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#i think she would love those stands full of knock off crap in the middle of malls. Shes that kinda gal
autumn-may · 3 months
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hey strelitzia what did you get at the mall today
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Oh ok
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justalittlebitbored · 3 months
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late nights - remus lupin
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willow tree: part three excerpt
pairing/au: marauders era, remus lupin x reader
summary: you wake up to knocking on your window in the middle of the night on the night of the full moon. who else could it be but your werewolf best friend covered in blood.
warnings: angst, unrequited love, sadness, fluff, friends to lovers, childhood best friends to lovers. no use of y/n.
wc: 2.3k
a/n: RIGHT, this is an excerpt from my series willow tree, I wrote this in May when I was properly writing and sadly I started this series and I love it so much but I honestly don’t have the effort to keep writing. This scene however is such a pure wholesome scene and I’m sure those who have read the series will love it but I also think it can be a really good oneshot concept so enjoy!!!
To those who haven’t read willow tree, I don’t think u need too to understand this but I shall give context in case:
Reader and remus = besties. Reader realises she loves him, ‘unrequited’ love high jinks ensue, so she distances herself a little bit. Remus hasn’t come to reader during a full moon in a while as the marauders has started to care for him, in this one shit he comes to reader instead of
series masterlist main masterlist
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Hearing a loud banging noise at your window was not quite the surprise you were expecting in the middle of the night.
Your curtains were closed but the motion sent them fluttering towards you. A million thoughts crossed your mind. What if someone was breaking in to rob you, what if you-
You heard a loud groan and then a vague, deep voice said your name. Was that Remus? Your name was said a bit louder this time. Yup that was definitely Remus. What on earth would he be doing here at this time of night?
You ran to the window and pulled the curtains open.
His bloodied body hung outside, his face leaning again the window ledge. Crap. Your fingers pulled the latch open before you could process your actions, the breeze caused the window to fly inwards nearly hitting you in the face.
"Remus!"
You grabbed his hands and attempted to drag his heavy body through the window. With his help you managed to pull him in. His body immediately slumped against yours and your knees nearly buckled under his weight. He was definitely heavier since the last time he had climbed through that window.
Managing to drag his body over to the bed, you led him down as gently as you could.
"Fuck. Remus what happened?"
Whilst running to close the window you nearly tripped on your clothes that you had taken off earlier that night and couldn't be bothered to put in your wash basket and nearly slammed your head on the radiator. Managing to close the window you immediately turned around and headed towards the bed and knelt down to grab the first aid kit that you were sure was under there somewhere.
"Come on you're here somewhere I know you are."
Although pleading with the first aid kit probably didn't do much it was more of a way to calm you down.
The boy on the bed let out a large groan and you could feel the sweat on the back of your neck begin to form and your hands beginning to clam up. Your fingers brushed against something hard. Aha, you found it. You curled your fingers around the handle and pulled it out whilst quickly standing up and placing it on the bed.
Remus let out a large groan and his arms curled around his middle as he looked like he was writhing in pain. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
You had forgotten it was a full moon, you usually kept track of it but this month you must have forgotten, this wasn't a job you had done in a long time, the marauders mainly looked after him now. You hadn't seen him on a full moon in nearly two years except this one time in sixth year where he had ended outside your dorm under the willow tree by your window. By the time you had gotten out of bed and looked outside his friends were carrying him away.
Although James did shout a goodbye at you waving his hands fervently, apologising loudly.
"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." You hadn't done this in a long time and were quite out of practice. He had long deep gashes on his chest and shallower ones on his arms.
What do I do? What did he want me to do? Fuck.
"Remus, I don't know what to do. What do I do?" You asked, your hands shaking as your hovered them above his abdomen.
"I trust you. Just-" He grunted loudly. "-clean me up or something." He said loudly as he began to turn over onto his side.
"Okay? Okay. Right, should be easy enough?" You let out a long breath.
It's fine, it's going to be fine, you done this plenty of times before. What's the difference between now and then.
You quickly got to work cleaning his wounds with a wet rag, apologising as you went along every time he groaned.
You apologised a whole lot more when you had to apply hydrogen peroxide so that it didn't get infected. He let out cries of pain and your eyes stung with tears, you hated seeing him this way.
After quickly working for about twenty minutes you were finally finished. You walked over to your chest of drawers and pulled out a new t shirt and joggers for him. They were his that he had left round at yours before during movie nights. You would help him put the shirt on but you weren't so sure about the trousers, so you decided to leave those on the chair by your desk for now in case he had enough energy to get up and change into them himself.
"Hey, Remus." His eyes opened and he blinked at you softly so you continued. "Hi. Can you sit up for me for a moment so I can put this on you?" His attention was drawn to the top in your hands, he shuffled forward to edge of your bed and you attempted to get him into it.
His head leaned against your chest as he weakly lifted his arms up, eventually after a struggle you managed to get him in it.
He slumped back and you stood awkwardly at the side of your bed, you didn't know what to do now.
You let out a big breath you didn't realise you were holding in as your eyes began to close from how tired you were. You began to walk away to sit in your chair before you heard Remus call your name.
"Stay."
"I'm sorry?" You were confused.
"Can you stay? With me... in the bed." You blinked.
"Please?" He said with a tired chuckle. You could see him give you a meek smile, he looked exhausted, dark circles lining his eyes.
"Sure, yeah. Okay."
You slowly walked towards the bed unsure of where to go. He moved forward, opening a space behind him. You slowly climbed in, your back leaning again the pillow. He was sat up against the wall obviously in pain.
Hesitating for a moment, you placed your hand in his limp one and gently tugged, pulling him towards you.
You hoped he wouldn't say no or look at you funny.
Without saying anything he instantly fell forward, his head on your chest. You could feel his body immediately deflate. You hadn't done this in a long time; before fifth year this would happen every full moon, it was almost a ritual. You would clean him up and then he would lay his head on your chest and you both would cuddle until morning.
"I'm sorry. I don't like it when you see me like this." The words gently left his mouth. Your hand instantly flew to the back of his head, your fingers scratching at his head in a comforting motion. It was instinctual and you didn't realise you had done this until he left let out a soft whimper.
"It's okay, I don't mind." You whispered.
"I do. You don't need this burden on your shoulders." He said with a harsh tone, not directed at you though, you could tell he was aiming it at himselt.
"Hey, my shoulders are yours to use." You smiled softly at him. "Listen to me okay, I don't mind. I would rather you come to me and be safe than lie out there in those woods by yourself. Anytime you need me I will be there."
A harsh exhale left his mouth.
"Thank you. I don't know what I would've done tonight without you." He looked up at me.
You had lied before, saying you had never seen anything as beautiful as the sunset. You had, and you were looking into them right now, Remus' deep golden brown eyes.
For a moment you think he's going to kiss you. His eyes dart to your lips before flickering up to your eyes again. Before he could do anything he smiles, almost sadly before resting his head on you, his head eyes dart to your lips before flickering up to your eyes again. Before he could do anything he smiles, almost sadly before resting his head on you, his head nuzzling against you chest.
"You were asleep, I'm sorry I woke you." He apologised.
"It's okay, I was awake." You lied, you were asleep but he already felt guilty enough you didn't want to make him feel any worse. He said okay quietly into your chest. After a couple minutes of comfortable silence he spoke again.
"I've missed you." He whispered into your chest.
You hands paused for a moment from its action of scratching the back of his head before promptly continuing.
"I'm right here."
He whispered again in a low voice. "I know, I've just missed you."
You didn't know how to respond to that so you just kept running your hands through his hair and after a while his breathing became steady and you assumed he'd fallen asleep.
You had missed him too, even with all of this weird tension and distance. You had missed him too. Your birthday was the only time recently where things had felt normal.
The way you were both led on your bed was anything but platonic but you didn't mind, he hadn't been this close to you in so long. You leant down and pressed a long kiss to the top of his head before leaning your head backward with a loud sigh. Eventually your eyes began to droop and before you knew it you had fallen asleep too.
You woke up in the morning to Remus shaking you softly. Your eyes fluttered open in confusion as your vision began to clear.
"Hi sweetheart." He smiled at you gently. "I need to go, thank you for looking after me. I'll see you later today okay."
Your brain wasn't functioning and your groggy mind couldn't bring you to do anything but produce a soft whimper, you were not a morning person.
His hand cupped your cheek and you leant into it, your lips almost brushing his palm in a soft kiss, whilst his other hand brushed your hair out of your eyes gently. Although you were in a state you could still make out the soft smile he gave you. He let out a shaky breath before leaning down and pressing lingering kiss against your forehead.
He moved away towards your window, you turned to your side to watch him turn around and look at you again for a long moment before turning and climbing out the window. You heard a soft click soon after.
You wish you had more time to think about what had happened but you were too tired to think and the next thing you knew you were out like a light.
After god knows how long your body jolted upright.
Remus was here last night, right? You looked to the side where a bloody rag led on your bedside table along with an opened first aid kit. He was here last night, you hadn't imagined it so you certainly didn't imagine him waking you up to say goodbye.
He called you sweetheart. God, he called you sweetheart. A small involuntary smile was on your face as you pushed your covers away and got out of bed. Your mouth was dry and you desperately need a glass of water so you walked out of your room with a stupid smile on your face and no matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop.
You walked into the kitchen hoping to get a glass of water when you saw Lily sat at the counter eating some toast. Your quietly wished her a good morning as you headed towards the cupboard to grab a glass.
"What were all those sounds last night?" Lily asked.
You froze, you didn't know how to approach this really since you knew that she would read into this situation and give it a deeper meaning and you really couldn't be asked for that right now.
You slowly turned around, grabbing a glass leaving the forefront of your mind.
"Umm... nothing it was just-" She raised her eyebrows and you knew there was no point in lying about it.
"It was Remus. It was the full moon last night and he just turned up, I didn't know what to do so I just cleaned him up."
Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline.
"Oh. So is he still here or?" She questioned, an innocent look on her face.
"No. He's gone now."
She hummed. "So did you guys-"
"No!" You exclaimed cutting her off. "Nothing happened. Don't look at me like that Lily. Nothing happened, it was just one friend patching up another friend."
You really thought that she was going to ask more questions but she didn't say much but look at you with a knowing smile. You didn't know what game she was playing at, but you were glad she wasn't asking any questions.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay."
You cleared your throat. "Right I should probably go and shower, you know aet ready for the day."
"Okaaay."
You turned around and hurried to your room, she knew what she was doing. If you spent a moment longer with you she would work her magic and make you spill all of your feelings to her. She was weirdly good at that.
You slammed your door shut and stood with your back pressed to it as you took a deep breath.
Okay.
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enjoy yall!
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joonie-beanie · 4 years
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The Demon Brothers + comforting a self-conscious MC/Reader
So a while ago an anon sent me the below ask
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And I kind of adored the idea, considering I am also insecure, and chubby, and in need of some demon bro comfort. Hence, here we are.
Rather than bullet point, I ended up writing short stories for each brother. Hopefully you still enjoy 💕
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Lucifer:
The eldest brother is not unaware of the way your eyes stray when the two of you are in public together—your gaze raking over the other inhabitants of the Devildom as you traverse the busy streets.
At first, he assumes the array of creatures—some far less human-like than he and his brothers—are interesting to you. Then, he notices the way you begin hugging yourself with your arms. As if trying to hide yourself away from any prying eyes.
It is indeed out of place for a human to be seen in the Devildom, and you do get some stares, but...he has a suspicion that the sudden shyness you exhibit stems from feelings that reach beyond what strangers may think of you.
He doesn’t like seeing you in such a state.
“Y/N,” he addresses you after tugging you into a small, scarcely populated side alley. One of his gloved fingers curls beneath your chin, and he guides your hung head to look at him. “I can tell you’re upset. Explain to me why.”
You glance away from him, cheeks heating up, and your arms hugging your sides a bit tighter.
“I just...you, and your brothers are all so beautiful,” you start by saying, causing him to blink in surprise. “And...whenever we’re out like this, and I see all of the other demons living here, I can’t help but feel like I pale in comparison...”
Lucifer’s features soften as he stares at you. You’re worried about such a silly thing?
“Y/N.” He steps forward, his thumb moving to hold your chin. He tilts your head up, guiding you into a kiss. It’s soft, and loving, and immediately your fingers are twitching against your sides—itching to reach out and hold him.
“You are perfect as you are, and I have never thought otherwise.”
He kisses you again, his free arm moving to curl around your waist and tug you closer. You feel your heart aching in your chest.
“Lucifer—”
“You need not compare yourself to others, because there is no one else like you—and you are radiant in every sense of the word. I give you my word as the Avatar of Pride that what I speak is the absolute truth.”
His voice is quiet, and tender, and full of adoration. You feel like crying.
“I love you,” you whisper the words against him, voice a little broken, and Lucifer smiles before kissing you again. He will try his best from now on to help you feel a little more comfortable in your own skin.
Mammon:
The second brother invites you to Majolish to watch one of his fashion shoots, and you agree despite knowing how self conscious it will make you, because you know it will make him happy.
So, you find yourself standing in the back of the studio, watching Mammon on the temporary set—which is composed of an oversized mattress, and colorful pillows. He’s wearing slacks, and a button up that’s not buttoned at all—revealing his toned body. Since it’s a group shoot, he’s surrounded by equally enticing male and female demons. And while the sight should get you going, considering they’re all so attractive, it just makes you feel...bad.
Biting your lip, a sick feeling rising in your chest, you end up stepping out into the hall. Mammon finds you there soon after, a look of relief on his face when he spots you with your back against the wall—arms hugged together.
“There ya are! I thought you had left!” He runs up to greet you, but his smile wavers. He can tell you’re upset—gaze straying away from him. 
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He reaches out, hands hovering nervously. Had he done something? “I...if I did something wrong you can tell me...I didn’t mean to upset ya—”
“No, it’s not you,” you mumble, cutting him off. Now he’s even more confused. “I guess...I got upset seeing you and all the models. I know I don’t look anywhere near as attractive, and that thought started to gnaw at me, so—”
“What are ya talking about?” he interrupts you, head cocked to the side curiously. “I think you’re hot as hell.”
You feel your cheeks heat up, surprised at his words. “What?”
“I-I mean!” suddenly he’s turning red, hand lifting to sheepishly rub at his neck. “I’ve never thought that ya weren’t attractive, ya know? Ever since you came here my heart can’t help but flutter whenever I see ya…”
Your heart aches. “Mammon…”
“Listen! I just…,” his shy gaze turns back to you, and he reaches a hand out, cupping your cheek. “I think you’re one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”
He leans in, but hesitates for a moment, so you’re the one who ends up sealing the kiss.
“Don’t worry about that kinda crap, okay?” he whispers against you, his arms lowering to wrap around your waist—holding you tightly. “Or else The Great Mammon will have to start knocking some sense into that silly human brain of yours.”
Tears blot your eyelashes, but you can’t help but giggle.
Levi:
You love Levi dearly, but he has an Akuzon addiction that needs to be addressed.
Recently, Akuzon had apparently expanded their clothing options—stocking more cosplay-like pieces—and Levi had thrown them all into his cart without second thought. Now that they’ve arrived, he’s begging you to come over.
Except, he doesn’t tell you why he wants you to come to his room until you’re already there—watching as he unpacks the multiple bags worth of questionable clothing.
“Ooooo~! This one is especially cute!!” He holds up something pastel, and undeniably adorable. You don’t disagree—it is cute, but...as you stare at it, an uncomfortable feeling settles in your stomach.
Can you even pull off something like that? You’re sure Levi is hoping that you’ll look like one of the cute anime characters in his favorite shows, and you don’t want to disappoint him. 
As much as you would love to try on the clothing and model for him, you don’t believe you’ll be able to do the outfits any justice.
“Y/N?” the demon calls your name curiously, noting how you’ve gone silent. You’re no longer paying attention to him, your head hung as you stare off to the side—a perplexed look on your face.
“W-What’s wrong?” Leviathan drops the clothing held in his grap, stepping towards you. He knows that he can get a little overly excited about this stuff, but you’re typically tolerant of it…
“I don’t know if I’m the right person to model for you,” you end up saying, voice quiet. An array of negative feelings are swirling in your head, making it hard for you to say what you want to without vomiting all your worries at him.
“I’m not...built the same as an anime character, or the cute 2-D people in your video games. The clothing won’t look the same on me, and I don’t want to ruin the images you probably have in your head.”
“Y/N—,” he cuts you off, his hand grabbing your own. He lifts your hand until your fingers are splayed against his chest. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm.
When you glance up, his face is flushed.
“I...this is how I get every time I’m around you,” he tells you honestly. “Whether you’re in your RAD outfit, or pajamas, or just a t-shirt and jeans...I...m-my heart always beats l-like this.”
He looks like he’s about to phase out of existence—embarrassed beyond belief with everything he’s currently confessing to you—so you instinctively reach your free hand up and cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, cheeks aflame. 
“I think you’re so cute,” he mumbles, amber eyes staring right at you. “You don’t have to look like Ruri-chan, or anyone else. I...I like you. So, please don’t think those things about yourself...”
“Levi…” There’s adoration in his gaze, and you can’t help but kiss him. 
Beneath your palm, you feel his heart skip a beat. 
Satan: 
The Avatar of Wrath has recently become accustomed to inviting you out on little coffee dates. It’s a chance for both you and him to escape his brothers, and have a space to yourselves where you’ll be able to talk freely.
The cafe the two of you frequent is dark, and cozy, and right up Satan’s alley. So far, all of your experiences there have been pleasant. 
Today, however, the stunningly attractive barista is throwing herself at Satan as he orders your drinks, and a familiar uncomfortable feeling begins rising in your throat.
Just great. 
Chin resting in your palm, you watch the two interact—Satan maintaining his pleasant composure, even when she presses her arms beneath her chest and asks if he wants any company. You see him shake his head, and you assume he mentions that he’s already here with someone, considering the barista’s gaze strays to you. She looks you up and down, an unkind amusement swimming in her eyes, before she turns back to Satan.
...wow. 
You face yourself away, feeling bitter, and anxious as you wait for the fourth brother to return to your side. That assuming he does. You wouldn’t blame him for running off with the Barista—
“Y/N,” two hands reach out and cup your cheeks, guiding your head to the side. You manage to note that Satan is now crouched beside your chair—barista abandoned—before his lips connect with yours.
“I love you. You’re absolutely stunning.”
“Wha—,” you flush red as he pulls back, shocked at his actions. Satan usually isn’t so open about his affections in public. “You...how did you—?”
“I was watching the barista when she glanced past me. The rude, yet satisfied look on her face was telling enough,” he says, a bit of anger slipping into his tone. However, it’s quick to melt away when his gaze refocuses on your blushing cheeks. 
“Just so you know, I think you’re beautiful. I’ve always thought so.” He presses back to his feet, the tips of his ears turning red. “So...don’t mind what others say, and be kind to yourself, okay?”
At a loss for words, you reach your arms out and hug him around the middle. He blinks in surprise, but a chuckle leaves his lips—his hand petting against your hair.
“Do I need to start telling you how much I adore you every day?”
“I might die,” you mumble into his shirt, and he feels his heart ache. He’ll be sure to start expressing his affections for you more often. He doesn’t want you feeling down about the way you look, because he has never given it a second thought. 
In his eyes, you’ve always been perfect.
Asmo:
Asmo is unfortunately stellar at reading your body language. So on the days where your self-confidence and self-image aren’t best, he’s right there, trying to subtly raise your spirits.
