, feeling you begin to clench tighter around his fingers with each thrust of his hand. His pace was relentless as he could feel you coming undone, devouring you with each meticulous movement of his mouth and stroke of his fingers. You could feel the heat creeping up your spine, your legs beginning to tremble as that all too familiar feeling built inside you.

“Oh Javi, fuck, fuck baby, I’m so close, don’t st-ahhhhhhhh.”

Pleasure flowed through your veins, as you felt yourself gush around Javi’s fingers, gripping tighter at his hair as your orgasm swept through your body, leaving you a whimpering mess as he withdrew his digits and detached his mouth, the smirk of his mustache covered in your slick as he watched you begin to catch your breath as you came down from you high.

“That’s my good girl. Always so fucking sweet when you come for me, baby. Sit up Osita, I need to take this off so I can see what’s under that pretty little dress of yours.” Pushing yourself off your forearms and onto your hands, Javi crawled over the edge of the bed towards you, pressing tender kisses along your neck and down your collarbone as he carefully slid the straps off your shoulders before his hands wandered to your back, gently pulling down your zipper. His touch made you shiver, so soft as it pressed against your skin, each moment undressing you feeling so delicate. Javi drank every inch of you in as he left you exposed, helping you to lift your arms over your head as your dress left your body. “I’ve never seen anything more fucking perfect.” He whispered, heedfully laying you down on the bed underneath him as he worked at the buttons of his shirt, shedding it to the floor before the clinking of his belt buckle led his pants and boxers to follow suit. Hovering over you, he stroked himself before caging his chest against yours, nipping at your neck as his words danced in your ear. “I wanna have you just like this, baby. Take all of you in, every beautiful part of you.”

“Kiss me.” You weren’t sure if you were begging him or demanding him, but in that moment, there was nothing more you needed than to feel Javi’s lips on yours, for your mouths to meet in an electric moment where the only things that existed were you and him. Resting his forehead against yours, you felt the gentlest nod, the strong arch of his nose brushing along the length of yours before he pressed his lips between the open slot of your mouth. You felt the swipe of his tongue along your bottom lip, his mouth swallowing your moans as he guided his length through your folds, his tip collecting your arousal before slowly sinking into you. You savored in his sweet stretch, wrapping your arms around the broadness of his back as he bottomed out into you, pausing for a moment before withdrawing and tenderly stroking back into you.

His thrusts were slow and steady, relishing in the beauty of you beneath him, soaking in every detail of the woman he loved more than life itself. There was something so intimate about the way you found yourselves, your bodies melting together as one, fitting together like a perfect pair, never again meant to be separated.

“I love you.”

Your soft murmur bringing his eyes to yours, Javi’s gaze desperate and needy as his lips met yours again, planting his palms on either side of the pillow your head was resting on as his thrusts became deeper and more intense as his hips flushed against yours.

“I love you, too. More than anything.”

You could feel the arousal pooling in your belly, building more and more present with each stroke of his cock pressing against the spot that made your mind go blank. The way he was so deep inside you, his tip brushing against your cervix, combined with the way the curls of his hair around his base brushed against your clit had you whimpering, already feeling your second orgasming building as Javi began babbling in your ear, his words only making you clench tighter around his length.

“I love you so much, Osita. I wanna give you everything, baby. I wanna marry you, put a ring on your finger- fuck- find us a house with enough rooms to fill with as many babies as you want, I wanna spend every day making you so fucking happy-ahhh, it’s you and me, Osita. Yeah? Eres todo lo que necesita.” (You’re all I need).

That was all it took to send you over the edge, wrapping your legs around the small of his back, nestling your face in the crook of his neck as you cried out his name into his soft skin, over and over again. As he watched you come undone, it didn’t take long for Javi to feel himself reach his own high, pumping a few more times into your hilt before pulsing into you, his spend coating your walls, milking every last drop of himself before slouching into you, his body draped over yours as your chests rose and fell together with each breath, laying for a few moments in the sweet silence, basking in the presence of one another. Pushing himself up, Javi hissed as he gently pulled himself out, the mix of your spend coating your thighs and the sheets below you, quicking getting up to grab you a washcloth from the neatly folded pile on the sink before bringing it back to you, carefully wiping you up before tossing it across the room to the bathroom floor.

Scooping you up and laying you across his chest, Javi wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as he could to him as he pressed a long kiss into the tangled ends of your hair, only retracting as he felt the warm huffs of your giggles against his skin, grinning at your heartwarming smile.

“What’s so funny, Hermosa? He asked, brushing away a stray piece of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Do you ever think about if you never came to do that presentation? That none of this could have never happened? That we could have gone the rest of our lives without ever meeting each other? And now here we are, in fucking Chicago, going to a wedding together, having the like, most romantic, drunk sex ever in the history of man kind? I don’t know. It’s kinda just crazy how life works sometimes, huh?”

“I guess. I don’t know…Ever since I’ve met you, I can’t imagine what my life would be like without you. I don’t want to imagine it any other way.” He cupped his hand around your jaw, cradling it as his thumb rubbed across the warmth of your smiling cheeks.

Javier Peña couldn’t fathom the idea of his life without you, and now, he was one step closer to proving to you that he never had to. After exhausted, hungover goodbyes, and a sleepy flight back to the Laredo airport, the first thing Javi did after you had unpacked from your trip and gotten into the shower was dig through the back of his sock drawer. Every day since his birthday when he had tucked it away there, he couldn’t help but to take it out and look at it, imagining how it would feel when he finally slid it on your finger and asked you to be his wife. Because in a sock, inside a sock, inside another sock, was a little velvet case that held a beautiful diamond ring that was about to be yours.

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts

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littlespoonevan · 9 months ago

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I watched the first three seasons of 911 back when that was all that had aired and just didn’t keep watching after the break between seasons for whatever reason. I also didn’t really get buddie, I just thought it was a beautiful friendship. I’m now on a rewatch and just got to the end of season 4 and boy am I all in, Buck’s reaction to Eddie getting shot and the aftermath really made me get it. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any fic recs for a buddie newbie? I’m probably gonna speed through the rest of the show in a few days and need something else to occupy me hahah

hey bud, welcome back to the world of 911!! 🥰 okay so i have some previous fic recs that i've posted here and i also have 489 bookmarks on ao3 which you can have a scroll through here (i only ever bookmark something for rereading or reccing purposes so can confirm i've read and loved them all)

but i'll do my best to make a somewhat cohesive list below of some of my personal faves. i have no doubt i'll probably leave some out accidentally but they'll definitely be in my bookmarks so 100% check those out too!! ❤️

The Nearness of You by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure

Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it. Or: Buck and Eddie go on a work trip.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania / @hmslusitania

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels /@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.

standing on the brink of emptiness by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum

In which Eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with Buck; and Buck is dating Taylor, taking care of Eddie and Christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything.

across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons

“We’re working on it,” Maddie explains, shooting Chimney a look. He nods seriously. “In couples therapy.” “Huh,” Eddie says, and then he thinks about it. "Do you think Buck and I would benefit from couples therapy?" — or, Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him.

darling, the future's better than yesterday by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. - or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.

i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys

“Everyone!” Around forty heads turn, and Buck shifts on his feet uncomfortably at the attention. “This is my old friend Buck and his husband, Eddie.” “Uh,” Buck makes, turning to Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie's looking just as stunned. “Connor, I think you got–” He cuts himself off when Eddie wraps an arm around his waist. ~ at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… they call it the season of giving i'm here, i'm yours for the taking

Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.

no kingdom to come by waywardrenegades

Family, FaceTime, guilt trips, phone calls, church, heart healthy meals, and learning how to let yourself be happy. Whatever that looks like. or; when his father experiences a health scare, Eddie flies to El Paso.

when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by catchingpapermoons

Buck walks toward Jee-Yun’s room, still talking, and Christopher trails after him, asking excited questions in response, and Eddie’s smile grows. He wants this forever. Everything, every part of it; Buck, Christopher, and him—that’s all he needs. And— Oh. Oh no. He shuts his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He’s looking at Buck, and feeling something strictly not platonic at all. or: Eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (And he falls in love with Buck along the way.)

i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove / @hattalove

She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.

everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths / @bucktommys

LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.

said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by hattalove

“I think,” he says, watching Karen pull Hen out onto the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s, “I think I’m just—sad.” Maybe. That feels like a close enough word to describe this gaping maw right in the center of his chest. It’s only really there sometimes, taking little bites out of him, easy enough to ignore, but today is worse. “About being single at a wedding,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shrugs. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.” or, the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit).

cause i'm tired of sleeping alone by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Buck goes on dates now. Not often, and never with the same girl twice in a row, but he goes on dates. And the thing is — the thing is, Eddie can’t be mad about that, because he goes on dates too. - or, five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other

so far from being free by allisonRW96

"That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible. But even if Buck was capable of doubting Maddie, the truth of her confession is evident in the way it throws every facet of his childhood into sudden perfect clarity. That yawning, arctic absence. The unnamable fear. The impenetrable target of his parents’ approval that he was never, ever going to be able to hit. That they didn’t want him to hit. He has a brother. A dead brother who has haunted Buck’s steps for his entire life."

don't let the tide come and wash us away by writerforlife

Buck develops a relationship with the ocean, avoids talking about the day Eddie was shot, realizes he might be in love, and drives. Order may vary. (a fic for the "Buck is going to break all the way down in season 6" truthers)

dance, for all that we've been through by catchingpapermoons

The Los Angeles Ballet’s 2022-2023 season ends with a bang with their fresh take on a ballet staple, Swan Lake. Artistic Director Bobby Nash is in his eighth season with the Los Angeles Ballet, and it has flourished under his direction. However, his associate, Eddie Diaz, is the one whose reimagining of the choreography has caught our attention... (or, Eddie Diaz moves to L.A. to restart his dance career, and ends up choreographing a show, finding a family, and falling in love. Not necessarily in that order.)

I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other. When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.

never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger

It’s the summer of 2022, when Buck no longer wants to be called Evan, and it only occurs to his parents to mind. It’s after the pandemic – or so they say – and before whatever hell will befall the world next, when Buck can’t wait to join the LAFD in September, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever meet someone as gently strong and fiercely protective as his big sister. It’s the summer he goes with his family to the One Eighteen Ranch & Lodge. *** A Dirty Dancing AU, set in Texas in 2022, featuring a whole lot of familiar faces in a not so familiar place.

Fragile lines (and wasted time) by Mellaithwen / @mellaithwen

“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin. But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed. “I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed. . While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.

Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania

“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests / @fcntasmas

Buck used to speed through yellow lights; now they’re his favorite part of the drive. -- or; a glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston

The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. +++ [Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)

as lucky as us by hammersmiths

One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.

#anon #asks #911 related #buddie fic rec #happy reading anon!!!#like i said this is only a tiny list in comparison to the amount i've read and loved

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year ago

Text

Cross-Country Christmas (Teaser)

Summary: After Ari is left stranded by a surprise winter storm, you find yourself wishing for a little Christmas miracle...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Holiday Themes, Smut, Arguments, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, More Warnings to Come Minors DNI

A/N: This is only a TEASER, the longer fic is coming soon. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

8:30am on Christmas Day - Bell’s Creek, Texas

“I promise I’ll be fine, Beast.” Drying your tears, you crumble up your tissues in your fist before discarding them in favor of taking a sip of your coffee. “Like you just said, there’ll be other holidays. And certainly other Christmases.”

Ari was still stuck in Omaha. And while you had suspected this call was coming, you hadn’t been prepared for how much the disappointment would affect you.

By all accounts, your Bounty Hunter appeared to be in good spirits, albeit a little tired. He was still on standby, even though all flights were still grounded indefinitely. But you’d at least been happy to hear that he’d somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep.

Not only that, but he’d also made a new friend in some guy named Clint. They apparently had a number of things in common, with the most important being that they’d both served overseas. Ari had also alluded to his new buddy being in law enforcement as well.

But if you were being honest, you’d been so focused on trying to sound positive that you hadn’t quite been able to focus on his words as much as you would’ve liked. Thankfully, Ari seemed keen on having a conversation – even if it felt a bit one-sided.

“The airline keeps offering to put us up for the night. Anyone who accepts will be guaranteed a spot on one of the first flights out.” Ari coughs softly before continuing. “However, if you’re willing to wait a little bit there’s talk about them sweetening the deal with some sort of voucher or somethin’, plus miles and all that shit.”

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, forcing yourself to take another pull of your now lukewarm coffee.

“Yeah. So, Clint and I were thinking…” He trails off, briefly leaning away from the receiver to comment on something you couldn’t see.

“You two were thinking…what?” Your next sip of coffee tastes surprisingly bitter on your tongue. Maybe you would dump out the pot and brew a fresh one.

“That we should take ‘em up on their offer and just ride this storm out. We take the points, get the voucher, and then maybe in a month or two, we go on a vacation together somewhere nice.”

“You and Clint?!” You screech, accidentally knocking over your mug in the process. “Shit!” You scramble out of your chair to grab a dish towel and hurriedly mop up the mess.

“Hate to break it to ya, baby, but Clint’s not really my type.” The Bounty Hunter chuckles into the phone. “I was talking about me and you, Bird. We can pick a destination and have ourselves a holiday do-over.”

A beat goes by before you respond the only way that makes any real, logical sense. Even though it seems to take every last bit of your resolve.

“Okay.” Your voice comes out small and resigned.

“Aw now, don’t fret. I’ll be home soon.” Ari does his best to reassure you. “And once I’m back, we will spend every waking minute making up for lost time. You have my word.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“I guess we can hold off for a little while longer.” You sniff, wishing you could just go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. “But you had better keep your promise, Beast. Otherwise I’m gonna have to track down Santa and ask him for a new man.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humor elicits a short bark of laughter from Ari which, in turn, makes you smile as well. It would be hard, but you could make it

“Try it, sweet Bird, and I’m telling you right now that I’ll have you in my truck and over my knee before you make it outta the next county.” Comes his gruff response, clearly not enjoying the image of you hanging off another fella’s arm.

You know without asking that he’s probably not kidding – so you decide to leave it alone. If he wanted to thump his chest a little, then you’d let him.

“It was a joke.” You tell him when the line falls silent. Standing, you pad towards the fridge on bare feet, stopping once you reach the doors. Yanking one open, you survey the contents, silently wondering if you should even be bothered enough to cook today. Granted, you’d already brined the turkey so –

“Joking about my replacement isn’t funny, Bird.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Especially when I can’t be there in person to plead my case.”