Today, when he notices you picking at your food during breakfast, a frown on your face, he knows it’s going to be one of those days. And he doesn’t like seeing you upset. 
So, he invites you to come to his room for a nice, relaxing spa day.
You agree, although it takes a little bit of convincing on his end. 
Soon enough, you find yourself standing in front of Asmo’s outrageously large tub. He’d prepared a milk bath for you—the white, swirling liquid thick, and heavenly smelling. You’re a little nervous to disrobe and sink inside—especially considering your current mental state—but...you end up doing it anyway.
Once you’re shoulder deep into the tub, Asmo knocks on the door, making you jump.
“Are you up for getting a scalp massage?” he questions, peeking his head in. There’s a kind smile on his face. “I’d love to give you one.”
It takes you a moment to answer—your gaze lowering to look at yourself. It’d be impossible for him to see you beneath the milk, so that helps you feel a bit better…
“Okay,” you say, and Asmo is quick to skip inside. He rolls up his pants to his knees, his calves dipping into the bath on either side of your shoulders. A moment later, you feel his fingers rub through your hair, and you can’t help but sigh.
“Feel good?” he questions, and you hum in acknowledgement. Silence falls for a short while—Asmo simply focusing on easing the tension from your body—but he can’t let his thoughts go unheard.
“You know,” he starts by saying. “I don’t understand why you’re so hard on yourself. I think you’re positively stunning.”
“Asmo…”
“No, I really mean it!” he pouts, getting the feeling that you think he’s just saying that to try and make you feel better. “You’re cute, and scrumptious just the way you are! And I’ve always thought so—since the moment I laid my eyes on you when you were summoned by Lord Diavolo for the exchange program. 
“So just...take my word for it, please, and let me be the positive voice in your life when your silly brain is making you think otherwise.”
He leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and his hands move to gently hold your cheeks. After a moment, you reach up and place your hands on his own. Your chest aches at his words, conflicted, but more than anything, you feel grateful.
“Thank you, Asmo.”
“Anytime, darling. I’ll always be more than happy to shower you with the love, praise, and affection that you rightfully deserve.”
Beel: 
Beel loves inviting you to the gym with him, because when he’s done working out, he’s starving, which means it’s a good excuse to go out and have a meal with you.
Most days, sitting on the sidelines at the gym, or hopping on the treadmill and getting a good walk in doesn’t really bother you. Especially because you get to watch Beel as he exercises.
Today, however, you’re feeling entirely too self conscious as you sit on the empty bench press beside the Avatar of Gluttony—watching the way his arms flex as he lifts the heavy weights.
You know that the gym is typically an accepting place—an area where people (or in this case, demons) of any shape and size can come to work out—but you just feel like you don’t belong. Not accompanying Beel, at the very least.
He basically looks like he was handcrafted by god himself (and very well may have been)—his face handsome, and body toned in all of the right places. And here you are, unable to compare to him.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
His voice reaches your ears, and you look up to find him staring at you in concern. You can only guess that you’d had a pretty sour look on your face while you’d been lost in your thoughts.
“It’s...it’s nothing, Beel.” You force a smile, not wanting to burden him with your current emotions. He frowns, regarding you for a moment, before he lets it go.
“Okay, I’m gonna change, and then we’ll go eat.”
“Alright,” you respond, immediately pressing to your feet. You head for the door without saying anything, intending to wait for him outside per usual. 
A few minutes later, Beel exits the gym to find you sitting on a bench nearby. Your leg is bouncing anxiously, gaze zoned on the concrete at your feet.
“What’s wrong?” he questions again, taking a seat beside you. His tone indicates that he won’t be accepting “nothing” for an answer this time. 
You knot your hands together in your lap. “I just...do you ever get embarrassed? Bringing me to the gym with you?”
He blinks. “Embarrassed? Why would I?”
“I don’t know, because I’m...not...up to par with a lot of the demons in there? Or, because you look like that, and I look like this, and—”
“I’m lost,” he cuts you off, looking confused. “Are you saying I should be embarrassed because I’m bringing a cute human with me to the gym? Maybe it is a little weird, considering this is the Devildom, but—”
“No, not just because I’m human. I meant—”
This time, he silences you with a kiss. His large hands cup your cheeks, holding you tenderly.
“I know what you meant, Y/N, but I disagree,” he tells you, uncharacteristically serious as he sits back. Then, a bashful smile spreads on his face. “I actually think you’re really adorable. Anytime I look at you I think of my favorite food. I love you just how you are, and will never feel embarrassed having you at my side. So, you should remember that from now on, okay?”
He reaches over and slots your hands together, tugging you to your feet.
“Now, let’s go get some ice cream.”
Belphie:
Both you and Belphie are aware that one of Belphie’s favorite activities is napping with you. Particularly, with his hands wrapped around you, and his face pressed between your shoulder blades.
Recently, you’ve been passing on all of his invitations to share a nap.
And he’s seriously starting to go crazy.
Had he done something to upset you? You always seem normal whenever you’re talking with him and his brothers, but when he sends a text asking you to come over and nap, you’re either busy, or just don’t feel like it.
Today, he decides to try and bring the nap to you.
He waltzes into your room mid-afternoon—pillows and blankets tucked beneath his arms. Without waiting for a response, he makes his way to your bed and sets everything up, making a perfect little fort for the two of you to nap in.
Once it’s set up, he crawls his way inside and then rolls over, turning to face you. 
You’re stood at the edge of the bed, arm awkwardly held in your grasp. You don’t move to join him. Belphie sighs.
“Did I do something wrong?” he finally asks, wanting to resolve the issue if he has. He can’t take this anymore.
“What? No, it’s not you,” you tell him, surprised to hear his question. The demon blinks at you, now even more confused. If he’s not the reason you’ve been avoiding napping with him, then what is?
He fixes you with a curious stare—letting you know that he won’t be leaving until you tell him the truth—and you sigh. 
“I just...haven’t been feeling too good about myself lately,” you admit to him, eyes glancing off to the side. “And because of that, I started thinking about you holding me when we nap, and ended up getting self conscious, wondering if I felt weird in your arms, or if—”
Before you get the chance to continue, Belphegor is grabbing your wrist—tugging you down against the mattress. With your back facing him, he’s quick to scoot up behind you, his arms wrapping around your midsection like normal.
“I never have cared about looks, or any of that stuff,” he mumbles, giving you a squeeze. “You fit perfectly in my arms, and always will, so don’t overthink it.”
“Belphie…”
“I love you for you, okay? I think you’re cute, and all that jazz. Now don’t make me say it again…”
Sounding embarrassed, Belphegor presses a kiss to the back of your head. You place your arms atop his own, smiling softly.
“Thank you.”
And for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep in his arms.
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takenbyheartstrings · 3 years
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changing of the seasons | tom holland.
[ tom x fem!reader au || warnings. fluff, swearing, angst, implications of sex, the reader drinking || wc. 5.2k (this is a bit of a long one LMAO)  ] a/n. it’s currently 4:52 in the morning, so my apologies if this is so sloppy, but I’m writing it and heading straight to bed, praying there’s no major grammatical errors. Now, ik that uni doesn’t have frats or whatever, but it’s an au so idrc about accuracy ANYWAY, goodnight to all <3
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W I N T E R
YOUR BREATH HITCHED AGAINST THE COLD AIR OF THE NIGHT, this cold of a day in London was not unusual, not welcomed, nor un-welcomed. You sort of loved the cold days, even if it rained so much that it was almost impossible to leave the house. It brings a sense of home to you and your roommate.
The same roommate who tried to join one of those sororities. But then chickened out last minute ‘Those girls are so fucking intimidating... I dunno how anyone does it!’ You laugh as you remember the day she came back to the dorm in shambles, only slightly tipsy. She really was the party type - but you had obligated to stay back at the dorm and watch Netflix or something, she found you coddled watching and reading. It wasn’t an unusual state for you at all, and you partied sometimes, Katie had mocked you previously, for acting as if you’re ‘Not like other girls.’ But you had to disagree, she was being ridiculous.
But that’s not where the story starts, ironically; the story starts at one of those terrible parties. Katie had dressed you in a nice pair of high waisted jeans and a tank top. You felt like you were wearing a little too less, which wasn’t a bad thing at all. You were just a little shy, so you slipped a jacket on top. In your defence: ‘Kate! It’s freezing outside!’
You were at a party where everyone knew you as the smartest kid in possibly the grade - you weren’t bullied or anything, but you weren’t popular either. Everyone knew you, and you knew them. You weren’t friends with them, but you weren’t not friends with them - you were the middle ground; the mediocre.
But in the whole time you were at this party, you managed to see the one person you didn’t like at all, and who didn’t like you.
Tom Holland was a stuck-up brat who didn’t know any better than to slack off in class, drink until so drunk he could barely speak properly, make comments about people that were anything but nice, and to make things even better, cheated on his girlfriend, and still, no matter how much he annoyed you, how much he despised you, how much the two of you tried to avoid each other... the two of you always managed to get in each other’s way.
You didn’t even knew how Tom Holland managed to slither his way into your life. But he did, and although the two of you disliked each other (although, it’s not a strong enough word), he always needed. your. help.
You saw it coming when he walked up to you at that stupid party, “What do you want, Thomas?” You questioned, your arms crossed over your jacket like they had been the whole night, a red solo cup sat in your hand.
“I need your help, passing another class.” He speaks and you can’t help but roll your eyes, you had a tutoring service, you knew what you were getting yourself into - but you didn’t think this one particular person would keep coming back for every test. There had to be something he was good at! How would he have gotten into uni if he weren’t?
You chuckled, “Is there seriously nothing you can do on your own?” You question him airing your thoughts.