You blow out a harsh breath at the same time as your eyes roll heavenwards. Why couldn't he understand that you needed to crack wise here and there in order to keep from crying?

END TEASER

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snapghoul · 4 months ago

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Heyyy. I've been so obsessed with the seresin twins. They've taken over my life, and I love it.

I've got a question, though. How did Tyler react to Jake coming out? Gimme all the headconnons.

Me too, I’ve been consumed by them and I will gladly share them for those who love em ❤️

How Jake’s coming out was a lot far less rocky than he’d originally thought.

Note: writing snarky banter between Bradley and Jake is so hard like it looks cringy to me but then I remember how cheesy their banter was in the movie and I feel better about it.

Warnings: foul language, internalized homophobia and homophobia

Jake had always sensed that he wasn’t attracted to women. Growing up in a small Texas town, he had a few girlfriends, but none of those relationships ever felt right. He dated primarily to fit in, rather than out of genuine interest. While he could acknowledge that some girls were conventionally attractive, he never felt any real attraction.

His first kiss with a girl, in freshman year of high school, was a moment of clarity for him—it didn't feel right, but he initially chalked it up to inexperience. He tried to replicate the experience several times, hoping it would change.

It wasn't until college that he found himself in a situation where he almost all the way with a girl, only to back out because he felt uncomfortable and disinterested. This experience made him realize he wasn’t into women at all. It was shortly after this that he shared his first kiss with a guy, which felt more genuine and right.

He remained closeted to his parents for two years.

Jake was relieved to find that his parents were surprisingly accepting when he finally mustered the courage to come out. As he fought back tears, his mother reassured him, “I already knew, dear. As long as you find someone who loves and cares for you, I’m happy to welcome them.”

His father’s response was a bit more blunt but equally supportive: “The second they lay a hand on you, I’m grabbing the shotgun.”

Not everyone was accepting at Sophia’s wedding. A few aunts, uncles, and cousins cast disapproving glances and made hurtful comments as Jake’s boyfriend stood by his side, their arms linked. Sophia did her best to keep the comments away from Jake but in the end he experienced his first true heartbreak after that, his boyfriend breaking up with him due to the homophobia in his family.

But Tyler had always been different. He’d known something was up the moment Jake came home after his first kiss with a girl, he saw the hint of confusion and disgust in his eyes. Although he didn’t have a name for it back then, he recognized that girls weren’t for his brother. Tyler was also the first person Jake called at 2 a.m. when he was overwhelmed.

“Ty, I just—I kissed a guy, and honestly, I think I’m gay, and I don’t know what to do. Shit, Ma and Dad are gonna be pissed—”

“Jake, slow down and breathe,” Tyler said. He stayed up until 6 a.m., helping Jake calm down and reassuring him that everything would be okay.

“Ty, do you care that I might be—no, that I am gay?” Jake asked shakily, fearing his twin’s reaction.

“No, Jake, I don’t. Honestly, I’ve had my suspicions for a while, and I don’t care who you love. Remember Mr. Henes and Mr. Wright?”

“Yeah, they ran the rodeo… wait really?”

“Yup, and they’ve been married for thirty years, that explains some of the looks they got but they didn’t care! They did their thing and let no one stop them. Jake, why should it matter that you like guys?”

“I don’t know… because it’s not right?”

“No, you know what ain’t right? Telling people who they can or can’t love. That includes you. If you like him and he makes you happy, then go for it. If you feel it, chase it!”

“Christ, what kind of cheesy movie did you pull that from? ‘If you feel it, chase it?’”

“I actually just made it up. I like it, though. It can apply to a lotta things.”

Jake chuckled, and they sat in silence for a moment.

“Want to hear about the field science I’m doing? My class has us studying cloud microphysics, so I’m just walking around taking pictures of the sky. It’s actually pretty fun! I’d much rather be out here than stuck in a stuffy classroom.”

Without missing a beat, Tyler shifted the conversation from Jake’s anxiety, taking it with him and letting the moment of calm settle between them.

Bonus: Jake panics over a certain chicken.

Jake tried to keep his cool, reminding himself, Play it cool, play it cool, Jake. He’s watching! Holy shit he’s coming over!

Bradley fucking Bradshaw had an uncanny ability to fluster Jake, driving him insane. There was something about the guy that made Jake lose his composure. Jake had felt this before, but never to this extent; the way Bradley moved, talked, and just existed made Jake feel cornered. When Jake felt cornered, he relied on his greatest defense: his offense.

“Y’know, Rooster, if you’d just hop off that perch of yours, maybe you’d actually be a decent pilot. Instead, you just sit there, waiting for something that never comes.”

Bradley’s expression darkened, his frustration clear as his feathers metaphorically ruffled at Jake’s jabs.

Seriously!? Rooster?! What kind of name is that? Not cool! Not cool! Don’t piss him off! Jake thought, desperately trying to regain his composure.

Wait, why is that look kinda hot? No! No! Jake, stop it! But damn, he looks good.

Bradley’s irritation flared. “If only you’d stop leaving your wingman hanging, Hangman. Maybe you’d actually get someone who feels comfortable enough to fly with you. But hey, no one wants to fly with a wingman who hangs them out to dry.”

Jake’s jaw tightened as Bradley closed in on him. Hangman?! I don’t leave them hanging! I always come back…

Bradley’s proximity made Jake’s heart race. Holy shit—he’s much bigger up close. Jake tried to focus on not letting his growing attraction show, but it was getting harder by the second.

Bradley took Jake’s silence as a victory and gave him a hard shoulder check as he walked by. That was the moment Rooster and Hangman were born—along with Jake’s frustrating attraction to Bradley Bradshaw.

#seresin twins #jake hangman seresin #tyler owens #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #glen powell tyler owens #twisters #twisters movie #glen powell #bradley bradshaw #snapsasks

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feyhunter78 · 1 year ago

Text

Pink Pastels Pt 21

Description: After your almost disastrous encounter in the O'Hara household, you spend some time debriefing with Janey, and Miguel asks for a second date.

Pt 22

So, you what, jumped out a window?” Janey drawls, her expression both intrigued and unamused, her image freezing for a second as she moves to a part of her apartment with better Wi-Fi.

“No, I hid in his bathroom until he’d convinced Gabi to go play in her room, then sprinted into my own. Janey, it was so embarrassing, I looked like a fucking toaster strudel.”

Janey chokes on her drink. “Not a toaster strudel…”

You bury your face in your hands. “I seriously have a problem, like I need to stay away from him. That cannot happen again, it just can’t.”

A text pops up on your phone, making it vibrate.

Mr. O’Hara: Hey, I’ve been thinking about yesterday and I acted inappropriately, could I take you to dinner tonight, to make up for it? I know a place, it’s a bit out of the way, but there’s no chance anyone from Gabi’s school will see us.

You changed his name back from Miguel to Mr. O’Hara, wanting to remind yourself of the professional boundaries.

“Y/N?” Janey asks, waving her hand, trying to catch your attention.

“Yeah, sorry, anyways, I need to get a handle on myself, I swear I haven’t been this…ya know…in ages.”

Mr. O’Hara: My treat, obviously. I think I make three times what you make.

Mr. O’Hara: Shit, sorry that was rude.

Mr. O’Hara: Anyways let me know.

“I mean, technically there’s nothing in the rules that say you can’t date a parent, it’s just frowned upon.”

Y/N: I’d love to pick me up at six?

Mr. O’Hara: Absolutely, I’ll see you then.

“Yeah, but still.” You glance at the clock, it’s five ten, you definitely need to start getting ready. You pick up your phone and move into your bathroom, continuing to chat with Janey as you get ready.

Six o’clock on the dot, Miguel is at your door. He’s dressed casually, which is a relief because so are you.

He hands you a bouquet of flowers, roses, a bit basic, but beautiful. “Again, my apologies, and I’m glad you’re letting me take you out, I really do like you, y/n, as cheesy as that sounds.”

You take the flowers and quickly put them in a vase before following Miguel down to the parking garage.

It’s a long drive, maybe an hour from your place, but once you arrive you understand.

It’s a small restaurant out of the city, a bit run down, but the neon sign is bright, and you can already smell food.

“This is the best Mexican food in Neuva York and the surrounding area, my mother used to take my brother and I here on our birthdays.” He explains as he opens the door for you.

The restaurant is beautiful, hand painted murals, wood carved booths, warm lighting, and soft music streaming through the speakers hidden amongst the beams that hold up the ceiling.

Once you’re seated and the waitress takes your order, you sip on your water awkwardly. It’s been a while since you’ve been on an actual date.

“Do you like Mexican food?” Miguel asks, looking at the drink menu, his eyes darting to your face every other second.

“Yeah, yeah, my mom is actually from Texas, so we’d get Tex-Mex every time we went to visit her family. I know it’s not the same thing, but…”

“Gabi said your mom has lived in Nueva York her whole life?” Miguel’s eyebrows furrow and you bite your lip.

“Oh umm, so my mother, was born and raised in Nueva York, but my stepmom is from Texas. She married my dad when I was a baby, she’s basically the only mom I’ve actually had. My bio mother sued for joint custody when I was a kid, but I…I didn’t want to live with her. Scheduled visits were enough for me.” You explain, cursing yourself for even mentioning your biological mother to Gabi.

It was a rough day for her, after you learned about her mom from Melissa. You only told her to make her feel better, to let her know she wasn’t alone, but now you were kind of regretting it…

“I don’t talk about her much, she’s—she’s just a lot.” You wave your hand in the air dismissively and plaster on a smile.

“I thought my stepfather was my dad until I went to high school.” Miguel admits, setting down the drink menu.

“Oh?” You’re a little shocked, but hey, you’ve almost fucked multiple times, you’re close enough to share childhood traumas.

“My boss is my father, my mother had an affair with him, I have a half-sister, Monica who is a notorious gossip, but might be my best friend, maybe my only friend? I’ve got coworkers I occasionally get drinks with but…”

You giggle, half at the way he says it, half out of nerves. “Sorry, sorry, please go on.”

He gives you a sheepish smile. “It’s pathetic, I know, a grown man whose best friend is his sister.”

“No, no, I think it’s sweet.” You reassure him.

“And what about you? Siblings? Friends?” Miguel scoops some salsa onto a chip.

“I’ve got a younger brother, he’s a pilot, never around, always sending photos from exotic places, and then Janey, she teaches with me, and she’s my best friend.” You stir the queso in front of you with the spoon provided, watching as the jalapeños sink into the cheese.

Miguel nods. “The tiny black woman with the brightly colored outfits?”

“Everyone is tiny compared to you. But yes, she is short.” You defend Janey playfully, knowing Miguel doesn’t mean anything by it.

“It’s not my fault I was blessed with the stature of a Greek god.” Miguel shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You roll your eyes. “It must be so difficult for you.”

“It is, actually, do you know how many old ladies hit on me?”

You laugh at that, picturing giant, buff Miguel running from grandmothers chasing him down with their canes and walkers. “I am so sorry for your struggle.”

He laughs as well. “I appreciate it.”

“Is your mom still in Neuva York?” You ask, taking a bite of a queso covered chip.

“Yeah, I have her set up in this nice apartment, it’s quiet, she can get her groceries delivered to her if she wants, there’s a pool she and Gabi go swimming in, and she’s on the building’s HOA which is always entertaining.”

“I can’t imagine the stories apartment HOAs have to tell.”

Miguel pitches up his voice, laying on a thick Mexican accent. “Mijo you will never guess, the man upstairs, with the little dogs, a killer, the police came today, took him away. Dios nos salve a todos.”

“That means like God save us, right?” You ask, trying to remember what that Catholic dude from Law and Order: SVU used to say.

“Close, God save us all.” Miguel smiles at you, then the waitress when she sets your food down.

Your waitress’ face tints red, and you feel a wave of jealousy wash over you. You wait until she’s gone, then continue the conversation. “Wait, was he actually a murderer?”

Miguel chuckles. “No, his dogs have been killing birds, squirrels, and other small animals outside the building. He’s been cleaning them up, but apparently disposing of them in the wrong dumpster. Maintenance in the building just wanted to show him the right one to use.”

“Ah, I see.”

“My mother has a wild imagination; I think she gets bored sometimes.” Miguel says. “I should take Gabi to visit her more often but…”

“Being a secret superhero takes up a lot of time?” You joke in a hushed voice, looking around to make sure no one is paying attention.

“Exactly.” He takes a bite of his food, carnitas.

“Sure, keeps you out late, on the street, rooftops, balconies…” You trail off, taking a bite of your quesadilla.

Miguel swallows hard. “I like keeping people safe.”

You nod. “And you’re good at it, I’m glad to have a superhero living in my building.”

“Thank you.” He says softly.

For a moment, you wonder if anyone ever thanks Miguel for what he does. You’re sure people thank him when he saves them, but outside of that? When he’s just patrolling, watching over the city?

“Last time I talked to my mom, she was complaining about my dad keeps the house too cold, and that there’s nothing good on TV anymore.”

“She’s right, there’s nothing good on TV anymore.”

“There’s some good movie though, like that one that came out a bit ago, based on a comic book?” You wrack your brain, but can’t remember what it’s called.

“I only see the movies Gabi wants to see.” Miguel admits sheepishly.

“Well, good thing she’s got good taste.”

You both walk back to Miguel’s car, hands brushing against each other, pinkies almost linking then shying away at the last second.

“Thank you for this, it was nice.” You say, looking up at him, the moon a halo behind his head, dousing him in an ethereal glow.

“No, thank you, I know we’ve kind of gone about things backwards, and that you’re Gabi’s teacher, but I…I really do like you, y/n. I enjoy spending time with you, I like hearing your stories, and telling you mine…”

You take the plunge and link your hand with his. “I like spending time with you too Miguel.”

His fingers interlace with yours. “My work is having a gala in a few weeks, would you come with me? As my date?”

Janey is never going to let you live this down.

“Yeah, sure, sounds like fun.” You tell him, heart skipping a beat when he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to it.

“I’ll give you more details as I get them, but I promise it will be a night to remember, even if all you remember is my coworkers getting drunk off their asses.”

You thank him when he opens the car door for you, then he slides into the driver’s seat.

Miguel walks you to your door, lingering in its frame as you hold each other’s gaze, silly lovesick smiles on your faces.

“I should go to bed.” You say, making no attempt to break away from his gaze.

“Me too.” Miguel echoes, also not moving an inch.

“Thank you, again, for dinner.”

“It’s no problem, I’d like to do it again if you’d let me?” He tilts his head to the side, a soft smile on his face.

“I’d like that.” You tell him before you finally take a step back and into your apartment. “Goodnight Miguel.”

He grabs your wrist, gently, reverently, and presses his lips to your palm, the warmth of his face feels nice of your cold hand, the slight stubble tickles your skin, and his lips are soft. “Goodnight y/n.” Then he releases you and turns to go into his own apartment.

You shut your door, face burning. How was it, that out of everything Miguel’s done, that’s what makes your head spin a thousand miles in every direction imaginable?

He really is something else, huh?

Tag list: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @needsleep3000, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @blakeaha, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue , @marcelineormars

#meg's writing #miguel’s pastels #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #cute date night!!!#the stepmom is my TX girlies rep

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gennyanydots · 2 years ago

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Do you want a skittle, Mommy?

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x f!reader

Part of the 'Spitfire' Universe

Can be read as a standalone but makes more sense if you've read some of the other stories.

Potty training started the moment your son Eli was even slightly interested in the potty. You definitely didn’t encourage Jake to convince him that peeing in the potty was the coolest thing ever and you definitely didn’t have the rest of the dagger squad tell him the same thing every time they saw him. So the moment Eli was interested you were throwing the family headfirst into potty training. He was two. It was time. And with a new baby on the way? Yeah you needed him out of diapers. Buying one size of diapers is enough.

Potty training was easy at home. Being a stay at home mom was extremely helpful for potty training even with you being 7 months pregnant. A couple child size potties around the house and you were golden. You’re pretty sure Jake was a little jealous of his son’s toilet that sat right in front of the TV. You shut that down before Jake even thought to ask if he could also pee while watching football.

Going out while potty training wasn’t really hard either, especially if you were out with your husband’s co-workers since there was always someone willing to run Eli to the bathroom.

Your only potty training hiccup was when you had gone down to Texas for Thanksgiving this year…

Now you love Jake’s dad. Love him to pieces. He’s amazing. After all these years he’s been more your father than your actual father ever was. You couldn’t ask for a better grandfather for your son. He’s a wonderful Pop Pop to Eli and dotes on him every chance he has. Eli thinks he’s the best grandfather in the world(as long as Grandpa Mavvie isn’t in the room, then it’s a toss up to who at that exact moment is bribing him with the best stuff). You know living on a ranch in Texas is a different lifestyle than your own back in California, you just wish Pop Pop would have thought of that before teaching your son your least favorite new habit.

“Mommy! I go potty!” you hear Eli call from the living room after the song playing on the tv was paused.

You stop rinsing dishes and wipe your hands on the towel hanging from the oven door then head into the living room, “Okay buddy, let’s go potty. Maybe we could use the bathroom this time?”

“Outside!” Eli yells while racing to the back door with your dog, Radar, chasing after his little legs.

Ugh. Outside. Your son’s favorite bathroom.

Potty training had been in full swing when you last went down to Texas for Thanksgiving. Jake’s parents were both on board to help potty training while you visited. Pop Pop had taken Eli for a walk around the ranch one afternoon while you were there and showed your son how he can pee outside and since then outside has been your son’s favorite potty. Eli especially thinks it’s super cool that he and Radar now share a “bathroom”.

You’re very proud of Eli getting better and being able to hold it until he’s outside but you just wish with everything you are that he’d pee in a bathroom. A real bathroom. An inside bathroom. With a toilet.

You sigh as you walk to the backdoor and push the door open enough for your son and dog to both race outside to pee. Thank goodness you bought a house with a privacy fence. You watch your son as he strips off his shorts to go pee then you turn and gently bang your head on the door frame. You have no idea how you’re supposed to stop this. Maybe you should get him one of those fake grass patches for dogs who are inside all day.

“Sure hope you’re not hurting my best girl,” a voice from behind you says, causing you to jump and actually bump your forehead on the frame.

You groan and rub your forehead, “I wasn’t until you scared me.”

Jake fakes a pout as he walks over to you and from behind he wraps his arms under your baby bump and kisses your head then maneuvers you both so you’re facing outside, “I’m sorry, darlin’. I thought you heard me come into the house.”

You shook your head, “Sure didn’t. You’d think someone as tall as you would make more noise.”

Jake chuckled, “I’m not Rooster but if you want me to lumber about I’ll sure try my hardest for you. Anything for you, darlin’.”

You roll your eyes at your husband’s words, not that he can see, then close them reveling in your husband’s arms practically moaning as he lifted up on your belly to lift some of the pressure off your stomach.

“That sounds more pornographic than when we…”

You then hear a small voice call from your backyard cutting off his daddy’s sentence, “Daddy! Look! I’m peeing! Outside! Daddy! Look!”

“I see you, Eli. Thanks for the update. I’m sure the neighbors all wanted to hear about your bathroom habits, son,” your husband calls back to your son who grins at his father as if this is his greatest accomplishment. Jake groans against your hair murmuring about how he hopes Mr. Andrews next door isn’t watering his garden right now.

“That’s your dad’s fault you know,” you say to Jake as you point at your son who is now chasing after your dog without putting his shorts back on, completely uncaring about the slight chill in the air.

He grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, I know. And I’m trying to fix the damage he’s done. I've been asking around if anyone has any ideas on what to do.”

“Any good ideas? I mean actually good ideas. I can only imagine the things that might come out of their mouths.”

Jake snickered then shrugged, “Phoenix suggested having him decorate his bathroom so maybe he would be excited to pee in there. Maybe go online and see if there's some Bluey bathroom items or something.”

You consider it for a moment, “Not a terrible idea. Grass can’t be hard to beat. And we all do love Bluey.”

“No, I hope grass isn’t more exciting than Bluey. It’s Bluey!,” Jake says while softly swaying the two of you from side to side as you watch your two hooligans run around the backyard chasing after each other. “Payback said that his sister gave her daughter a treat every time she used the potty.”

“What kind of a treat?”

“Like a sticker, a skittle or an M&M something small like that,” Jake said as he continued to sway.

“Bribing our son to use the bathroom? He would probably like that,” you reply. You don’t tend to give Eli candy often. Well you and Jake try not to. The rest of your extended family including the Dagger squad however don’t share those same ideas. You’ve caught Payback sneaking Eli gummy bears more than once saying he couldn’t resist those green puppy dog eyes of his.

Jake nodded, “I figured. Picked up a giant bag of skittles on the way home from work. Thought we might as well try it.”

And so you did. Eli was excited to get a skittle every time he went to the bathroom. He loved getting to pick out all the fun new things for his Bluey/Spiderman/Plane bathroom. Jake loved to show off the bathroom retheme to his buddies which pleased Eli to no end because clearly if Wooster loved his new bathroom then it had to be the best bathroom in the world.

You finally felt like you had a handle on this potty training thing until you went to today’s preschool story time at your local library. Eli loved going to the library so you tried to make it to every story time.

You were a little apprehensive about this week’s story time already due to the word your son picked up from Fanboy recently when Fanboy made his feelings about Santa Claus known to everyone and said, “Fuck Santa!” due to not getting a toy he wanted. Last Christmas. When he was very much an adult. So now any time Santa is mentioned near Eli he announces to everyone listening, “Fuck Santa!”

You may have mentioned this to the librarian last week and she made sure to pick out a Hanukkah book. Thank goodness.

Afterwards, because you know not to tempt fate, you made sure to hit up the bathroom since the baby in your belly loved to play footsy with your bladder.

After your son peed you made sure to give him his well deserved skittle and then after you used the bathroom, in his adorable little voice he asked you, “Do you want a skittle, mommy? You went potty all by yourself like me!”

You chuckled and got yourself one too.

When you both stepped out of the stall a mom you didn’t know was washing her hands with her daughter.

She turned to you as you approached, “You know I didn’t have to bribe my daughter to be potty trained. Maybe your son just wasn’t ready. My daughter was potty trained in no time at all.”

You stood there for a second, flabbergasted. Who in their right mind would care that much to comment about another person’s child?

You shook it off and made sure to smile at her, “You know I might give my son a skittle for using the bathroom because he clearly earned it but at least I’m never going to have to worry about my son being nasty to someone he doesn’t know.”

From beside you came a little, “Yeah! If you jealous I got a skittle you can have one too. It’s nice to share.”

The mom scoffed at you and picked up her daughter who whined at her mom for wanting a skittle as they walked out.

You gave your son a giant kiss on the cheek for that before you helped him wash his hands.

Later that evening when you told Jake he laughed and told you he wouldn’t be so lazy all of the time and wait to go to the bathroom if he got a skittle every time he went which Eli made sure to let his daddy know that if Jake wanted a skittle every time he went potty then he would be more than happy to share his skittles with him. Yeah, no doubt in your mind that your son isn’t going to be anything but the nicest boy in town forever.

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x female reader #hangman x f!reader #spitfire universe

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dwonfilm · 9 months ago

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Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 now) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcoholism, violence, sadness.

Mentions: Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Bobby Singer, Crowley, other made-up characters to further the plot.

Here’s Part IV if you haven’t read.

Flashbacks are in bold.

Part V:

It had been about a year since Lucifer had ruined Dean’s life. At least.. he thought it was a year. Honestly? He’d given up trying to keep track of time after a month. Frankly if Sam wasn’t keeping the tally on where or when or how.. Dean had no clue. Well.. that wasn’t the entire truth. There was one thing that he could keep track of and that was the alcohol cabinet. It ran out far more often over the course of the last year than it ever had. Sam tried, several times in fact, to get his brother to sober up. Every couple months like clockwork the younger Winchester would try to pick up more pieces of his older brother’s life. Today had just so happened to coincide with that schedule. Sam sighed, walking into the dank motel room that the brothers had been sharing for a few days. They’d been in Phoenix for a couple of days and once this case had come up, Sam knew it was gonna be hard. [Y/N] was from Arizona and having to face this state without her would be hard for them, of course more so for Dean. “Did you bring more whiskey?” Dean’s words were slurring together slightly, but it wasn’t anything that Sam wasn’t used to—there was hardly a day that went by where his older brother wasn’t drinking himself to the point of blacking out.

“Dean, you can’t help me hunt this thing if you’re shitfaced.” Sam again sighed, because as much as he meant that, he knew better than to come back without the booze. He’d tried that a couple of times during the first few months of her absence. Once in New Orleans and the other in Houston. Both times had resulted in fists being thrown. Louisiana was the time where the punch connected, Dean nailing his baby brother square in the jaw—apologizing for it immediately after. Texas had him shoving Sam into the wall and holding him there before breaking down into a fit of tears. “Mhm, yeah, the hell I can’t.” Again Dean’s words slurred into one another and he pulled his hand over his face. “Sammy.. I can’t. I can’t be here knowing that she isn’t with us.. I can’t be here knowing that and be sober. I promise you I’ll lay off on it next case.. please. I can’t do it here.” Dean sighed, his voice raspy and raw with emotion. It was the most sober sentence that he’d uttered in a long time. Sam moved across the room to the bed that was his brother’s for the time being and sat on the edge. Next to it on the nightstand was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. “Dean I know this is hard but..” he paused, not wanting to push his brother but this isn’t healthy and at this rate he was killing his liver and quick. “..this isn’t what [Y/N] would want for you, man. She-“ Dean’s gaze shot upward and the bloodshot nature of his eyes was made clear.

“Don’t. Don’t use her for your own personal gain here.” Again his words sloshed together and Sam just looked at him. “My personal gain? Dean the only thing I’m trying to gain here is my brother not killing himself by drowning in alcohol. She wouldn’t want you killing yourself and making yourself more vulnerable to the shit we hunt day in and day out. I know she was your girlfriend, I know she was the love of your life but she was like my sister and I loved her too.” For so long Sam had buried his own grief, his own guilt for letting [Y/N] make that call and letting her leave, his sadness about not only losing someone he cared deeply for but living every single day to watch his brother killing himself slowly. “I promised her I’d take care of you, Dean.” Sam’s voice was just barely above a whisper. He’d expected his older brother to yell, to shove him off of the bed where they sat, to have yet another heated argument with Dean. What Sam wasn’t expecting however was the deep sigh and the shakiness of his brother’s voice when he did speak. “I know.. I’m sorry Sammy.” Dean’s voice was small, it was clear that they both had used the little bit of silence to begin crying. Another silence washed over the two brothers and it stayed like that for a number of minutes.

“I’m worried about you, Dean. I don’t say these things to make you feel shitty man, I just know she wouldn’t want this for you and I don’t want it either. Cas is working a lead that may be able to help us with getting her back, but right now we need to help these families. I’ve been going over some of these details in my head and I think it might be a witch.” Sam explained, but this only had Dean’s irritation return. “Great. We just had to come to Arizona and it just had to be a witch. Someone up there’s got a real sick sense of humor!” He shouted, looking up knowing that if the angels were still tuned in, they’d have heard him. Sam couldn’t help but sigh softly, it really seemed like the world was stacking the deck. However that was nothing new. “It’s late man, try to get some sleep. I’m gonna look some more and see if there’s something I missed—hell maybe I’m wrong.” It wasn’t likely that he was and both of them knew that. “Yeah, alright.” Sam stood up from the bed and moved over to the little table in the corner of the room. Dean reached into his bag, grabbing the same flannel he’d taken everywhere else. When it started to lose the smell of her, he’d spray it with her perfume. He’d just done so last week, so the smell was strong. Laying it between his arms he would slowly sink down to a laying position. Resting his head on part of the fabric and letting the exhaustion and drunkenness take him to sleep.