You’re sat in a corner, and Tom is a charmer, so naturally, his hand leans onto the wall, keeping you in your place, he’s wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt that suggests he’ll be sleeping in it tonight after he’s blacked out on his own bed, “Look, princess,” He almost spits, “Help me out, it’s the least you can do for me, after all, you’re the one making the money.”
and although, ALTHOUGH, you hate Thomas Stanley Holland with almost every single bone in your body...
you can’t help but feel a flutter in your stomach when he calls you princess.
You look him in the eye, almost slightly flustered, biting your lip, “Fine, I’ll teach you, just come by my dorm tomorrow at four and we can get started.”
“I have practi-” You cut Tom’s words off with the knife of your tongue.
“I don’t care what you have, if you won’t pass, there won’t be any practice at all. So I’d keep your mouth shut.” Tom takes note of your poisonous tone, nodding before he leaves you be in the exact same spot he found you in.
That night you went home with Katie, she was sloshed and drunk and could throw up all over you at any moment, but you were so tired. You wanted to hold her hair back, you so truely did, but you tied it up and let her be, despite her saying it was okay and to get some rest - you really did feel bad, and she should’ve taken her own advice.
The next day you didn’t have any classes, so you were determined to cram as much alone time in before Kate or Tom came to the dorm room. So you pretty much just sat on your ass all day, typing away at your computer and laughing at stupid YouTube videos in a pair of bike shorts and a baggy white t-shirt. You could see the black bralette you were wearing underneath it, but you weren’t expecting anyone so you depending on your memory to know when to change your clothes. But you didn’t think fast enough as there was a knock on your door. You walked over, expecting it to be Kate coming back from class or from getting Coffee with her girlfriend, but there’s almost so much luck for the world, and apparently, you didn’t get any at all.
“Thomas!” You shriek as you open the door wide, the dorm room was not far from a mess, but messy enough to say, “Sorry about the mess,” You invite him into the dorm room, hastily putting the blankets and pillows back into their places.
Tom walks into the familiar room, one he had been in many times and not for harmless fun. But to get his grades up. But there was a lot of things that you didn’t know about Tom Holland, a frat boy who’s life depends on the money he just so happens to have passed down to him. But Tom wasn’t the disgusting piece of crap you thought him out to be at all. The cheating? It was a rumour made by his piece of shit girlfriend, who just needed an excuse to dump him to get with her side-piece. But he was paraded for it by his friends, so he went a long with it - knowing that what was happening was so disgustingly gross and out of line. Tom to you was a bad guy, but in reality. He would be one of the nicest people you could ever know. Partially because of you.
To make it even clearer, Tom WAS that kind of guy, he’d been sleeping with everyone in sight before he got his girlfriend, to try and prove to you that he could hold a relationship, to prove to you that he was a good guy. He stopped the comments, convinced his friends to stop the comments as well. He was trying to be better because of you.
Tom tried not to look at how good you looked in your shorts and t-shirt, but his eyes couldn’t help following every inch of your body. He was trying his best, he really was. But he had to force his eyes away.
Finally after tiding up the place, slightly, you stood up properly and spoke, “Shall we get started?”
“Yes, we should.” Tom’s voice rang as you broke him out of whatever trance he was in before. He knew full well that he didn’t like you, but he didn’t know if that was him trying to convince himself, or if it was actually true - anymore at least.
You were sat down with Tom at the desk you had brought from IKEA not too long ago, you had a monitor and PC that sat in front of the two of you as you both worked on Tom’s History assignment. There was a sudden stop between the work-flow when you saw that Tom hadn’t been paying attention.
You looked at him as he looked at you, “Tom, pay fucking attention or there’s no way you’re going to pass and as much as I dislike you, I want you to do good.”
Guess being a nice person kills, huh? You can’t truely hate Tom, because there’s some mindset of yours unable to stop caring about Tom and how he does in school, because you feel bad for him.
Tom rolls his eyes, “Fine... what were you saying?” He tries to pay attention to you but you look way too good to be able to focus, so his eyes just stay on you and your voice drowns out.
You look at Tom who’s still looking at you rather than doing the work, “Tom,” Your voice shakes him out, as you shake him, your hand on his shoulder.
You yourself, didn’t realise how close the two of you were, but as your breath was on Tom’s face, and Tom’s breath was on yours. His hand moved up your thigh - and you let it. He moved closer and closer, his lips finally meeting yours as you kissed him back, the two of you stood up as you’re still kissing the air getting hotter and hotter.
Tom lifts your shirt over your head before pulling away for a minute, “Are you sure you wants this?” He questions you.
“Tom, if you keep talking, I’m going to change my mind.” You say before pressing your lips to his once more.
He unclips your bralette, his warm lips on yours, the winter’s air was nothing compared to what was happening in dorm 4B at this moment, his kisses moving down your neck to your chest, and your soft moans echo in your bedroom, nothing was stopping the two of you.
YOU AND TOM lay there, completely breathless.
‘What the fuck just happened?’ You asked yourself in shambles before standing up and getting yourself dressed.
“You need to leave,” You tell Tom as he sits up.
He chuckles, “Why?” He smiles coyly.
You roll your eyes at Tom, slipping your white shirt back over your head. You sigh heavily as you look back at him once more, “Tom, I can’t even fathom what happened here, right now.”
“We had sex, Y/N, there’s not much to unpack here.” He speaks softly, “Look, I get that you hate me or whatever,” He stands as he puts his sweatpants and jersey back on, “But I’ve never hated you.”
He grabs his shoes and slides them back on, before grabbing his backpack and leaving you to your own thoughts. That was the first time you’d ever heard him say something like that. That he never hated you. You had just assumed he did because of the way he acted towards you. You fell back onto your bed. 
You started to question your hatred for Tom, but you didn’t know how long it would take before your feelings would soon unpack, it was harder to do than expected. You thought it was black and white. But it’s a lot harder, way harder than you initially thought.
You heard the door open as Katie slammed the door behind her shut, checking in on you as her head popped into your room.
“Katie, I had sex with Tom Holland.” You spoke, almost afraid of the words that came out of your mouth.
S P R I N G
THE FLOWERS HAD STARTED TO BLOSSOM, you hadn’t talked to Tom since what happened in your room and you made every effort to ignore him or avoid him no matter how hard he tried.
What happened with him happened in January, it was now April. It had been four months, four months of just thinking. Debating with yourself and debating with your feelings. Tom didn’t make it easier to think about him either. He was trying to grab your attention so madly that it drove the two of you insane for each other.
Your phone didn’t stop pinging with text messages and emails and phone calls from the boy. It drove you mad. 
You store at your phone for longer than a minute while drinks were happening for a little girls night that Katie had planned, “Stop staring at your phone, Y/N,” Katie’s girlfriend spoke.
“Sorry,” You apologised softly, as Ciera laughed.
“Don’t apologise,” She sighed, “What’s happening for you right now is complicated, you had hate sex and you’re scared of commitment to the person you had hate sex with when he’s more than ready to commit to something you’re not.”
You whacked Ciera over their arm, “OW!” She shrieks.
“Sorry Ciera, but I’m not afraid of commitment.” You tell them, “I’m just afraid of committing to Tom himself,”
Katie walks into the kitchen, three glasses in her hand, “He’s a good person, y’know,” Katie sits down the glasses in front of you and Ciera.
“It’s true,” Ciera speaks, “He’s not as bad as you say he is,”
You end up rolling your eyes at both of their words, “I know, but I’ve just always seen him in the worst light there is, rude to teachers, to people, at parties he gets blackout drunk - always coming to me when he needs help, tries to form a friendship, forgets all about it the next day and comes running back to me again, so sorry if I’m a little on the fence.” You tell your best friends.
Ciera rubs your arm, looking at Katie, “We’re gonna leave you to cool off and think alright, we’ll be at the bar about five minutes away, we’ll see you soon.” Ciera and Katie sigh leaving you to your thoughts.
You walk over to the couch and turn on the TV, sitting down you look at the glass of drink in your hand, placing it down on the coffee table. Your dorms windows were open so you just looked at the night sky through them, it wasn’t cold nor hot. A little warm - you wished you could forget about all of the shit that was happening at the moment. But Tom wouldn’t leave you alone, he texted you asking you how you were doing, trying to grab your attention. You had to admit it, it was kind of sweet of him to text you once a day and ask. To call you to try to ask. He left a voicemail everyday too, and they were filled with nice messages for you to listen to. Just him talking about his day.
You thought of what you had said earlier, being scared to commit to Tom. You sighed as your head turned back to the TV, you felt something in you that you hadn’t felt before. A sense of urgency. You slipped on a pair of shoes and made your way to Tom’s Frat house.
It wasn’t late, so you just banged on the door. Out came Harrison Osterfield, Tom Hollands best friend - not to mention the fact that you also helped him pass a couple of his classes, he was Tom’s best friend and a good guy. He made an effort to say ‘Hey Y/N!’ in the Quad or if he sees you on your way to class.
Why couldn’t you like Harrison? you asked yourself as he met your eyes.
“Hey Haz,” You smile.
Haz chuckled, “Hello, Y/N, what can I do for you today?” 
“Do you by any chance know where Tom is?” You queried, “It’s kinda important? I dunno, but I have to talk to him.”
“Well, he’s upstairs in his room, third room on the right.” He said opening the large door a little more to let you inside.
You made your way into the large mansion (well, a really big house, but extra points for the spiral staircase in the middle of the house), the house looked different with nobody in it. There was lots of room to move around and you didn’t have to sit in one corner of the room. The floor was a pearled white marble, something you hadn’t actually seen before. You made your way up the large staircase and over to Tom’s room.
Before entering, you knocked on the door, when you walked in you saw something you didn’t want to see at all, “WHAT THE FUCK, TOM?” You almost screamed, as he looked up at you, fear in his eyes - he was obviously in bed with some blonde bitch.
“Y/N WAIT,” he hurries to put his pants on before running after you.