It was summer, they’d had a surprisingly quiet week. Sam was at Stanford and so the only person that Dean had except for his dad was [Y/N]. They were laid on Baby’s hood, the night slowly enveloping the daytime sky. It was a good week too, they hadn’t really fought much. Right now they’re just enjoying each other’s company and gazing up at the stars. “I think it’s so funny, we’re so small physically in the world and yet we alter it for the better almost every single day.” [Y/N] spoke softly, her [Y/E/C] eyes fixated upon the sunset overhead. Dean turned on his side to face her with a smirk upon his features. “Sweetheart we both know there’s nothing ‘little’ about me.” Dean replied, winking quickly at her. He was met with a smack to the shoulder while she chuckled softly. “Not what I meant, idiot.” She replied, turning her head to face him. Dean’s expression feigned hurt but he was smiling through the mock ‘offence’. His green eyes flicked upward for a moment to watch the sky darken. “I know, sometimes it feels like we should be welcomed into these towns with a party.” He spoke, sighing softly. “You mean like a hero’s welcome?” [Y/N] asked. Dean simply nodded. “I mean.. we probably should. If even half of the world knew what was really out there.. this entire planet would freak. People like us have been.. we’ve had our whole lives taken from us in a sense and yet we just.. keep going.” Now Dean turned his attention back to [Y/N]. “You mean to tell me you’d wanna be normal?” He asked, quirking his brow. She sighed before looking back up to the sky. “I don’t know.. I was never given the chance to know what normal looked like—this is all I’ve ever known.”

Things got quiet for a little while but Dean’s eyes kept finding their way over to [Y/N]. “If you have a question, you can just ask.” She spoke softly, not moving her gaze from the stars that were now making their appearance in the sky. He never knew how she did that—just knew what he was thinking in a way that wasn’t invasive or supernatural. She just.. knew him. “Did you.. did you think about hanging it up before you met me? After.. your dad?” Dean’s tone was soft, he didn’t bring up [Y/N]’s father much because it was obviously a sensitive subject. She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and slowly looked over to meet his gaze. “Did the thought cross my mind? Sure. I was younger, you know probably could’ve scammed my way into some college.” She sighed. “I also was distraught and sad and not thinking with much clarity. By the time you and your dad showed up, I was already convincing myself to look for work. Maybe fate brought you to me.” [Y/N] smiled as she reached over towards Dean, her hand gently cupping his face. She knew he was in his head too much, probably trying to blame himself for keeping her from a ‘normal’ life. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Dean had woken up as her lips touched his, that was a memory that he’d forgotten he had. Sighing, he squeezed his eyes closed to get rid of the tears he knew had built up quickly. Rolling over he looked at the clock. 7:45AM. Turning around he saw that at some point Sam had gone to bed. There was no way he was going back to sleep now nor did he want to, so he opted to take a shower. There was the beginnings of a headache coming on, because for the first time in.. god knows how long he’d actually taken a break in drinking alcohol. Time had gotten away from him until he heard knocking on the bathroom door. “Hey man, leave some hot water for me.” Sam spoke before walking back to the table to get back to work. After a couple minutes Dean emerged from the bathroom and took a glance at the clock. 8:45AM. He turned towards his younger brother to see him eating, a breakfast burrito on the opposite side of the table for him. “Thanks.” He spoke up before sitting in the other chair and unwrapping the food. “No problem.” He responded before taking a bite of his own food, immediately after leaning closer to his screen. “So, unfortunately, I was right. This is definitely a witch.” Sam said, using his touchpad to scroll further down on whatever he was reading. Dean groaned before taking his first bite of the burrito. While he ate, Sam went over the details of the case and where they’d have to go in order to get more answers.

They’d found the witch, who was killing people for their hearts—collecting them to use in some kind of dark spell to grant her and her coven immortality and power. Sam and Dean had located her home after noticing a pattern with where the bodies had been found by police. This house had a storm cellar and it was likely that she was taking her victims down there to extract their hearts. Despite keeping quiet, somehow the witch had been alerted to their presence. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I should’ve known you’d be on my trail.” She spoke, turning away from the woman who she’d kidnapped. “Yeah well, if you know who we are you should know this little killing spree you’re on is finished.” Dean spoke, his gun aimed at the witch. Sam had his gun aimed too and the witch turned fully to face the brothers. “Is that so?” She asked, an eery smile upon her lips. “We can spare the song and dance cause no one’s interested.” Dean spoke up again. It was clear that his nerves were at the end of their rope. Sam didn’t necessarily disagree with his brother but the tension was getting worse. “I mean, we could.. but then I couldn’t mention the fact that I have very powerful friends.” She continued. “Why would we care who your friends are?” Sam asked, confused that this was the plan to try and get them to spare her life. “I have a spell for immortality and power growth, doesn’t that make you think about what other powerful spells my coven possesses? Ones that could maybe, free trapped people?” She continued and suddenly it clicked in Sam’s brain. “Don’t.” He warned the witch.

Dean quirked a brow but didn’t turn or move, keeping his eyes and his aim on the witch. “What? You don’t want to help your brother?” She asked, the younger Winchester getting increasingly irritated. “What are you talking about?” Dean asked, which caused Sam to groan. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. “People talk, people whisper. I’ve heard all sorts of things about you two—two who used to be three.” Dean’s stomach twisted in knots. It was clear what she’d been hinting at now and it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. Sam’s protective instincts took over and he pushed his way in front of his brother. “That’s enough.” Sam warned, his nerves being pushed. However this witch knew that she was in a matter of living or dying and wasn’t going to give up so easy. “What? Hey, if you want to leave her suffer in the pits of hell.. that’s cold but I support it.” Dean winced at this statement. He spent so many nights restless, wondering what kinds of torture Lucifer was making [Y/N] endure—knowing full well that he loved the emotional side of things almost as much as the physical. “I said that’s enough.” Sam repeated, knowing that despite his older brother having a hatred for witches, he’d very likely do anything to free [Y/N]. “You think I’m just trying to keep myself alive, but like I said I know lots of powerful witches. There’s a spell out there that can help. You just have to come back with me. I help you, you help me. We’ll get [Y/N] and—“ Suddenly the witch dropped to the ground, dead. Sam had heard enough and once her name was spoken it was the final straw. Dean moved to free the girl who had almost been another victim, getting her out of there.

Six months later.

Fort Wayne, Indiana—the boys had just finished a hunt. Vamps nest was completely wiped out. After cleaning up, Sam basically forced Dean to go to the local bar. Not because he wanted anything from his brother but he knew that today marked a year and a half since [Y/N] was forced to go to hell alongside Lucifer. Staying in the motel room would only mean that Dean would get too in his head. Sam was hoping that the music and the pool alongside a bit of alcohol would be enough to keep his mind at bay, at least for a little while. Dean sat in a booth sipping his beer while Sam had gone for refills. There was a blonde who’d been eyeing Dean every so often, clearly interested in something. Seeing that he was alone she figured it was the best time to approach him. Confidently she walked over to the table, swaying her hips just a bit with each step. Once she reached the booth she paused, seeing if Dean would react in any way to her presence. About a minute went by and he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even turned his head to look in her direction. She cleared her throat which broke Dean from his daze. “Can I help you?” He asked flatly, looking up at the woman for a brief few seconds before gazing forward again. “I was just wondering if I could join you, you seem lonely over here.” She tucked some of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’ll pass.” He stated plainly, hoping that Sam would be back any moment. It was clear her confidence took a blow but she was trying to remain determined. “C’mon.. I’ll get you a refill. What would it hurt to get to know one another?” She continued and it looked like Dean was about to snap but Sam finally approached the booth. “My brother said no, so, go back to whatever you were doing.”

Scoffing the blonde turned on her heel and walked back to her table and friends. Sam slid the fresh beer over towards his brother and sighed before sitting down. “Sorry, I never thought about that.” He spoke up, lifting the glass bottle to his lips. “About what?” Dean asked, but then he clued in. “It’s fine. I never thought about the possibility either. Usually..” Now it was the older brother’s turn to sigh. Usually [Y/N] would either scare the girls off altogether, making it obvious she and Dean were an item or she’d tell them off directly—hell she’d even fist fought a couple. Sam felt bad and in this moment was questioning whether dragging Dean out was doing more harm than good. He watched as the eldest of the two took a swig of the beer he’d been handed. Time ticked, a few minutes of silence between the brothers where the noises of the bar took hold. Suddenly Sam’s phone rang, so he flipped it open to answer the call. “Hey Bobby, what’s up?” He spoke, Dean’s mind having him only paying half attention. It had been several minutes since his brother spoke and that finally had Dean’s full attention. “What is it?” He asked, the expression on his younger brother’s face unreadable. “Yeah that was Dean, he’s with me.” Sam replied, to Bobby, with Dean leaning forward to attempt to hear whatever the conversation was about but he the table stopped him from getting too close. “Sam.” Dean said sternly, trying to get the information. He held up one finger to try and get his brother to wait. ��Yeah, alright. We’ll be on our way. Bye.” Sam closed his phone and looked at his brother but the expression was still blank.

“Sam what’s going on?” Dean’s tone laced with worry, confusion and a couple other emotions. “We need to go to Bobby’s—now.” He replied before standing up and beginning to walk towards the door. Blinking a bit, the older of the two was still in a sort of a daze. “Dean! Come on!” Sam called out, which had his brother sliding out the booth and quickly catching up to his younger brother. They walked to the impala and Sam got in the driver’s side, leaving Dean to get into the passenger seat. Flicking his wrist now, Baby’s engine purred to life and the younger Winchester pulled out of the parking space and onto the road. First they had to stop at the motel to grab their stuff and check out. Sam took the duty of loading up their things while he gave Dean the key to return to the office. He’d ran the key back and thanked them for the room before returning to Sam who was just closing the trunk. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked, resting his forearms on Baby’s roof. Sam was double checking that he had everything before closing the door to the room. “Sam!” He exclaimed, causing the taller of them to turn towards his brother. “What Dean?!” His mind had been racing ever since he hung up from the call with Bobby. “Are you gonna clue me in? Why do we need to rush to Bobby’s?” Sam knew his brother was right to ask, it wasn’t like him to keep things from his older brother but it wasn’t his call—he also wasn’t sure on things. Hell Bobby wasn’t sure either. “I.. I’m not sure if it’s something and Bobby asked me to just get there, with you, as fast as we can.” He explained, fidgeting with the keys to the impala in his hand.

Dean was confused, searching his younger brother’s eyes for any kind of hint as to what was so important. He wanted to argue, wanted to push for more information but at the end of the day he trusted Bobby. “Okay.” He said, pulling on the handle and getting into the passenger seat. “Okay.” Sam mirrored, slipping into the drivers side yet again and backing out from the motel and taking off down the road. Sioux Falls was their destination and if they could make it without any stops that would be best. Dean’s mind was racing—it could be so many different things. They had so much going on that it was hard to pinpoint what issue Bobby had cracked or what he was getting close to cracking. Man their lives were a mess, a chaotic and insane mess that most humans would never be able to grasp. Sam had a firm grip on the wheel as he drove, which he’d been doing most of the time over the last year and a half. Often times Dean had too much whiskey in his system and honestly, his older brother wasn’t putting up much of a fight about it. When it came time to drive to a different state, Dean was close to the point of blacking out anyway. Most drives during this time was Sam being alone with his thoughts while Dean passed out and slept. Slept until a nightmare woke him up, or sometimes worse, a dream that felt so real that Dean forgot [Y/N] was gone. Those hit him the hardest, the realization that she was in hell along with the sobriety like an 18 wheeler running him down. Nightmares were a toss up. It was either stress and trauma from his own time in hell or it was imagining what kind of suffering that [Y/N] was being forced to endure. Sam wished he could do more, but all he could do was offer moral support and watch.

It was almost two days later by the time that Sam and Dean were pulling into Bobby’s yard. Neither of the brothers could pinpoint where it came from, or when, but their anxiety was piqued. Neither of them really knew what they were walking into but both of them basically sprinted up the steps and knocked once before walking into the house. “Hello boys.” Sam and Dean both wide eyed when they saw Crowley sitting in the living room. “W-what are you doing here?” Sam asked, Dean wasting no time and drawing his gun. “Where’s Bobby?” Dean demanded, but his question was answered immediately after when the older man walked in with a couple of books. “Dammit, boy. Put that thing away.” Bobby spoke to Dean, which had a look of confusion cross the eldest Winchester’s face. “What?” He asked, looking at Singer. “Put the goddamn gun away if you wanna get down to it. We don’t got much time.” Bobby replied, flipping through the pages of one of the books he’d brought in. “What does Crowley have to do with things?” Sam asked, to which the King of Hell laughed. His gaze shifting between both of the brothers before speaking. “Well I’m here to help you lot bust [Y/N] out of Hell.”

Author’s note: Hi! Sorry if the chapters are getting shorter, I can’t tell, but I feel like the story is still being told sufficiently. I still haven’t decided how many parts this will be but I know for the most part where I’m taking it but just wanted to add that in—I feel like the first couple chapters were longer. I guess the lengths just vary with what I’m trying to convey. Hope you guys enjoy! 😊

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester ✤ ٠ —– �� ·

#dean winchester #dean x reader #fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester imagines #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester x reader #fanfics

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 6 months ago

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A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 10

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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I wake up to the smell of bacon, croissants, and other wonderfully aromatic delicacies that I just know Nick is preparing for his wife, especially, and that I’ll be lucky enough to benefit from. I take my phone from the nightstand, check the time and do the math I’m well used to doing for my parents; it’s just after 8 o’clock, so I know it’s only seven in Texas. Despite the time, I decide to text both my parents and Jensen anyway. I send a simple ‘Merry Christmas, love you, miss you’ type message to my mom and then for Jensen I get a little more detailed.

Good morning Handsome Honey JMerry Christmas! I hope you had a wonderful night with your family And that you have a fantastic day today.BTW I’m gonna sign the paperwork…

I force myself to hit send, leaving it simple and for him to connect the dots himself. I know he will. I also don’t want to make too big of a deal out of it as we live in different states and lead very different lives. I’m still not convinced we stand a chance, but I’m willing to try. He’s quickly become the first person I think about when I wake up and the last person I think about before I go to sleep, I know I had these same feelings – falling too hard too fast – with the ‘T-Wads’ so this time I’m determined to take it slow. I am thankful for the distance for that, because this time we’ll be forced to take it slow. No moving in together after a few weeks of sleeping together, and then running across the world or country together. I’m already succeeding in that we’ve been talking for over a week already and haven’t slept together. Sure, there’s been a few innuendos, but nothing serious. A buzz from my phone drags me out of my thoughts.

Good morning, Sunshine Merry Christmas! My Christmas is already better knowing that But there is one more thing you could do to make it better…

I’m about to ask what could make it better when a video call pops up. I instantly sit up and stare at myself in the small vanity mirror above the dresser. I run my fingers through my messy bed-hair trying to tame it with little success. Disgusted with my slightly disheveled look, I let the call ring out.