“NO TOM, I’M NOT WAITING FOR YOU, I CAME HERE TO BE MORE LIKE YOU’VE WANTED FOR THE PAST THREE MONTHS AND YOU’RE IN BED WITH SOMEONE ELSE, I WAS READY TO FACE MY FEARS AND JUMP INTO THE DEEP END.” You felt like you were on the verge of tears. He had done all this waiting for you, so you felt like you owe him some time, time to talk to explain himself, but it didn’t feel worth it.
Tom’s face goes red, “I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YOU, Y/N, SO DESPERATELY AND THE ONE TIME I ASK YOU TO WAIT YOU SAY NO-”
“YOU WERE IN BED WITH SOMEONE ELSE, THOMAS,” You groan frustrated, calming yourself down, “I was afraid to commit to you, Tom. I always saw you as some shitty person, but after seeing you wait for me taking your time. I’m still not ready but I thought, ‘Hey! that’s the beauty of something scary, you never know!’” you quote your thoughts, “BUT I GUESS I WAS RIGHT.”
You made your way out the door as Tom grabbed your arm, “Y/N,” His eyes looked into yours, they were clearly sorry - but you couldn’t buy it anymore, “I’m sorry.”
You knew he was, you could hear it in the voice crack, the tears that were now running down his face. He sniffled as he held your arm, knowing that he fucked up. Although you wanted to wait, you knew you should’ve made a move sooner. You had so much time and even going into the frat house today, you didn’t even know but you knew you’d never be ready for something like this without going into it head on.
Tom fucked up by not waiting when he told you was.
Although the two of you weren’t dating, it still hurt like a knife to the chest.
“Fucking, bullshit Tom.” You said it. Immediately regretting it when it came out of your mouth.
You stormed out of the house, Tom’s hot hand leaving your skin.
S U M M E R
YOU, KATIE AND CIERA are on the beach, you’d actually flown to another country to do so, Greece was lovely this time of year.
You store into the clear blue waters as Katie and Ciera swam their lives away staying next to each other. To say the least, you were quite jealous of them. Not just because any chance at a relationship with Tom had flown out the window. You were shattered at the thought. The girls thought a nice getaway would do you good, better than Tom could ever. But they were wrong.
Now that you and Tom weren’t going to be together, you wanted him more than you could’ve wanted him before. You stood up, your toes in the sand as you called out to your friends.
“Guys! I’m gonna go for a little walk around, I’ll catch you guys back here in a little bit,” They both nodded, not giving a second thought before you walked away. This was more of an excuse to get away together and have you be the third wheel.
You walked through the streets looking around at boutiques and stores that line the streets. You walked into a few and ran your hand over the racks. You didn’t buy anything. But the thought was nice, as you walked however, you saw a familiar face standing in an Ice-Cream shop.
“Haz?” You asked as he turned to you with a smile.
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, “Hey, Y/N!”
After you and Tom had the argument, you had been avoiding Tom at all costs, you hadn’t however been ignoring the other guys, and the other guys told Tom how you were doing. You would smile and talked to his friends and the second he should show up, you leave Tom in the dust and in the dark.
“So who are you here with?” You questioned Haz.
His smile falters but he catches it, “Just the boys, you know, Tuwaine, Harrison...” he trails off for a moment, “Tom.”
You sigh, “Well, I hope you guys are having a good time, I better get going, Katie and Ciera are waiting at the Hotel for me.”
Harrison groans playfully, “How about you text your friends and come hang out with us?” He smiles, charming.
“What about Tom?” You questioned.
Harrison sighs looking at you softly, “You and Tom need to talk, wether it’s under the influence, or wether it’s sober. You and him need to talk - he’s completely crushed. He has been for four months, you guys haven’t talked in four months, even before that you barely talked.”
“Look, Haz, Tom and I slept together and he pined for me and then I got him in bed with some blonde bitch and the rest is now.” You glared at Haz for even trying, but he was right - the two of you needed to talk. It wasn’t debatable anymore, you let out a heavy sigh, “But, I’ll go, you’re right.”
“Okay,” Harrison smiles, “If you want Ciera and Katie to come, they can.”
“Trust me, they’re probably very busy.” You laugh and wink as he leads you back to where the boys were partying for the night. It came quicker than it left, one minute you were on the beach, the next it was dark and you were at a bon fire, where there were only five partygoers, you and four boys.
“HARRY!!!” you hear three voices chime loudly, as you walk out Haz those cheers stop.
“H-Hey, Y/N,” Tom speaks nervously.
“Hey Tom.”
A few moments later, is what it feels like, after you’ve drunk a few drinks, you’re laughing with Tom, smiling with Tom, getting feely with. Tom. You were telling so many stories about your life during uni, during high-school and embarrassing ones at that. They traded theirs and you traded yours. It was turning out to be a fun time, and then Haz, Harrison and Tuwaine all turned in. You watched as the fire burnt in front of you and Tom, the yellow and orange flame.
You weren’t totally sloshed and neither was Tom, maybe just a little tipsy, a little more relaxed, “Tom, I’m sorry,” You spoke, “What happened between us all those nights ago - It just really hurt, Tom.”
“I can’t keep telling you how sorry I am, I fucked up,” He sighs.
You sigh, “We both fucked up, Tom. I should’ve told you how I was feeling and I shouldn’t have made you wait for me.”
“And I shouldn’t have fucked someone else,”
“You had every right to-”
“NO I DIDN’T.” He raises his voice, “I shouldn’t have slept with someone else, because I am so in love with you.”
You couldn’t believe what he had told you, “Tom I-”
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to, I just- I needed you to know,” He stands, walking away before you can say anything else.
A U T U M N
ALTHOUGH YOU KNEW HOW TOM FELT ABOUT YOU, you still decided to hangout with him, be friends. Figure out what you wanted to do about it. Do about your feelings for him. You felt like you were leading him on but every time you asked him about it, he assured you differently. He was okay with being friends, but you’ll always know he’ll want more.
You and Tom walked through campus, the leaves that blossomed now orange and yellow, falling from the sky - crunching under your feet, a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hands. You had a warm navy winter coat over your figure. Tom linked his arm with yours.
“I’ve got class,” He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket with a reminder telling him about his class.
You smile pulling him closer, “I’ll see you later then,” He hugs you and you tighten it, not wanting to let go of him, but reluctantly doing so. You watch as he walks away, Katie walking up behind you with her own cup of Coffee.
“Where’s he going?” Katie asks you and you look over at her.
“Class.” The word comes out of your mouth, almost as if you’re sad to watch him walk away. That’s because you were sad to watch him walk away.
Katie chuckles, “Let’s get back to the dorm, Ciera bought donuts!” She jumps, excited to go back.
“What kind?” You question your best friend.
She freezes, “Well she’s my girlfriend so,”
“That means that she was clearly thinking of you, so I take it they bought-”
“Jam!” Katie smiles, as the two of you walk, she skips.
This is what you wanted with Tom. You wanted him to buy you donuts and for you to get excited when he doesn’t even ask what type you want - you wanted him to just surprise you with the smallest things. Remember the smallest details. But you had missed it all, every morning, Tom brought you a coffee as the two of you headed to the only class the two of you had together, that he hadn’t asked you for your order at all, or your birthday earlier that month, he brought you your favourite soft drink, even though he hadn’t asked you what it was. Not to mention he wrapped your gift in your favourite colour. But you were so blindsided to all of that. You weren’t seeing it at all.
You got back to your dorm and left Katie and Ciera to watch TV on the couch when you headed into your room. You sat on your bed, as you looked at the shelf that sat across from it, Tom’s present sat perfectly on it. It wasn’t much, it was just a Viynl of your favourite TV Character, he had told you he wanted to get you something else - but they didn’t have it in stock anywhere. To which you assured him it was okay. You sighed at you just looked at it; store at it. Almost a minute had passed - what seemed like the longest minute of your life. So many thoughts had travelled through your head. So many questions.
All of them unanswered.
All, except for one. This question had been everything since the night you and Tom slept together for the first and only time, but looking at the present. Thinking about the late night studies or when the two of you recently developed the stupid habit of meeting in the library when the two of you couldn’t sleep, or just going on walks around the campus - laughing with each other. You were so afraid. But you were stupid for being so afriad. Tom had been a better friend than anyone could have ever been (except for Katie and Ciera of course), you and Tom had a connection that was irreplaceable. Somewhat unbreakable. It’s hard to think that you hated him. hard to think that you found him unbearable. But it was also hard to think that you could avoid him. Ignore him. Stop being friends with him.
But you just ended up together in the end anyway.
So what was the point? What was the point running from something that was always going to catch upto you anyway?
NIGHT FELL ON THE CAMPUS, you weren’t exactly sure what you were doing but it felt like the night you caught Tom in bed with that girl all over again. But this time you knew you wouldn’t. Because Tom assured you he wouldn’t. Not till you told him no. So you took his absolute word for it.
You looked at the large doors of the Frat House that sat in front of you, knocking violently, waiting for someone to open the door - It was Haz, and although you didn’t say anything. He knew what you were going to do. So he shut the door, and you took a step back composing yourself, readying yourself for what you were about to do and you could never be truely ready, but you had to trust your gut on this one.
You weren’t on the doorstep anymore, you were on the ground, in front of the stairs that lead to the House as Tom walked outside. You weren’t wearing anything special. You were wearing your bike shorts and a white shirt. You were wearing white runners and ankle-high socks. Your hair the same as it always was. You looked at the boy and his curls with a smile.
He knew what was coming - but he let you speak, “Tom, for a long time. I was scared. So fucking scared that I pushed you away. If I’m going to be completely one-hundred percent honest with you, I’ve had feelings for you from the start. But I let my thoughts get the better of me. I let myself think you were some douchebag, when in reality - you’re the exact opposite. You’re the kindest, sweetest, most caring person in the world. God, this is so cliché.” You chuckles as he laughs along with you, however, you start to tear up a little, overcome with emotions, “I always thought I was incapable of finding someone to love, someone who would love me the same way that Ciera and Katie love each other or the same way that Patrick Verona and Julia Stiles love each other.”
Tom smiles at the last reference - you had forced him to watch 10 Things I Hate About You on one of those lonely nights the two of you spent unable to sleep and you told him you cried so much at the movie - he assured you he wouldn’t. But he failed.
“Look Tom, what I’m trying to say is that-” You stop yourself for a moment. It takes everything in your body to finally spit it out. Say what you’ve been wanting to say and when you do. It feels so good.
“I... Love.. You.” You said it.
Tom bolts over to you, pressing his lips to yours it’s more desperate and hungry something that reminded you of the first night the two of you kissed. But it was just as magical, just like every single kiss to come, just like every single peck on the cheek. Every single laugh. Every single smile, hug, handhold. Every single night where the two of you will just lay next to each other. The movie nights, the dates.
All of it.
Because every single time it does. Every single time any of those happens.
You somehow manage to fall in love with him all over again.
103 notes · View notes
elena-reina · 3 years
Text
A Soul Part 2 - Draco Malfoy x Reader
Warnings: Did someone ask for fluff?
A/N: I didn't think that many of you were going to like the first part, I stand pleasantly corrected. I've gotten many requests/comments for a part 2, so here you all go 🥰🤍
Part 1
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"Y/N!"
Your bloodshot-eyes shot open, trying to catch onto anything within reach as you tumbled to the floor. The only thing you could possibly grab onto were the bedsheets, but they were no help as they slipped through your fingers. Hitting the floor with a loud thud, you groaned. You felt your heart racing as you pushed yourself up onto the palms of your hands. You were peacefully sleeping for the first time in a few months, even if it was in the middle of that day.
Giggling up a storm, Sylvia couldn't contain her laughter.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think you would have woken up that startled," she laughed, lending out her hand to help you up. Your gaze went from her hand, to her face, and back to her hand. You huffed, grabbing onto her as she hoisted you up to your feet.
"Maybe just try shaking my shoulder or something next time will you?" you mumbled, rubbing the sore side of your head. She began to laugh again, welcoming you in for a hug, apologizing once more.
"There's going to be a party tonight, are you up for it?" she smiled, "Well, I'm not really asking you. I'm stating."
Looking back at your, now messy, bed you sat down. The dull and monotoned atmosphere from outside drained any motivation you once had in you. Since your break up, you didn't want to be seen anywhere that he might be. This included any classes you had together or even going to eat at the same time in the Grand Hall. You didn't realize how much of your day you spent working around his schedule to see him before the breakup.
You stopped hanging out with your friends, telling them you had a lot to do in school and blaming it on other stupid things, such as you needing to write a paper for class or were too tired to go out. In the beginning, it was believable but you were running out of ideas fast.
At first, you were angry. Angry at the thought of how it all went down. How dare he talk to you the way he did. How dare he make such a nasty judgement on your character after being together for so long.
Didn't he know you better than that?
What else can you expect from the Slytherin Prince who had such a prominent reputation to uphold. But then, that anger soon turned into sadness. You felt rejected, like you didn’t matter anymore. His words cut deep like a knife, making you feel like you were nothing in his world.
"Just to think I told someone like you that I loved you,” he sneered, “And to make matters worst, you go around parading it to everyone the very next morning.”
“I never told a soul,” you whispered.
You grimaced remembering what he said to you. He hadn't tried reaching out to you at all. Just like you were avoiding him, he was avoiding you even more.
What if he was at the party?
What if you ran into him?
What if he-
"Hellooo, Earth to Y/N?"
Shaking the thoughts out of your head, you regained your focus on your friend who looked at you with curiosity.
"Not tonight, Sylvia," you sighed. She let out a loud groan.
"No, Y/N. No," she firmly bored.
"What? I-"
"No. We are going out. You've been blowing me off for weeks." She was not going to take no for an answer. "I don't know what's going on with you because you won't tell me, which hurts my heart a lil' bit, but nonetheless, it'll be good for you."
You hadn't told anyone about your breakup, not that it mattered. Your relationship was such a big secret that you didn't bother to tell anyone since most people didn't know about it in the first place. Well, that was until it somehow leaked out; Still not knowing how it happened in the first place, but again, it's not like any of that mattered anymore.
You tried to cover up the fact that you were completely heartbroken, well, to the best of your ability. You would spend countless nights thinking about everything that went down and what you could’ve done to prevent the break up from happening in the first place.
Maybe if you had just gone to bed earlier that day, everything would've been fine.
"Syl, c'mon. Next time," you sighed wanting to be done with this conversation.
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah and then next time you'll say 'next time,' when will this end. What happened? Did you and Malfoy break up or something?"
Your heart dropped at the mention of Draco. The thought of the break up, even though it had been a month or two now, was still a sore spot. You reminisced about the multiple nights you spent wrapped up in his arms, just the two of you; Missing his cologne that would linger on your clothes after being with each other. You missed him, but you knew better.
"I don't want to talk about it," you dismissed.
Your response was enough to answer her question that she didn't feel the need to press further. "I understand, but please can we go out tonight? It's a Halloween party, let me get your mind off of things. We'll be dressed up in costumes, you'll basically a whole new person."
You crossed your arms, biting the inside of your lip. "Fine."
A wide grin spread across her face as she jumped up and down with glee. She pulled you into a bone-crushing hug and turned around.
"Alright, let's get dressed, we're leaving in an hour."
Looking at yourself in the mirror, it had been a while since you dressed up, even if it was a costume. It felt good to be able to call yourself beautiful, even though you hadn't felt like it.
During the beginning of October, you and a couple of friends went costume shopping in Diagon Alley. You wanted to get something simple, but that was not possible with your friends. They loved to dress very sexy, and of course you had to follow suit. At the time you were on board with it, you knew Draco would have been drooling over you. But now, you didn't have the same confidence you once did.
The costume your friends picked out for you to buy was a devil's costume. It was a thick red long-sleeved latex leotard that came with red devil horns that actually looked like it was coming out of your head. Your wore red heels that really accentuated your long legs, even giving you a boost in the back. Your makeup made your features pop out, giving you quite a godly facial structure.
You heard a knock on the door. "Y/N are you done yet? We're coming in."
Slyvia popped her head in and looked at you. Her eyes widened, walking straight towards you. She grabbed onto your hands and turned you to face her as her eyes traveled up and down. Following behind her was Adrian and a couple of other friends.
"HOLY CRAP!" She gasped, cheesing from ear to ear.
She was wearing a skin tight black cat costume with thigh-high boots, cat ears, and a long tail. She looked amazing.
"You look... just wow," she gaped.
You felt uncomfortable and guilty because your original intention was to 'wow' Draco. You didn't want to get the attention of anyone else but him.
"I don't know, Syl. It might be too much," you shied away.
"No such thing," Adrian butted in, dressed as a vampire. "You look ravishing."
"But what if Draco-"
"BAH!" Adrian groaned, flicking your forehead, "Forget about him. Tonight's about letting loose and having fun."
He was right. You nodded and grabbed a long coat to cover everything up and keep yourself warm outside. With one final look in the mirror, you walked out of the door.
You arrived to Hogsmeade where the party was full on going in a huge tent. You could hear the music, even outside, and you could see people dancing through the opening. A smile forming on your lips as you walk inside the tent. Everyone was dressed up in costumes having the time of their lives.
Slipping off your coat and hanging it on one of the hooks, you joined your friends to the dance floor.
"Tonight is all about having fun!" Sylvia shouted, moving rhythmically with you. And that's exactly what you did for the first time in a while. You had fun, Draco never crossed your mind once the entire time. You were finally enjoying yourself for the night.
A few hours had passed and you were definitely becoming exhausted. Your friends would drag you along everywhere with them. They didn't want to let you be alone and for the most part they didn't want to let you to focus on anything else but having a good time.
You danced, went to snack and drink, back to dancing, and then would attempt to takw a break- which wasn't long because they would drag you back to the floor. You definitely got a bunch of stares from other students because they've never seen you dress the way you had tonight. However, this only fueled your confidence.
You grabbed onto Slyvia's arm and tugged her towards you. Bringing your lips near her ear, you spoke. "I'm going to go to the restroom real quick!" you said just aloud enough for her to hear.
She nodded. "Okay! We'll be right here!"
You turned and began pushing past the sea of people, heading towards the opening of the tent. You mumbled quiet 'excuse me's' and 'sorry's' as you forced your way. Keeping your head down to watch your steps, you didn't see where you were going and roughly bumped into someone, almost falling. However an arm reached out and held onto your frame, holding you from falling backwards.
"I'm so sorry, I-"
You stopped speaking once your gaze lifted staring into the eyes of the person who caught you.
Those grey eyes that you could stare into forever.
His lanky fingers were wrapped perfectly around your waist, holding you up by the arch in your back. You couldn't read his facial expression. He wasn't one to dress up, but he was dressed as what you could guess was a Prince, of course. All he had on was a black suit with a green cape and silver crown.
Regaining your composure, you cleared your throat and quietly bowed your head. You felt self-conscious and insecure now that you felt more exposed knowing that he would have loved this outfit on you, had you been together.
"Sorry.. I have to go," you spoke quieter with each word, not even sure if he could hear you and rushed to quickly get out of his sight. You could feel his eyes burning holes through the back of your head- or so you thought. Your eyes began to sting and the last thing you wanted him to see was you upset.
Finally, making it through, you were outside and began walking to the nearest open building. Breathing in the fresh air, the only sounds heard was the fast-pace clicking of your heels and the faint music fading the further you walked. You wiped away any set of tears that threatened to spill. You were not going to cry over him.
Walking to a building not too far in the distance, you leaned your back against the wall and stared up at the night sky. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths. You’re sick of pretending not to care and having him as your weak spot.