Too much too fast? Sorry No, I’m still in bed Yeah, sorry Don’t apologise, I promised not to push No expectations I appreciate you signing those papers though

Feeling guilty for not answering, I quickly brush my hair and throw on a hoodie to cover my pajamas. I look back in the mirror hoping it’s better but I’m still not convinced. I sigh. He’s already seen me all disheveled, sweaty and covered in hot chocolate, coffee and cream. I accept that this isn’t as bad, yet still I can’t bring myself to hit the call button.

Do it again… Do what again? What did I do? … This?

My phone starts to buzz again, this time I answer. Jensen pops up on the screen, his short hair is spiked up in all directions as though he’s been running his hands through it. There’s also light purple bags under his eyes, but apart from that he’s exactly as I remember.

“Hey Beautiful.” I blush as I realise I’m staring – or admiring.

“Hey sleepy head,” I want to say ‘handsome’ but his sleepy look is kinda more adorable than handsome, but I don’t say that either.

“This is the best present.” He scrutinises my look for a second before continuing, “It wasn’t too much, you just didn’t want me to see you all sleepy…I bet you’d be even more beautiful like that.”

“Watch yerself, Ackles,” I hear the slight slip of my native accent the second it’s out of my mouth. I hold my breath as I watch his reaction. And by the slight raise of his eyebrow I know he heard it too.

“What was that? You making fun of me?”

I let out my breath and bite my bottom lip subconsciously. “Maybe…”

He shakes his head with a smile. “You truly are one in a million.”

“Truthfully though…I haven’t always lived in New York…” a knock on the door cuts me off. I quickly mute and silence my phone before facing it screen down on the blanket on my lap. “Yeah?”

Stella cracks the door open and peeks in. When she sees I’m awake she dives into the bed; I grip my phone tighter. “Merry Christmas, bestie! You coming to join the festivities?”

“Merry Christmas!” I say happily, but she can tell I’m distracted. She sees me white knuckling my phone.

“Oh…I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you say?” She quickly crawls back off the bed towards the door. “I’ll just be downstairs. Take your time.” She smirks and winks before closing the door.

I take a deep breath before lifting tge phone back up and turning the sound back on and unmuting myself. Jensen looks at me quizzically.

“Should I be concerned?”

I shake my head. “No, that was just my friend telling me breakfast is ready. I should go before it gets cold.”

“Yeah, yeah…Wait, you were telling me something. You’re not from New York?”

“Yeah. It’s a long story. I promise I’ll explain later.”

“Alright…Texas though, right?”

I nod my head once. With half a smile I give him one word before hanging up: “Houston”.

I’m a little disappointed I won’t know his reaction, but I’m also not sure I wanted to see it. While I didn’t deliberately lie, I did still hide it and I’m not sure how he’ll react to that. It’s not like I deliberately go out of my way to hide my accent, I just find that the locals understand me better when I assimilate, which is important in my job. That along with the acting classes and hanging out with more New Yorkers it just happened naturally over time. Now my accent mainly only shows its face when I’m half-awake, really tired or sometimes when I’m drunk; mostly when I’m feeling comfortable to be myself and don’t care about enunciating properly to be understood. Just thinking about it makes me realise how comfortable I am when talking to him, sure I was a little nervous to answer the call at first, but seeing his face and hearing his voice helped me relax almost instantly.

As I’m contemplating, the aroma from the awaiting breakfast downstairs wafts through the room and causes my stomach to growl. I just know Stella is going to have a barrage of questions for me the second I sit down, but I can’t avoid it. She’s my best friend. Deciding it’s time to rip off the bandaid – and fill my stomach – I throw back the blanket, slip on my fluffy, pink faux Uggs from Target, and make my way downstairs.

As expected, Stella gushes throughout breakfast. On the outside she’s way more excited than me, but deep down my heart is racing with excitement of what could be growing. I’m just cautious to let it bubble over, Trent and Tyler were both like this in the beginning too.

The rest of the day passes smoothly and without much event. It’s a little disappointing when I think back to the bustling Christmases of my childhood with the excitement of Santa Claus and presents and being able to eat sweets all day. But now, with just the three of us as adults much of that excitement has dulled. We still gorge out on candy canes, eggnog, and of course leftovers from Nick’s amazing Christmas Eve feast along with his fresh Christmas super feast – everything we had on Christmas Eve plus alfredo rigatoni, broccolini, and carrots – but that’s the only similarity to the Christmases of my past. This year there are no presents to open as we had all agreed with the upcoming parties and wedding, it was just too much and we are all doing so much for each other already. To pass time and attempt to make the day feel more special than just the food, we play a range of games, from competitive party games on Nick’s console to the family favourite, Monopoly. Christmas carols play as a soundtrack to the entire day, until we finish the night with a Christmas movie marathon. Three movies, one chosen by each of us; Home Alone as chosen by Stella, Die Hard thanks to Nick and finally I end the night with the nostalgic gem The Polar Express.

It’s almost midnight by the time my head finally hits the pillow. Laying in bed, I send a quick good night text to Jensen before switching my phone to sleep mode and letting the lasting effects of the eggnog – and the few accompanying glasses of wine after the eggnog ran out – lull me to sleep.

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Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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daisyful-gvf · 2 years ago

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✿ little wing ✿

part 3

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

pairings: jake x reader

word count: 7.5k

notes: finally!! god i love this chapter. and i can’t wait for the next :)

warnings: sexual situations, marijuana use, drinking, angst :(

playlist (which i’ve become rly attached to lol)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

-✿-

You’re insane if you think The Beatles are better than Cream

You laugh to yourself at his message. It’s a very Jake thing to say. Your answer is playful:

i think you’re just stubborn

It’s been nice texting Jake here and there. During the long stretches in the cramped sprinter van, between braiding Violet’s hair and plucking absentmindedly on your acoustic, it’s an exciting little activity. He’s witty, and also somehow awake most hours of the day.

That could be. But consider this:

He sends a Youtube link to a live performance of Crossroads, and you know before you even listen that he likely has you beat. You watch it anyways and smile at the thought that he shared it with you.

alright, i’ll concede

You answer. After another moment you add

for now

“What’s that about?” Paisley’s voice catches you off guard in the seat row in front of you. Her eyeliner is still half on from the show the night before, and she rubs at it as she smiles at you, “The giggling at your phone. Jake?”

If you act surprised, she’ll see right through it. You just nod, and try not to blush too hard. She offers you a knowing smile and you wave her off.

“I’m just saying…” she laughs and plays with the wooden beaded bracelets on her wrist.

“Well don’t,” you smile and pick up your guitar again, putting Jake out of your mind for a moment.

“Come on,” she grins, “What’s going on?”

The air seems stuffy in the van suddenly, so you crack a window. The summer Texas air is inviting on your skin and through your hair.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, “Truly, I don’t. I think we’re just friends, I think…”

She gives you an anticipatory look as you gather your thoughts.

“He’s a flirt, but he seems to tone it down with me. I think he’s just being nice. Professional, even.”

Whether or not she means for it to, the boisterous laugh that comes out pangs at your chest. As your face falls and you resort to playing a riff on the acoustic, she notices.

“Hey,” she soothes, “I’m not trying to be mean. I just wish I should shake some sense into you.”

You raise your brow at her as you play.

“I don’t know that even if I spelled it out for you, that you’d get it, babe,” she says gently, “But if he’s making you happy to be around, go with it.”

“Just don’t leave us in the dust for some rockstar dick, please,” Carol chimes in from the front. She gives you a wicked grin and then smacks her gum.

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes, “It’ll never be like that.”

Paisley reaches over and ruffles your hair before she turns to lay her head against the window, and then you’re left with your own thoughts again. The buzz of your phone on your thigh startles you.

What do I get for winning? :)

You roll your eyes at his cheeky message.

well, what do you want?

He reads the message instantly, and after about a minute of silence your stomach starts to knot.

And then it hits you. You’re in it. You haven’t felt nervous over a text from someone in god knows how long, and it’s almost embarrassing how plain it is for yourself to see. And maybe, it’s not such an insane thing to like him. Maybe you’ll let yourself see where it goes.

Smoke with me again?

You don’t notice you’re smiling at it until your cheeks ache a bit.

if you insist, kiszka

The beds of your nail starts to bleed as you chew at the skin anxiously. You send the next message with your breath held:

time & place?

He answers quickly

After the show? I think our hotel’s right across from the venue. Meet me at the lobby bar?

Trying your best not to overthink it, you reply

see you then. good luck with the show tonight! big crowd.

Oh yeah? You think I need luck?

Your stomach turns at the playfulness of his response.

so humble, you are

The bubble of ellipses taunt you for a moment as he answers.

;)

You stare at the small winking face for a while before you decide it’s probably bad for your cardiac health, and set the phone face down on the seat. The Texas wind knots your hair, but you smile as the breeze hits your face.

-✿✿✿-

You find yourself in a trance as you watch the crew pack up Greta’s equipment from the side stage. Fog still curls through the edges of the room from the machines. After you let yourself watch for a bit, you take a deep breath and make your way back to the girls.

Outside by the van, you find Violet with a leg propped against the small metal barricade, puffing on a cigarette.

“Hey,” she says gently, “We’re gonna go get pizza I think. Coming?”

You lean into her and give her a sloppy half hug, shaking your head, “M’gonna go hang out with Jake for a bit if that’s alright.”

She grins like a cheshire cat and puts her cigarette out on her heel of her docs.

“It’s sweet, y’know,” he clears her throat.

“Mm?” you shuffle your feet around, acting oblivious.

“I can tell you like him. It’s sweet.”

You shrug and lean against the barrier, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She laughs softly and leans next to you, “You don’t have to, that’s the fun of it. Just see where it goes.”

Her words seem so obvious, yet so hard to abide by in the moment.

You nod anyways, and then stand back up, stretching your hands up into the warm evening air. The crop top you’re wearing exposes your stomach to the breeze, and it’s unexpectedly grounding.

The rest of the girls round the corner and motion to Violet, and she leaves you with a soft wave and a smile.

After a deep breath, you turn on your heels and begin to walk around to the front of the venue, making your way to the hotel. The streetlights are warm orange against the dark sky, and it comforts you in an odd nostalgic way. The hotel is nice, a tall, shiny building, just a block away. You enter the lobby with your breath held.

He’s laughably easy to spot in a crowd. He’s in a black cutoff tank, and his brown hair spills in waves over his shoulders.

You approach the bar slowly and tap him once on the back. He turns with an already gentle smile on his face. He never seems caught off guard.

“Hey, little wing,” he grins and turns to bring you into a side hug,

You head reels, all at once hit with the smell of him, the warmth of him. In your head, his voice echos:

little wing

If he didn’t have a soft hold on your torso, your knees surely would buckle.

“Little wing?” you try to sound casual as you slide into the barstool beside him.

He nods, then is quiet for a moment as he adjusts back onto his stool.

“Seems fitting,” He finally says, taking one of the final sips of his drink, “That alright?”

You hum your approval, trying desperately to relax.

“I don’t have a nickname for you,” you blurt out.

He shrugs and signals the bartender for his tab, “You’ll think of one m’sure.”

“You want one?” your smile is genuine.

He smiles at his drink and takes the final swig, then shrugs as he sets it down and swallows. His eyes finally meet yours. “If you wanna give me one, yeah. ‘Course.”

“Hmm,” you bite your lip, “I’ll get back to you.”

He nods and takes the check from the bartender, exchanging his card and finally signing the receipt before he motions to you to exit.

You follow him across the white tile floor of the lobby to the elevator, where you’re met with a silence that is shockingly comfortable. Finally, he breaks it.

“Have a good show tonight?”

He’s standing in the opposite corner of the elevator, waiting your answer intently.

You nod, “One of the better ones actually. You?”

Instantly, he’s smiling, “Yeah, I felt good tonight.”

After you nod, he continues, “I watched your set.”

The comment makes your chest flush. You try to remember that he’s just a musician after all, too.

“And?” you bite your lip nervously.

The steel elevator doors creak open and he gives an ‘after you’ wave of his arm. He exists, then leads the way down the red-carpeted hall.

“I enjoyed it,” he answers, turning slightly to you as he walks, and he fidgets with his rings, “Your band is talented, that’s undeniable.”

You smile, thinking of the girls. The bond you all have is intense, and you can’t help but be proud on their behalves from the compliment.

“You especially,” he grins as he tugs his wallet from his jean pocket and retrieves the key card.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes.

“I’m biased, as a fellow guitarist,” he opens the door and lets you in, “But I’m serious. It’s good.”

You spin to face him once inside, once again taken by the slight smell of shampoo and moisture from his pre-show shower.

“Thank you,” you say genuinely, “Really.”

He hold eye contact as he nods and smiles, and you suddenly don’t feel so on edge. He’s sweet.

“So,” he drums the tops of his thighs and moves to sit on the bed, “You were crazy for trying to argue The Beatles over Cream, y’know. You had this coming.”

You laugh, turning to make your way to the couch, and then—

There is no couch. Just the king bed, large and white in the middle of the room. Your cheeks heat.

“You good?” He asks, as you’ve fallen silent. Your head whips back around to him and you nod.

“You’re gonna make your whole room smell like weed, y’know,” you say, trying to talk yourself into normalcy.

He shrugs, “I don’t care. Better weed than stale hotel.”

You smile and make your way to the edge of the bed. You sit on the very corner, unsure of what else to do. He giggles, you’re pretty sure at your nervousness, but then he gets up and goes to his bag that sits on the desk.

Out of it he retrieves his metal tin and a lighter. He also pulls out a small bag of starbursts, and when he makes his way back to half-lay on the bed, he extends the yellow package to you with his eyebrows raised.

“M’good,” you smile. He nods and sets them aside, opening the metal tin and pulling out a pre roll. He lights up quickly, and the smell calms you instantly.

“You can lay down if you want,” he rasps as he holds in the green hit, “M’not gonna bite.”

The laugh that trills out of you is loud, and it makes him giggle in response.

“I’d hope not,” you try to ease the tension, and then let yourself lay down. You face each other, propped up on your sides a few feet away on opposite sides of the mattress.

He hands you the joint and after you take it, he plops flat onto his back, sinking into the weight of the mattress. His eyes flutter shut for a brief moment as you inhale.

When they open, his eyes a bit sleepy, he feels his pockets for his phone. You watch him scroll through it as you take another deep hit, and then finally he sighs and sets the device aside.

“I know I said I don’t usually watch movies when I smoke, but I’m not really feeling music right now,” he says. He stretches for the remote on the nightstand, revealing a strip of his stomach above his jeans that makes you blush. “That okay?” he asks.

Nodding, you cup your hand under the joint as the ash accumulates. He notices and gets up to grab an empty cup from near the ice bucket, passing it to you as he settles back onto the bed. This time, he lays up by the headboard, an arm stretched up behind his head casually.

He looks so good. A glimmer of hope crosses you, that maybe he will take this further.

“You wanna pick the movie?” He says, clicking at

the remote, stealing you from your thoughts.

You shake your head, “Go ahead.”

He bites his lip absentmindedly, and yeah, this is bad for you. There’s no denying that you want him, but you know yourself, and you can’t make a move first.

“Pirates?” He smiles at you and points to the TV with the remote.

You swivel your head to find Johnny Depp’s charming, dirty face grinning at you. After a short laugh, you nod. Jake nods back.

Passing him back the joint, you roll to lay on your stomach, parallel to him.

“How you gonna watch the movie if you’re faced this way?” He smarts. You shrug, swiping your hand along the soft plush of the comforter.

“Maybe I just wanna lay here,” you counter.

“Fair,” he puffs on the joint. There’s smoke in the air now, clinging to the mild humidity that seeps in from the summer evening, “So when did you start playing?”

“Guitar?”

He nods, hitting it again.

“Mm,” you ponder, again and again brushing your hand over the fabric, “Maybe twelve or thirteen?”

He nods and passes you the joint. As he holds the smoke in his lungs, he rasps out, “It shows.”

You can’t help your eye roll—while it’s very polite of him, it’s comical in some way that you feel such validation from it.

“What?” he giggles.

“Nothing,” you laugh, “Nothing, thank you.”

“You have a favorite song to play?”

“On stage?”

He shrugs, “Anywhere.”

You scoff, “You should know that’s an impossible question.”

His giggle is effortless, and he shrugs again, “Maybe. Try.”

Taking your last hit, you answer him upon exhale, “Right now? Maybe Red House.”

“God,” his smile is wide and toothy as he takes the joint back.

“What?” You blush at his response.

“Nothing,” he parrots your earlier response, “Good song.”

“You?”

He finishes off the joints and puts it out in the bottom of the cardboard cup; likely a fire hazard, but one that will be disregarded. He pops another starburst into his mouth.

“Right now it’s Orchid,” he smiles, as he talks around the candy “But it changes about every three days.”

“Mm,” you hum in acknowledgement. A gentle silence blankets the room, and in the background, Pirates plays on. You stare are your fingers, mostly, as they play with the edge of a down pillow now. Jake’s eyes flit between the screen and you.

It’s quiet for maybe ten minutes before he finally speaks, his voice now a little more hoarse.

“Wanna drink?”

You look up to him. His eyes are heavily lidded, and he looks relaxed. Only after you’re looking somewhere other than your hands do you realize you’re starting to feel the weed. You nod.

“Like water, or like whiskey?”

Blinking at him, you can’t bring yourself to decide.

“Whiskey it is,” he laughs, “Took too long, silly girl.”

Unable to help it, you bite your lip at the name. It’s laced with affection, or at least you’re pretty sure.

He slides off the bed easily, his jeans making a soft noise against the comforter. You don’t know how he’s always in jeans; perhaps for the aesthetic. The moment your set had ended earlier, you opted for some soft, flowy pants and a cropped shirt to cope with the temperature.

“Just one,” he’s handing you a can before you know it.

“This is soda,” you furrow your brow. He giggles.

“Not just,” he eases the can toward you, “There’s no more cups in here. I poured it in.”

The smell hits you then; the sweet dark liquor mixed with the sugary cola smell. It’s enticing.

You take a heavy swig, and yeah, he was right. He settles back on the bed, feet crossed, back against the headboard. You’re still parallel to him, you head about in line with his waist. As he sips from his drink, he plops his right hand down on the bed freely.

Quickly, his bracelets catch your eye. There’s four, a couple metal and a couple textile. You wonder how he came to have them, and why they all look like they’ve been on him for years.

“These old?” You ask, reaching up to tap one. Your fingertips brush his wrist, but he doesn’t flinch. Unable to think better of it, you continue to toy with one of them. It’s braided cord, very worn, frayed at most edges. Your trace the braided pattern over and over, occasionally bumping his skin. The feeling is electrifying, like you’ve just held hands with your childhood crush for the first time. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Mmhm,” he answers. He takes another drink and then watches you play with it.

“Tell me about them,” you touch another one, a thin silver chain with a small gem pendant.

He takes a soft breath.

“Well. The cord one is from Josh. I’ve had it on about a year. Guess he thought it ‘suited my aesthetic’ or whatever,” he chuckles to himself, “The silver one is from my sister. Think I’ve had that one for three or four years.”

You nod and spin it around his wrist, all but holding his hand at this point. The weed has left you without embarrassment as a crutch, and it feels nice to let your fingertips skirt over his skin.

You point to another woven one, a blue and green friendship bracelet.

“That one is from some gas station in Michigan. A few months ago, before this tour started.”

You nod at his answer and point to the last one, a solid silver bangle with a small, ancient looking symbol.

“From my dad,” he smiles, “No idea where he found it. But I love it.”

The bracelets and your fingers graze his skin gently, and you wish you could stay in the moment forever. It’s tender, and it feels safe. You spare a glance up at him and he’s looking at you like he feels the same. Somehow, it’s more intimate than if he were to just kiss you.

“How bout you, hm?” He lifts his wrist and taps the small woven bracelet on your wrist, “Good story?”

“We all have one,” you say, and then realize that you’ve given very little context, “All the girls. Violet made them in the van during one of the rides in between shows.”

“That’s sweet,” he says softly. If it were anyone else, you’d think they were making fun of you. But not him, with the way he says it.

You nod and keep playing with the bracelets on his wrist, spinning them around and around, tracing them. You’ve mesmerized yourself with them. Eventually, the hair tie on his middle finger catches your eye, and you trail your finger down to circle that. His hand twitches slightly under your touch, but then relaxes.

It’s a natural progression, or at least it feels that way, as you begin to trace up and down his fingers with the nail of yours. The touch is gentle, and you intend for it to be soothing. Just when you’re unsure if it’s too much, and you consider stopping, he murmurs,

“Feels nice.”

You look up and his eyes are closed, his head leaned back against the wall. You take the cue and continue to trace over and over the tan skin with care.

Finally after five or so more minutes, you peek back up at him, and he’s grinning at you.

“Hi,” he barely gets it out before he giggles. You laugh back.

“Hi,”

“I’m high.”

“I had no idea,” you burst into an uncontrollable laughter at the sight of him, eyes heavy. He laughs with you.

“Feels nice,” he says again, though you’re not sure now if he’s talking about the high or you touching his hand.

Your arms tired from propping yourself up, you slouch down against the bed, your hair brushing over his hand. Quickly, you realize you’re cold.

“Cold,” you get out, rubbing the goosebumps over your arm. He lifts his hand to skirt a finger over your arm and feel the goosebumps.

“Get under the blanket,” he says, as if you were dumb for not thinking of that solution. You eye him hesitantly, unsure if you should be reading into this.

“Little wing,” he sighs, affectionately rolling his eyes, “Just get under the fucking blanket. You think too much.”

A little shocked, you laugh, but do just that. You slip off the bed and he does the same, and as you both sink under the plush of the down comforter, you realize how close you are.

For a bit you try to focus on Davy Jones and Will Turner, but then the high leaves you craving to touch him, and you can only ration with your brain in its dazed state for so long. You’re pretty sure he won’t freak out, so you let your head fall against his shoulder.

You can feel and hear him inhale, and you brace yourself for rejection, but all he says is

“C’mere,”

It’s soft, and he’s easing his arm behind you, allowing you to sink into his side if you wish. You look at him, and he’s close, and he still looks very high.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we just cuddled,” he says quietly, “S’no big deal.”

You wish he hadn’t said that, because you wish it could be a big deal. You wish it could snowball, with hands and lips everywhere, a culmination of all the little moments. But if he’s letting it be casual, so be it, it’s better than nothing at all.

Like you’ve just crawled through the desert, and like he is a pool of cool water, you fall into him, slotting perfectly against his side. His arm comes around you and rests on your waist.

“This okay?” He murmurs, barely audible over the TV and the blood rushing in your head. You nod against his chest. “You high too?” You nod again. “Good,” he says quietly.

Try as it might, the movie doesn’t hold your attention whatsoever. All you can focus on is the soft rise and fall of his chest, his body heat, his fingertips and their gentle pressure on your side.

It’s unclear when you drift off. When you wake, the TV is playing some 90’s sitcom at a soft volume. The blue glow from the screen washes over Jake’s face, which you’ve propped yourself up to look over.

He looks dreadfully sweet—lips parted slightly, eyelashes creating small shadows in their wake. His hair is messy, like he raked his hand through it shortly before dozing off.

Your eyes land on the digital clock on the nightstand to his side, where the time glares red: 3:34. Jesus christ, you have to be on the road at 7:30.

One last time, you look at him. The irrational part of you, the part of you that craves warmth, wants to curl back into him and say fuck it. But a few deep breaths later, you know that’s not what this is.

Carefully, you try to slip out from under the comforter, shivering as you slide the cover off your torso.

“Hey,” his soft voice breaks through the night air.

Blinking, you turn to make quick eye contact. He’s rubbing one of his eyes, stretching.

“I don’t know when I fell asleep,” you chuckle softly, “Sorry.”

“No,” he shakes his head and plops his hands back into his lap, “S’fine, I did too. You…”

He looks like he wants to say it, too: stay. Or maybe you’re delirious from the late hour. But he chews on his bottom lip a moment, and then pick back up,

“You gotta leave early too, huh?”

You nod, and he nods back.

“Let me walk you down to the lobby,” he murmurs, sliding one of his legs from the comforter. Then he stills.

Suddenly, like a wave of nausea, you are hit with an emotion so unpleasant you fight tears.

If he doesn’t do something now, with you in his hotel bed during the witching hour, craving his touch and so clearly willing, maybe he never will. Maybe it’s just not like that, and this intense and well-fed crush you have is girlish and dumb.

“It’s fine,” you choke out, quickly putting your feet on the ground and searching for your sandals.

“No, I can—“

“It’s fine,” you reiterate, finally kicking on your other shoe and pivoting to the door.

“Hey—“

“Goodnight, Jake,” you get out, hand finding the room door in the dark only based on the rectangle of light coming from the hall.

“Little wing, hey—”

It’s the last thing you hear as the door latches behind you, and barely three steps into the hallway, the hot tears roll down your cheeks.

The bartender in the lobby gives you a concerned look as you rush out the front doors, where you walk a far too long twenty minutes back to your own hotel room.

When you sink into the bed next to Paisley, head pounding, sleep takes you quickly.

-✿✿✿-

In the stark light of the morning, with your head against the bus window, Paisley nudges you about twenty minutes into the drive. Her grin is devilish as she whispers,

“Why’d you come back to the room so late?”

Her look is expectant, much like you were last night. You answer her shakily

“Just lost track of time. Nothing happened.”

She nudges you again and says, “Okay,” with a knowing tone. Instead of arguing, you let your head fall back again my the window. Two more tears escape you before you fiercely wipe them away, determined not to let it get to you. He’s just a boy.

-✿✿✿-

You really should have just gone to the hotel tonight. The lack of sleep from the night before plagues you still after the show, especially on the adrenaline comedown.

But in the spirit of touring, you are convinced by Violet to accompany them to a bar, where you throw back a second vodka cran quickly and accept a hit of Carol’s cigarette.

And then there’s Jake. You can’t quite manage to peel your eyes away from the girl on the bar stool beside him. Her and her charming little grin, the way you can see her lipgloss sparkle from across the way.

Most infuriatingly, the way that Jake gives a wolfish grin back, and his eyes seem darker as he turns to her. The final blow is a flash of his hand skirting over her thigh, dancing over her skin.

Your head snaps to Paisley, “I need a fucking shot.”

She scans your face and seems to sense the panic, but like the sweet being she is, she places a gentle hand on your shoulder and gives a reassuring smile.

“Thought you’d never ask. Lemon drop? Green tea?”

Your head is shaking before her questions are over.

“Whiskey.”

She nibbles on her bottom lip and looks at you, and softly, she starts, “You okay?”

You shake your head again and she nods, going to fetch the shots as you take a shaky breath.

After one more fleeting glance at Jake, with his hand trailing over and over her knee, you swear it off the rest of the evening. There’s nothing you can do; there’s no need to stare at him and cause yourself misery.

“Cheers,” Paisley’s voice is in stereo as she swings around your right side, plopping 4 whiskey shots on the bar table in front of you. “Girls,” she says to get the other’s attention, divvying up the shots.

“Whiskey?” Carol scowls, holding it up in front of her.

“Oh hush,” Paisley smarts, “I said, cheers!”

You clink shot glasses and throw it back, willing the tears away in your eyes. The burn of the liquor does just that, and when you slam the glass down, a small smile finds its way to your face.

When you meet Paisley’s eyes, she’s giving you an inquisitive look. She must read your face.

“I’ll go get some more,” she says, turning back to the bar. You nod and take a sip of your third drink. You can absolutely feel it, so you should probably slow down, but it’s helping squash the anger that had bubbled up in you.

After Paisley returns with the second shot, and after it trials a warm path down your throat, you give her a wide smile. You feel fuzzy and nice.

“There we go,” Paisley giggles and tussles your hair, “Better?”

You nod, giggling.

“Good,” she smile. Her next words are softer, “Forget about him, babe. He’s an idiot, and you’re a hot rockstar.”

She means well, but it makes your chest ache a bit. You push it away with a nod as she pats your shoulder.

Not long after, the room spins. You really should have seen it coming, perhaps you even did, but it hits all at once.

“Paisley,” it slurs out of you, “Gotta go outside.”

Her hair whips everywhere as she spins her head to look at you, her eyeliner smudged and her eyes heavy from the presumable weed she smoked in the bathroom.

“Need me to come?”

You shake your head, giving her a salute as you back away.

“Be safe,” she points a serious finger at you, “Go straight to the hotel.”

Nodding, you make a swift exit into the warm air of the night. You’re somewhere in the desert now, and the air is dry and cool. You inhale it as deep as you can as you watch the neon from the bar signs across the street flicker. They’re pink and green, and it feels like outer space, which makes you giggle.