Your head fell into your hands as you couldn't control your emotions anymore. You just had to let it out, you denied yourself the pleasure of expressing your true emotions for too long. The truth of it all, it hurt. It hurt giving your all to someone just for them to turn around and stab you in the back.
You couldn't help but ask how.
How did anyone find out in the first place.
"Y/N?"
You sniffed, wiping your tear-stained cheeks. It was a bit cold outside, but nothing you couldn't handle. Plastering a forced smile onto your face, you looked up.
"Hi Luna."
"What's the matter? Not enjoying the party?" she asked, joining you against the wall. She was wearing the head of a lion that you recognized she would wear when supporting Gryffindor. It normally would've brought a genuine smile to your face, but nothing could lift your spirits right now.
Luna gave off an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it was the fact that she had stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she had chosen to wear a necklace of butterbeer caps.
"No, no I am. I just," you paused, "I needed some fresh air, away from the loudness. How have you been?"
"Oh, it's been alright. A bit lonely without being in classes often, Ginny's been nice, though. She stopped two boys in our Transfiguration class calling me 'Loony' the other day."
You nodded. You didn't know what to say.
"I can see you've been crying, it is an awfully quiet night," she said out of the blue.
You didn't speak. The cold air brushed your exposed skin, raising goosebumps.
"Luna, can I ask you something?"
Maybe you shouldn't. Sometimes ignorance is bliss. But in this moment, is it?
"Of course," she smiled.
"Do you.. do you know anything about the gossip about me and-"
"-You and Malfoy?" she interjected.
You nodded, quietly.
"There was a rumor going around that you and Malfoy began dating. But I think that surfaced a while ago," she said confusing herself, "Was there truth behind it?"
You ignored her question. It isn't true anymore. "How did you hear that rumor?"
She looked up at the stars. "I think I overheard Marcus Flint or Terence Higgs talking about it. If I remember clearly, they saw you one night together with Malfoy cuddling or did they say snogging? I don't remember clearly."
You let out a sob again and pushed your face into your hands, crying.
"I'm sorry Y/N, was it something I said?" Luna frowned, placing her hand on your shoulder in a comforting way.
"No.. No, I'm sorry Luna- I don't mean to," you couldn't find the right words, but you knew you had to get it out, "Draco and I were, I guess, a thing? If you could even call it that."
She listened attentively.
"He wanted to keep us a secret because of his reputation and I knew I wasn't being truthful in the sense that I wasn't a pureblood. But that was only because I knew he would disapprove. So maybe it is all my fault, but he accused me of telling everyone.. and I- I didn't."
Luna hadn't spoke for a while, not that you even noticed her presence had disappeared, but had been silently replaced. It was not until you took some time to calm yourself and lift your face from your hands.
Expecting to see Luna, you spoke.
"I'm sorry Luna, I didn't mean to explode like that. Thank you for listening to me."
No response.
"Luna-"
Your eyes met his again and startled you. How had you not felt that Luna left.
“We need to talk.”
You shook your head and pushed yourself off of the wall, going to walk away. "There's nothing to be said, Malfoy. You made yourself very clear that day."
He stepped forward, wrapping his hand around your wrist to stop you from walking. You frowned, refusing to look at him.
"Draco.. please," your voice cracked, "Don't do this to me. I'm barely just starting to come to terms with everything. And if you decide to stomp all over me again, I won't be able to put myself back together this time."
Hearing these words crushed Draco. He overheard your conversation with Luna and felt immense regret from that night. Knowing he was the one who made you feel this way, the one who broke down such a beautiful soul took a toll on him.
He hadn't been doing so hot since the breakup. He had been more snarky and bitter overall to everyone he came into contact with. He was embarrassed and felt used when he thought you had told everyone about your, once, secret relationship. He felt betrayed, and he could handle betrayal from anyone but you. You were what set him over the edge; Especially after hearing that you weren't a pureblood was just the icing on the cake.
So he handled it the only way he was used to, by cutting you out. Cutting you out of his life, like he did with everyone else, was the easiest way. No matter how much you were hurting, his selfishness outshined his own pain.
And seeing you tonight only brought back that pain back to his chest. He saw you when you first entered the party with a happy smile on your face. His heart ached seeing you so happy. Happy without him, and looking the way you did tonight. Nothing could have prepared him for being in the same room as your presence. He couldn't help but let his eyes travel up and down the body he once used to call all his.
He would catch others staring at you with a burning feeling of jealousy that others dared even looking your way. The way your hair perfectly framed your face, the crinkle of your nose when you laughed, or the way your hips moved in rhythm with the music. He wanted nothing more than to march straight towards you, wrap his arm around your waist, and pull you in for a much needed kiss.
"So let me speak."
He turned you to face him. You wouldn't look him in his face. Instead you crossed your arms over your chest looking down at your feet, which only pushed up your chest, distracting Draco. He gulped, diverting his eyes back up to your eyes, trying his best to focus.
"I'm not going to apologize for what happened. I meant almost everything I said-"
You scoffed, shaking your head. You didn't want to hear any of this. But before you could even get the chance you walk away, he moved in front of you, blocking any sense of escape you had.
"I, first, want to hear from you- why did you hide your status from me?"
Is he really asking this right now? You stayed silent, partly stunned by what he asked.
"I don't see how any of this is relevant anymore. I hid it because I was falling for you and I knew you'd never be there to catch me if you knew," you mumbled, fearing that if you spoke any louder you wouldn't be able to control yourself, "I know it was selfish of me.. but didn't see any harm in it since our relationship was a secret anyway. I didn't lie.. I just didn't want to bring it up."
His eyes were scanning the area, looking around to see if anyone had spotted the two of you together. You looked at him, observing him as his eyes searched around.
Was he still embarrassed of being seen with you?
"I'm tired, Draco, it's been months. You've said yourself that we're over- that you don't love someone like me," you said telling him what you thought was the truth. He lowered his head.
"I've realized you weren't the one who spoke about us," he began, "I actually have known for a while, but I couldn't bring myself to face you after everything that went down. I was blinded by my rage. I wanted you to hurt inside just as much as I did, if not more. I had never fallen in love with anyone before, and I have no idea how."
A single tear rolled down your cheek. “Please, I can't,” you repeat, shaking your head, you were trying to prepare yourself for another heartbreak. You take a deep breath and quickly wipe off your tears.
A cold breeze brushed by again, making you hold yourself tighter. Draco noticed and untied the cape from around his neck. He draped it over your shoulders to provide you warmth. He wanted to hold you in his arms instead, but he didn't know how you would react.
"So much has changed this year. I've pushed away everyone. My friends, family... I'm not great with apologies, but I'm sorry. I should have just heard you out that day instead of staying trapped up in my stupid head," he paused, "I miss you. I miss everything about you, and seeing you here tonight only reignited that dull flame in my heart."
You were at a loss for words, almost forgetting how to breath. His eyes were glossing over.
"I wasn't being truthful that day when I told you I didn't love you. I do, I can't hide it. I love you so fucking much it hurts. Knowing that you're crying all because of me makes me want to rip out my hair and remove every ounce of sadness from your body."
You took a step closer so you were standing right under him. He placed his hand on your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb lightly.
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"May I?" he asked. You nodded. He swiftly bent down and grabbed your waist with his other hand to close any space left between the two of you. His lips connected with yours hungrily, filled with immense passion. Your hands traveled up his chest and went around his neck. You missed the feeling of his silky hair running through your hands. Lightly tugging at it, a small moan escaped from his lips that molded perfectly with yours, breathing in your heavenly scent that he yearned for so desperately.
You pulled away and rested your head on his chest, enjoying his embrace. He didn't mind, he missed holding you in his arms. Feeling you wear his clothes again, even if it was just a cape, brought back a smile to his face.
"I don't know what I was thinking, really. I wasn't thinking at all. I'm really, really sorry Y/N," his voice cracked this time, "I regret it deeply."
You bit your lip and lifted your head. "What about everyone else?"
"What about them."
"Your reputation-"
"Fuck what everyone else thinks. The only one that matters is you."
Your heart skipped a beat. "You really mean it?"
"With all my heart, yes. So much," he breathed.
At last, a blush rose to your cheeks shining under the moonlight. You couldn't believe this was actually happening right now. You couldn't help but think that if Slyvia had never convinced you to come out tonight, none of this would be happening.
"I just have to say that you look absolutely breathtaking tonight. I can't handle everyone else looking at you when I want you to belong to me and only me."
"I did originally buy this for you," you spoke lightly as he smirked. He hands traveled down your body and onto your thighs. You instinctively jumped while he held onto you by your legs. Turning around, your back was against the wall as he towered over you.
"Be mine?"
You couldn't suppress your happiness. You nodded your head, and reconnected your lips.
"I'll never hurt you again, on Merlin, never again," he mumbled against your lips.
---
For those who wanted to be tagged in part 2:
@elikaberry @305weasley @theothermaximoff @cedrictodeadric @dracossimp01 @aes-99s @shortstackmagee @alice-the-nerd @jquick-18 @dracomalfoyreader @tanyatrehan
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qqueenofhades · 3 years
Note
Modern AU Heartrender Husbands gives me the vibes of like they'll watch eurovision bc Fedyor wanted to and Ivan only begrudgingly agreed but in the end it's him who's standing really close to the TV with a bottle of beer loudly criticising the jury vote
Anon, your Mind. As 100% ever, I am so very easy to enable. As before, this is set in Phantom!Verse, and serves as a sequel of sorts to this (and as a further prequel to PEL).