Willing the nausea away, you begin the short walk to the hotel, and try not to think about Jake. Inevitably, your inebriated brain does not listen, and you’re stuck between wanting to hate him, and wanting his hands all over you.

It’s still on your mind as you open your hotel door, as you slip inside the room and kick off your boots. You stare at the hotel bed, the empty, glaring white sheets. And you don’t want to lay in it alone.

Instead, you squint to look around the room for the ice bucket. You’ll waste some time getting ice and a drink from the vending machine, and perhaps by then, your mind will settle down.

Slipping the key card in the pocket of your denim skirt, you enter the hallway, barefoot and pleasantly drunk. You trudge to the ice room, offering the empty bucket to it for filling. Unable to resist the urge, you pop one of the cold cubes into your mouth and crunch. It’s refreshing, and you smile to yourself as you make your way back out.

There’s a figure in the hallway, about half way down and blurry, and you wonder to yourself for a moment if it really is him, or if you’re that drunk.

You turn to disregard it, to head to the vending machine, but sure enough;

“Hey.”

His voice is warm, and so wonderfully gentle. You hate how gentle it is.

You turn back, against your own will. And there’s Jake, wandering the few feet down the hall to you, dragging his hand through his messy hair.

“Hi.” You answer back, popping another ice cube in your mouth. He stops a few feet ahead of you and gives you a once over, and that shit eating grin appears on his face.

“No shoes?” He nods down at your feet.

Swallowing the water in your mouth, you nod and hold up the bucket, “Just wanted ice.”

He nods and rubs his hand over his flushed cheek. He’s drunk too.

“Wanna come in? I have drinks in the mini fridge,” he jabs his thumb in the vicinity of his hotel room.

You are silent for a long time, far too long for a normal conversation. You’re attempting to weight all of the options: should you, shouldn’t you, who cares, should you care, etc, until finally he breaks the silence:

“I’m just offering you a nightcap, I’m not gonna eat you alive, doll.” He smirks, and jesus christ, you wish it didn’t make your stomach turn the way it does.

You try to stay upset at him as he winks. Reluctantly, with an eye roll, you move to follow him to the room. He holds the door open wordlessly.

“Did you have a fun night?” you ask with a tone, walking in and setting the ice bucket on the desk. Might as well get the dig in before the liquor catches up to you fully, and you’re too drunk to be witty.

He nods and throws his phone and wallet on the bed, “You?”

You give a curt not back.

“You want a drink?” He offers.

“No liquor,” you sigh, “Already drunk.”

He nods and starts to fetch a sprite from the fridge, cracking it open as he hands it to you. His hands are large, you notice for the hundredth time. His fingers are long.

“So, why’d you ask like that? He says, reaching for his own soda. You step close to him, probably too much so, but it’s like he’s got his own god damn gravitational pull. When he comes back up from the fridge, you’re a few feet away.

“What?” you ask.

“How my night was,” he clarifies, cracking his soda can open and leaning with one arm against the hotel furniture. He takes a long sip.

You shrug at his question, “Just seems like you had a fun time,” you raise your brows and take another sip. You’re being petty, but you don’t care.

He studies your face for a moment and scrunches his brow down, pressing his lips together. After a second, he shakes his head,

“Just say it, whatever it is you’re not saying.”

You blink at him. You should leave, probably. But the words pour from you before you can stop. You set your soda down on the desk with some level of aggression. He sets his down too, softer.

“You played with my hair,” you say, emotion creeping up in your voice.

He watches you, his lips parted, his drunk mind trying to understand what has just come out of your mouth.

“You said I have a sunset aura. We fell asleep together.”

The thoughts are disjointed, but it’s what comes to your mind.

“I thought you liked me,” you finally get it out—the meat of what you’re trying to say. You feel embarrassed, childish and petulant, “I thought—”

Your throat begins to shut as tears start in your eyes. The embarrassment is combusting into anger, fueled by the alcohol.

“I thought—”

“I do,” he interjects before you can say it again, “I do like you.”

You’re in stunned silence for a moment at the admission, but then the words find you.

“Then why the other girl?” You force the words out through your tight throat, though they wobble, “Why—why do that when I was in your bed last night? You had me.”

He winces at that, barely, but you see it. He licks his lips and furrows his brow more, standing with a hand hooked through one of his belt loops. He doesn’t seem angry, though, maybe confused.

“Little wing,” he sighs finally, with such a genuine regret in his voice that you almost soften, “I don’t know,” he rubs his face over his hand, “I just flirt, I don’t—”

“You could flirt with me,” you know it comes out harsh and borderline desperate, but the liquor has ripped down your walls, and your frustration is glowing hot at the surface.

“It’s not just that, I just—,” he sucks in a breath and shakes his head, “I’m fucking drunk, doll, I don’t—“

“Spit it out, Jake,” you have no patience for niceties.

“I just wanted a hook up,” he blurts, “But I didn’t, I mean, obviously, I’m here,” he holds his hands out at the room, “I just—”

“What is this, Jake?” Forget soft, you’re angry now, “You like me but don’t want to hook up with me? I didn’t ask you if you wanted to be friends, I asked if you like me—”

“I do,” His voice is soft and his eyes are sad, and as he says it, he steps forward and touches your cheek. Try as you might to maintain your anger, the touch takes your breath. You want it: you want him to be soft with you, to touch you like that.

“I do,” he repeats as he strokes over your cheek with his thumb, gentle as a breeze, “You do remind me of a sunset. Little wing, I fucking—” he laughs, breathless, and you can do nothing but watch, “I’m damn near obsessed with you.”

Out of your stunned silence, you manage a hushed response, “Then why not me? At the bar…I…your hand…”

He shakes his head solemnly and strokes your cheek again, “Because I don’t—I don’t know how to do that, doll. I don’t really…I just usually fuck girls and then that’s it. I’m not really used to much more, y’know, with the touring, and,” he sucks in a breath, collecting himself, “And I don’t want to do that with you.”

“I…” you search for words that never come, “Jake…,”

“You’re too sweet,” he’s suddenly so close, leaning in with whisky on his breath. His cheek nuzzles yours, “You’re so fucking…sweet, fucking beautiful, and feminine,” his lips drag over your cheekbone, “talented, special, pretty little thing…”

“Jake…” it’s all you can manage.

“And I can’t…” he nips at your jaw and your head is spinning, “Fuck, I can’t do… that… to you,”

“Why?” it comes out as a whimper, “Why can’t we?”

You can’t bring yourself to care about any of his cryptic warnings: you just want him.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t—I’m drunk, this isn’t—“ His hand leaves your jaw and he pulls away.

You tighten your fist into his jacket lapels, strangling the black leather fringe, and he suddenly comes to, his eyes locking on yours.

“What are you scared of?” You bite out.

He sucks in a breath and his eyes scan over your face.

“I’m drunk, doll, I really…we should really talk when I’m not.”

“Why? So you can phrase it better? Just say it,”

He licks his lips, “I don’t want to mess this up. I like my time with you, I like how we just…how easy it is. It’s sweet. I don’t wanna ruin it. I don’t wanna fuck and then never talk again, or make it all complicated, or…” he shakes his head, “I just wanted it to stay sweet.”

The admission is gentle, and you ease up on him, speaking softer.

“I didn’t take you as careful.”

“It’s just you, little wing,” his eyes scan your face, soft brown and kind, “Just with you.”

The silence invites a palpable tension, suspended between both of your anticipating glances.

As precautious as he speaks, it seems his body cannot help but surrender to the temptation, and he leans in again. Feather soft, his lips brush yours. You can feel his breath, and the scent of him is dizzying.

“M’sorry,” he’s slurring suddenly, “I’m—um…” he falls silent and he moves to rest his forehead against your temple. You can feel his shaking breath.

Your heads are pressed together, breathing against each others necks. In your chest, your heart is a drum.

You know you should be sorry too; this isn’t how you want to kiss him for the first time. But he smells so good, and his skin is warm, and his hands on your waist are making your spine tingle, and you can’t care about anything that should or shouldn’t happen.

“Jake?” you sigh.

“Yeah?” his voice sounds strained.

“Can you stop being sorry and just fucking kiss me?” you hiss against his jaw.

“Fuck yes,” he breathes, slamming back into you. His lips are hungry, and you’re needy.

His hands are against your bare ribs as he licks into your mouth, and his palms pressed warm against your skin makes a heat flare in your stomach.

He backs you up a couple feet to push you up against the wall as he kisses down your neck. His hands are wandering, skirting hesitatingly over your breasts, his thumb dips under your skirt hem into your navel and then retreats. His hand falls to your hip, flirting with the hem of your skirt. Your legs open for him and it makes him whine.

“Can I—“ he swallows.

“Please,”

His hand moves along the front of your thigh, and then it’s between them, his thumb rubbing over the soft skin slowly. Then, it moves up to your panties, touching softly over you.

“Warm,” he breathes, like he didn’t even mean to say it aloud.

“Jake,” you whine, “Please.”

“Oh,” it’s nearly a whine, and his eyes are squeezed shut, “Don’t say my name like that, doll, or this is gonna get out of hand quick.”

The words make your legs clamp together around his hand.

“You like the thought of that, huh?” He nips at your ear, “Don’t tempt me. Let’s not—“ there’s a sharp inhale as his thumb brushes the hem of your panties, nearly dipping his finger under the fabric, “Let’s not get carried away.”

“Why can’t we?”

“Jesus christ, little wing, you’re makin’ this hard for me,” he withdraws his thumb and skirts it over the front of your panties, “You don’t—“ his breath hitches, and he looks directly into your eyes, “You don’t wanna wait?”

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, “I just—fuck, I just didn’t want it to be like this,”

“What do you want?” You ask, and you mean it. He draws his hand away from your thigh.

“I’m not good at this, like I said, I just—I don’t know what this looks like tomorrow if we do that tonight.”

“I want you to want me bad enough to not care about any of that,” it comes out of you before you can decide better.

“Oh, doll,” he’s breathless, shaking his head. He meets you in another desperate kiss, and okay, maybe you’ll believe him.

“I want you,” he says it with a shudder in his breath. The back of his hand graces your cheek, “God, do I want you,” he looks at your for a long moment in silence before he takes your hand and brings it down to the front of his jeans, where you can feel the hard warmth of him beneath the clasp. It makes your cheeks hot.

“See?” He slots your fingers with his, then, “ But I can’t not care…” he kisses your cheek, “Even drunk, I know that.”

“Please?” You give him doe eyes, and you reach for his hand, placing it back on the hem of your skirt, “Jake, I…please, touch me.”

“Listen to you,” his eyes roll back in his head, “Fuck, I don’t even recognize myself, I normally…mm, jesus you’re hard to resist,”

He takes a deep breath, and then removes both of his hands, holding them up in the air as he releases the breath. They come back to cradle your face.

“Doll…,” he says softly, “Not tonight. I’m sorry, I wish—“ he clears his throat, “You’re welcome to stay here, but I can’t do that tonight,”

He shocks you with the display of reservation, and suddenly you’re hit with a wave of embarrassment.

He can tell.

“Hey,” he kisses you softly, “It’s alright. Just—I can’t do that with you like this. It’s not fair to you.”

You nod softly and embarrassed tears begin to sting at your eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he wipes them with his thumb and kisses you again, so tender your heart aches, and you want to be mad but all you can do is kiss back.

“You can stay here,” he says against your lip, “I can hold you.”

The thought of laying there with him after all this makes you almost frantic, you wish it could go any other way.

For the second night in a row, he’s sighing as you turn away.

“Little wing,”

It’s sad, and in the pit of your stomach, nausea brews. You’re already walking away when he repeats it, and because your body cannot help it, you turn back to him.

“What?” it’s far harsher than you meant; you can see it in the way he recoils that it stings.

“You can stay,” he offers again, “Please—I—It’s alright, I promise.”

A thousand replies run through your mind, but you settle on a heavy breath. You don’t think even if you could put the disappointment into words, that he might understand, or that it might make any difference. You don’t want to spend the night chastely laying beside him while you wonder again if he wants you the same way you want him. So you don’t.

“Goodnight, Jake,” you say softly, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes.

And for the second night in a row, you let the hotel door shut as he’s saying the nickname again.

“Little wing—”

fin.

-✿-

tag list <3

@starshine-wagner @dannywagners-chesthair @writingcold @kels-gvf @aconfusedhippie @fearless-wanderer @thehourbeforesunrise @madz-0217 @gretavanbitches @doodle417 @rhythm-of-space @milkgemini @st4rdust-ch0rds @myownparadise96 @gretavanfleas @josh-iamyour-mama @spark-my-nature @saltydogkiszka @jordierama @sammiejane22 @jakekiszkastaurussuit @jake-kiszkas-smirk @babyhoneygvfarchive @gabyvanfleet @gretavanslutz @dannyandthekiszkas @freckled-wonderland @why-ami-on-here @kay-jordan @pr41sethemoon @watchingovergvf2 @gretavandann @cornychip @gabbiegvf @almost-a-ladybug @gretavanbear @laurenlovesgretavanfleet @jaketlover @dykejake

#gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fics #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #little wing jake

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unhappycylinder · 1 year ago

Text

Gonna Be Trouble (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fem!Reader) Pt. 8

wc: 3.3k

Warnings: Jake being an idiot, cursing, Gabby and Rooster being adorable,

Series Masterlist

“Gabby I just don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into the phone, “I know he said that stuff to push me away, I know it's not how he really feels, but what kind of person can say that to someone they love? He probably doesn’t even love me…”

“Y/n don’t say that,” Gabby’s comforting voice brought more tears to your eyes, “you know he loves you, we all do, but you gotta remember its Hangman we’re talking about. He doesn’t know how to love someone this much. He’s from Texas, he doesn’t know how to have feelings.”

You laughed, wiping away your tears that had pooled in the crease of your nose, “very fair.”

“I’m so sorry he did this…” Gabby stuttered, “I have no idea why. We talked to him just the same day he called you, like literally hours before, and he told Rooster that he believed in you guys…”

That only made you sob harder, “then which one is it?” You coughed, the emotions overloading you to the point you thought you might throw up.

“Sweetheart oh my god,” Gabby’s heart broke for you, and her blood ran cold thinking of Hangman and how he could hurt you like this, “I don’t think you should be alone right now”

“There’s nothing I can do about that Gabby. It’s a long weekend, I have no friends here who know anything about my personal life, I have no money to go anywhere, I’m stuck,” you ranted to her.

“Alright then I’m flying you down”

“What?” You squeaked, “Gabby you’re not doing that”

“Yeah I am,” she pulled out a computer and started typing, you just stared at her dumbfounded over the phone, “send me your TSA number honey, we’re getting you out of there”

“Gabby,” you ran your hands over your forehead, “a flight to San Diego would be like $400 this last minute, it's ridiculous. I’ll be fine, I’m not-”

“Y/n just hush. You’re my best friend, you need support, and I need to see you. Plus, my husband’s in the military, I get flight discounts, and I have access to his credit card and he’s gonna be away at sea so who’s gonna know”

“You’ve got this deployment thing down don’t you,” you laughed at her

“We’ve only been married a few months but I’ve been with this idiot for years, and not once has he questioned why thousands of dollars leave his bank account every time he goes away. Honestly I don’t think he’s smart enough to remember how much money he had before he left…” She rambled while she booked your flight, “Can you be at the airport at 6 tomorrow? Direct flight to San Diego at 8:30…Roo and I can pick you up?”

“Gabby, I mean this sincerely, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you smiled at her,

“Suffer…probably,” she giggled, making you laugh too.

“Thank you Gabby, you’re the best”

“I know I am,” she flipped her hair, “anyway I gotta go soak up some Rooster time before he leaves for forever…”

You giggled, “I don’t want to know details…I’ll see you tomorrow, love you!”

“Love you more, go get some sleep, and don’t forget about your flight please!”

You blew her a kiss before hanging up. Luckily, the emotions from Jake’s phone call had drained you for the day, and you fell asleep pretty easily after the talk with Gabby. After all, you had a flight to catch in the morning.

—

“You better give me a big hug right now,” Gabby said as she walked towards you, arms wide open, as you exited the airport and the warm California air hit your face. Your lip quivered at the sight of your best friend, your tired arm threatening to drop your duffel bag as you embraced her and let your tears flow.

“You’re okay sweetie, you’re here now,” Gabby comforted you as she ran her fingers through your hair

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” you sobbed out, “I’m so happy to be here”

“Awww, I know,” she pulled away and grabbed your face, the widest smile across hers.

“Ladies, this is cute and all,” Rooster yelled from the car, “but this is 5 minute parking and this pilot isn’t looking to get banned from the airport anytime soon…”

“Oh calm down pendejo,” Gabby grabbed your bag from you and threw it into the trunk of the car.

Sliding into the back seat of the car, you caught Rooster’s apologetic gaze through the rear view mirror, the sorrow in his eyes nearly making you break down again.

“Still haven’t heard anything from Hangman?” He asked, the bronco slowly moving out of the line of cars waiting to pick up passengers.

“Ay!” Gabby exclaimed, slapping the back of his head.

“What?” Rooster threw a hand up in defense, hunching over the steering wheel to avoid his wife’s swing.

“Why the fuck would you ask that?” Gabby hissed before turning around to face you, “I’m sorry honey, Mexico did a number on his brain apparently,” she joked as she muttered curses in Spanish to herself. Gabby and Rooster had just returned from a short but sweet honeymoon in Mexico, of which you heard many….maybe too many…intimate tales.

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “um I haven’t heard from him.”

Gabby and Rooster shared a knowing glance.

“Not to keep making you guys play middleman but…have you heard anything?”

“Um…” they both said in unison while staring at each other.

“You can tell me, guys, I’m pretty sure I’d rather know than not.”

Rooster sighed before turning to his wife, who then turned back around to face you.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you this cause I didn’t want you to get anxious,”

Too late, you thought to yourself.

“Jake knows you’re here…”

“Oh?” You felt a punch in your gut, the feeling of anxiety creeping into your throat as Gabby watched you process, “does he-”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants,” Gabby placed her hand on your knee, “you’re here to relax, not appease him. We’ll answer any questions you have of course, but I want you to spend this weekend how you want to, no matter what, okay?”

You sighed, questions and concerns filling your mind, “Okay,” you shook your head. Relaxing was probably the last thing you could do right now.

—

“I think I need to see him,” you muttered as Gabby helped you put your toiletries away in the guest bathroom.

Gabby sighed, “okay, whatever you want, but do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know, is it? Did he say anything about wanting to see me?” You reclined against the bathroom counter, arms folding across your chest.

“Of course he did, Y/n, he feels like shit for breaking up with you, I know he regrets it. Rooster said his flying’s been off the past couple days, says he’s been extra dangerous, whatever that means.”

“Shit,” you panicked at the thought of him burning in, “yeah I need to talk to him”

“I’ll call him then, let him know to come by?” Gabby asked, waiting for you to decide where you wanted to meet him.

“I think I’ll just walk to his place,” you said mindlessly.

“Babe that's like a mile from here, why would you do that?”

“Give myself time to think of what to say? Time to abort the mission?” You sighed, leaving the bathroom to begin your pilgrimage to Jake’s.

“Alright, well, let me know if you need us to pick you up. I love you!”

“Love you too, wish me luck,” you yelled from the stairwell before departing.

—

Hovering your fist over Jake’s door, reality finally hit and anxiety flooded your body as you contemplated what the hell you were doing at Jake’s door three days before he deployed.

“Y/n what the fuck?” You whispered, fist returning to your side as you promptly marched down his driveway, praying he hadn’t noticed you there.

He had.

“Y/n?” A groggy voice muttered from behind you, the Texan drawl of the man you loved barely identifiable over your own whispers. Stopping dead in your tracks, the anxiety bubbled up once again and this time threatened tears from your eyes. With a deep breath you turned around to see him.

Jake stood shirtless in his doorway, grey sweatpants clinging to his hips, his hair spiked and disheveled. The home behind him was dark, no blinds open to let in the midday sun of San Diego, and likely no ventilation for the better part of the last couple days. His eyes blinked rapidly as he adjusted to the light, the hand not clasping the doorknob shielding his green orbs as he trailed up your figure.

“Hey,” you croaked, tears beginning to slowly track your cheekbones. You didn’t move at all, you stood static on his driveway, arms crossed in front of you in a shallow attempt to comfort yourself.

“Come in baby,” he said groggily, breaking your heart to hear him call you such a loving nickname in such a tender way. The tears grew more frequent as you shook your head and walked towards him, arms still crossed until you reached the doorway and stood mere inches from him.

He was impossible to read, but the one emotion you could identify was sympathy. Even Hangman, the hard-to-crack fighter pilot with confirmed kills, couldn’t stand to watch the woman who owned his heart stand in front of him shaking with sadness that he caused. You reached up to wipe away your tears, closing your eyes briefly, and just then you felt his strong arms around you. Jake pulled you close, nuzzling his face into your neck and stroking your back with his strong hands.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered into your hair. You cried harder, eliciting a grunt and sigh from him as the consequences of his actions finally caught up with his emotions.

“The things I said to you were-” he lifted up his head and stared upwards, searching for words, you remained nestled into his chest as you cried, “they were appalling. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything after Rooster told me you were here, I should have tried to see you. I just didn’t know what you’d want…”

“Jake-” you cut him off, peeling yourself off his bare chest to gaze into his eyes which were now also brimming with tears, “we need to talk about this stuff”

He nodded. You needed answers, he needed reassurance, talking was the only thing you could do. He let go of you and welcomed you into the house. Just as you had expected, he hadn’t opened a single window in the whole home, the air stagnant and dark, and the smell of dirty dishes beginning to creep through the building. You walked over to his couch, sitting down on the warm fabric that had obviously been the host of his body for the past couple days. He sat next to you, knees barely grazing yours as you sat in silence for a brief moment.

“Jake, do you remember what you told me on the beach at the beginning of the summer?”

“That I loved you?”

The past tense stung.“No, the part about you burning in, about what Phoenix was saying about you being safer…”

“Oh,” he glanced downwards, “yeah I do”

“Jake, you told me that you were flying safe because you were scared of losing me, that you were scared you’d miss out on our life, on our memories. You told me you wanted to see where we end up, and that our love motivated you to be a better pilot,” you fiddled with his fingers as you spoke, “and Rooster told me you haven’t been flying safe lately,” your throat choking up the more you thought of him being careless, “and I just don’t get why,” you finally sobbed.

The sound of your voice breaking finally brought Jake’s attention to you, concern and pity filling his eyes as he watched you struggle to explain yourself.

“I don’t get why you push me away. I don’t get why you tell me one thing and then do another. I don’t get why you put yourself in danger for no reason, why you put your career and your life on the line….to what? To prove some point?” Tears pooled on your cheeks while your eyes searched the room for some semblance of comfort. “The things you said when you broke up with me hurt, they hurt me to my core, but the thought of you throwing your life away out of spite hurts even more.”

Jake was speechless, his green eyes glassy under scrunched eyebrows as he finally felt the pain you had been enduring because of him.

“The life I want is the life I share with you. And I went into this relationship knowing distance and deployment and all that shit would be a factor. You did too. I’m prepared to go through anything for you…because I want those memories, Jake. I want to hold you and kiss you and dream of you while you’re gone. I want to move into your stupidly undecorated house on base when I graduate and be here for you every night when you come home,” you gestured to his bare walls, eliciting a small chuckle and nod from the hard-to-crack military man who had tears dropping from his eyes.

“God Jake the love I feel for you is endless. I gave you my heart, I gave you myself, don’t give those things back to me.” You stopped talking, the emotions overwhelming you to the point where you removed your hand from his and tucked your knees up in front of you, bundling yourself into a ball while Jake processed everything you said.

“I think…” he began, his eyes searching every part of the room except where you were, “I think we should take some time to think about all this,” he slowed down as he said the last few words.

Your tears dried up, shock overtaking the sadness. You didn’t expect this, you didn’t expect him to mean the things he said, to mean that he didn’t want to be with you.

“So you meant it?” You questioned, eyes finally meeting his.

“What?” He asked quietly

“You meant the things you said. The things about us? About me?”

“No, Y/n. I’m sorry for the things I said to you. They were hurtful and wrong and downright disrespectful. You’re a sweetheart and I’m sorry. I just mean I don’t think it's smart for us to jump into things right now, not with my deployment and your school.”

“What are you saying,” you cut him off.

“I think maybe we should just wait to date or something, til I’m back…”

“Jake,” your voice cracked, “I can’t do that,” you sobbed.

“You don’t think it's a good idea?” He asked earnestly.

“I’m gonna be waiting for you either way. I’d rather be waiting as your girlfriend than just some girl who's heartbroken and doesn’t even know if the man she loves loves her back.”

“You’re not some girl, Y/n, you’re my girl,” he rubbed your arm.

Shrugging him off as the confusion overwhelmed you, “no I’m not Jake. You broke up with me, you told me we should wait. Those don’t exactly go hand in hand with being ‘your girl,” you stood up to leave, he stared at you bewildered, “I’m leaving. You need to make up your mind, I’m tired of being confused about how you feel about me.”

You walked through the dark house to his door, opening it and letting the harsh California light hit the living room where he still sat on the couch, eyes never leaving your frame.

“Good luck on your deployment, Jake,” and with that you took one last look at him and left the house, closing the door behind him. As you walked away, you held out for the possibility that he would open the door and come running out with an apology. But he didn’t. You walked the whole way back to Gabby’s without a word…without an ounce of clarity…just confusion like you had never felt before.

—

The remainder of the weekend went by without a word from Jake. Occasional glances from Rooster after he got a text or got off the phone let you know that, per usual, you were the only person out of the loop when it came to your relationship issues. Nevertheless, going through this breakup without Gabby would have been impossible, and her support meant the world to you.

Monday came around and it was time for the pilots to leave. The debate of whether or not to go had lived in the back of your mind for the better part of the weekend, eating away at you when you tried to close your eyes. Ultimately, after lots and lots of thinking, you had decided not to go for multiple reasons. For one, it gave Gabby and Rooster time alone during a special moment…and it also gave you the upper hand over Hangman. Despite what he told you, you knew Jake, and you knew he’d expect you to be there to wave him off.

“You sure you don’t want to come, honey?” Rooster asked you as he walked by the couch where you reclined in their living room, dressed in his flight suit.

“Yeah I’m sure,” you sighed, sitting up to face him. “I know he’s gonna expect me to be there. And I want to be there for him…but I can’t let myself keep getting hurt. I can’t let him know that he can keep hurting me and I’ll come crawling back…”

“You know, as much as I love Jake, and as long as I’ve known him,” Rooster began, “I think you’re doing the right thing. You’re showing him you’re prioritizing yourself, which is important. He’s an asshole, he needs to be put in his place.”

“He is an asshole isn’t he,” you and Rooster laughed together.

“Alright honey,” Rooster ruffled your hair, the nickname he always called you by making you smile, “I’m outta here. I’ll keep my lips sealed to Jake for a bit, but you know how to reach me if you want me to tell him anything, okay?”

He grabbed his bags, “or if you just want to chat, I’d like that too.”

“Bradley!” Gabby’s piercing voice ran out from upstairs, “we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry the fuck up!”

“Down here, baby!” He yelled back.

Gabby came running downstairs, “You’re ready before me?” She asked out of breath.

“Yeah?” Rooster said sassily, “why are you so shocked by that?”

You giggled at the couple, making Gabby sneer at you.

“Don’t you dare laugh with him,” she pointed at you, making you and Rooster laugh harder. She sighed before walking down and embracing her husband.

“You can’t wear this flight suit in the home, Brashdaw, otherwise you’ll be late to everything…” she flirted before kissing him, his hands gripping her hips.

“I love you, Gabby,” he kissed her again.

“Y'all are gonna make me throw up, go get on a boat or something Roo,” you pretended to gag as you got up from the couch.

“Bye Y/n,” Rooster said, letting go of Gabby briefly to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead, “don’t be a stranger”

“Back at ya.” you gave him a smile, “don’t like die or anything….Gabby would kill you”

Your friend laughed, giving you a brief nudge before opening the front door for Rooster. She shot you a quick wink before closing the door behind her, the sound of the bronco starting not long after.

And with that, you sat back down on the couch, left with your own thoughts and the slightest feeling of regret and worry beginning…what if you never got to say goodbye?

Taglist: @dempy @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mightiestheroes @taytaylala12 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230

#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun hangman #top gun #top gun maverick #hangman x reader

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