Brighton Beach, 2014
It’s their first spring in their new home – they arrived in America in August 2013 and got this place, fittingly, right around Orthodox Christmas in January 2014 – and that means many things to them. Their apartment is in a formerly rent-controlled brownstone tenement right off the boardwalk, but prior to their arrival, it was occupied for fifty years by an old bat from Krasnodar Krai who apparently never, ever, threw anything away. (Fedyor is too scared to ask if she actually died in this apartment and her mummified corpse is lurking at the bottom of all the junk.) That is why he and Ivan were able to afford it, at least, but now that the weather is warmer, they have been spending all day cleaning, hauling boxes of crap to the dumpster, and trying in vain to get the smell of pickled cabbage out of the kitchen. It looks exactly like your Great Aunt Masha’s house, the one that traumatized you as a child and has never left your nightmares since. Home sweet home.
The upside is that the location is great, the apartment is surprisingly spacious and lovely – a big bedroom, a bathroom with two sinks and a deep claw-footed tub, a living room with high windows that let in lots of light, original crown molding and hardwood floors – and if it was located in the really chic parts of Brooklyn and inhabited by a tech-startup hipster rather than a Russian émigré spinster with definite hoarding tendencies, it would rent for some astronomical monthly sum. Fedyor has a three-ring binder full of paint swatches, sketches, furniture samples, and other plans to give it a total overhaul (he’s thinking a nice pale green for the living room?) But the one thing that spring definitely means is Eurovision, and it is just the ticket to relax from their grueling schedule of throwing boxes of junk away and hoping they don’t stumble upon a withered hand in a glass jar. He likes America and he’s excited for their new life, for all that they had no choice but to leave Russia in a hurry, but Eurovision is Eurovision.
Actually watching it, of course, is easier said than done. For one thing, Fedyor can’t find a blasted station that is airing it, when he could have just switched on the TV and found it right away back home. For another, Ivan is deeply dubious of the whole endeavor, having watched five minutes of it once when he was eighteen and turning it off in disgust, never to return. Fedyor spends a lot of time wheedling him to give it another chance. “Come on, Vanya. It’s fun!”
“It is a lot of homosexuals gyrating in leather to very bad music,” Ivan snaps. “They look ridiculous. And sound even worse.”
Fedyor glances at them – the fact that they’re sitting on the couch, he’s on Ivan’s lap with his legs draped over Ivan’s thigh, and Ivan’s arms wrapped around his waist – and coughs. “I’m not sure how to break this to you, darling,” he says, “but you are also a homosexual.”
“Maybe, but you would never catch me dead up there.”
“Of course not.” Fedyor rolls his eyes. “You might actually have to smile.”
Ivan makes a scoffing noise. Then he notices the full-on puppy-dog face that Fedyor is now giving him, and says, “Oh no. Oh no, Fedya. Do not look at me like that.”
“Why not?” Fedyor shamelessly snuggles closer. “Is it working?”
The predictable outcome is that Ivan grudgingly agrees to watch it with him, though they’re on American time now and Eurovision Song Contest 2014, held in Copenhagen, Denmark, is six hours ahead of them. Ivan thinks that it’s stupid to sit down and watch a lot of gyrating homosexuals in the middle of the day, when there’s still so much work to do, and tries to demand that they just watch the recording later. Fedyor says this is nonsense, you simply cannot watch a recording of Eurovision, and after a lot of investigation, finds the online streaming channel on his laptop and hooks it up to the TV so they can watch it there. Then he prepares his popcorn, his alcoholic beverages, and his glitter glasses, corrals his recalcitrant husband, and readies himself to experience pure joy. No wonder Ivan doesn’t get it.
However, the effect is both swift and remarkable. By the end of the first semi-final, Ivan is put out about the fact that Russia came seventh in the popular vote but was knocked down to eleven by the jury (this is evidence of an anti-Russian conspiracy, according to him) and when only Moldova, a tiny no-name non-EU former Soviet state, deigns to award them the full twelve points, he is openly incredulous. “Moldova?! That is all we get?! MOLDOVA?!”
“Well,” Fedyor says delicately. “There is that little situation in Ukraine, so I’m afraid we are not that popular right now.”
“That is bullshit,” Ivan grouses. “This is a song contest. The Tolmachevy Sisters are not Vladimir Putin. I am sure they have worked very hard to be here.”
Fedyor glances at him and wisely decides not to say anything. He is likewise a little peeved when the Russian contestants get booed by the Danish audience, but Ivan looks like he’s about to leap through the screen and throttle every single one of them. He thrusts out a hand. “Give me a drink, Fedya. I need it to suffer this indignity.”
Fedyor cracks the lid off a cold one and hands it over – there is the Brighton Bazaar just a few blocks away, stocked with Russian goods, so they are spared the ordeal of drinking Yankee beer – and Ivan takes a long slug. He thinks they can skip watching the second semi-final two nights later, since Russia isn’t in it, but Fedyor puts it on anyway. They both like Austria and “Rise Like a Phoenix,” sung by the bearded drag queen Conchita Wurst (there have been a few dumb comments about her from the usual suspects), but Ivan hits a fist on the arm of the sofa. “She was not better than the Russian girls,” he says loyally. “I still think that they should be the ones to win.”
“Right, well,” Fedyor says. “I think the only ones less likely to win are the Brits, and they never win, so we might be waiting a while.”
The grand finale, on May tenth, is an inadvertently hysterical exercise. They get up early and put on the pregame show, like the Americans do with their bewildering fixation on the Super Bowl, and Ivan gets even more furious when the Tolmachevy Sisters are booed again. “Are they not supposed to love everyone at this glitter bacchanalia? So much for the Scandinavians being tolerant and accepting people! The song is nice! They are nice girls! What is wrong with them?!”
“Come over here and give me a cuddle, Vanya,” Fedyor suggests. “Otherwise you will blow a blood vessel long before the show starts.”
Ivan growls like an escaped tiger from the zoo, but consents to sit down next to Fedyor. They both drink copiously once the festivities get underway, singing along loudly (and not that melodiously) to the various entries, Fedyor’s arm draped around Ivan’s neck as he sits on his lap and critically judges the acts before the official results pop up. Once again, the only twelve-point awards Russia gets are from former Soviet countries (Azerbaijan and Belarus) and Ivan looks like he’s going to have a conniption before Fedyor kisses him and he gets distracted for the next three minutes. “This is disgraceful,” he mutters, when they break away. “Not you, Fedya. Just the horrible way they have clearly rigged this show against us.”
“You know,” Fedyor says. “That’s Eurovision. You declare war on your neighbors when they don’t give you twelve points. Now they have the EU, they’re not supposed to fight anymore, this is the only way they can get all those old rivalries out. Just be glad that Australia isn’t in this year. You might have really blown a gasket.”
“Australia?!” Ivan shifts Fedyor to a more comfortable position on his lap and grabs for his third bottle of beer. “AUSTRALIA IS NOT IN EUROPE! It is not even anywhere NEAR Europe! WHY DOES AUSTRALIA GET TO BE IN EUROVISION!?!”
Fedyor laughs out loud. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Ivan says. “But this is still the stupidest thing I have ever seen.”
“Shh.” Fedyor nuzzles him. “Just give in, Vanya. Just give in.”
Ivan consents to turn his grumbling down to a simmer, and is somewhat mollified that Russia comes in sixth overall, which is better than even Fedyor thought they were going to do. Austria takes the champion’s crown, they can both agree that Conchita Wurst deserves it, and get up and dance around their still-junk-cluttered living room as she gives her bravissima performance. A few things have been thrown during the judging, but they can’t add much to the existing mess, and in Brighton Beach, “damage caused to the apartment because Russia got shafted during Eurovision finals” might actually be a legitimate excuse. As he leans against Ivan’s chest and grins into his neck, Fedyor has to admit that this place may just feel like home yet.
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writtenonreceipts · 3 years
Note
Will you write a part 2 of a chain, a box, a lie where they get back together?
Fixed it for you, sorry to leave you hanging for so long.  Part One is here.
May still be a bit angsty. I’m not sure how I feel about this one but oh well….at least I didn’t go with the version where someone had to die to get them back together.  Seriously, I wrote three different versions of how this would go aaaaand still not satisfied with it... enjoy?
#
Fools in Love
The bed was too large. Too large, too cold, too empty.
Aelin rolled onto her side and glanced at the alarm clock barely visible amid a pile of books, chocolate wrappers, and tissues.  Cold red letters blared back at her.  
7:54 am.
It took her a few minutes to orientate herself and try to remember what had woken her up.  It wasn’t until her phone gave a second loud chirp that she realized some idiot was texting her so early on a Saturday.
Groaning, Aelin fumbled for her phone.  Unfortunately, her morning coordination was crap and she ended up knocking it to the ground with a clatter.
At her feet, Fleetfoot gave a loud huff and shifted until her paws were digging into Aelin’s calves. The puppy behaved like a temperamental teenager more often than not.  
By the time she found her phone on the ground, Aelin knew she wasn’t going back to bed.  Instead, she rubbed her eyes and stuffed her feet in her slippers.  Fleetfoot remained blissfully asleep as Aelin shuffled into the kitchen.
Damn dog.
Aelin stretched as she put on the tea pot for some tea and was about to open her phone to read the texts when someone knocked at her door.  She froze.  Who the hell?
She had a pistol stashed in a safe in her room, but that seemed too far away.  Aelin did the only logical thing she could think of grabbed her cast iron skillet settled on the kitchen counter.  No one she knew would be up this early.  Not even her landlord.  
Aelin opened her phone ready to dial the police when she saw the texts.
>>Can we talk?
>>Please?
Another knock came at the door.  
Aelin cursed as she kept her grip on the skillet.  Even if she hadn’t seen the texts or seen his name, she should have known.  Just to be safe she looked through the peephole. Once again, standing just outside her door was Rowan.  Once again, looking like hell.
She knew she would regret it, but Aelin locked her phone and slid the chain from off the door.  As she eased the door open, Aelin could see the surprise register on Rowans face that she’d actually woken up to his texts. Let alone come and open the door to him. But that wasn’t what surprised her. It was how bloodshot his eyes were. It was the circles brewing beneath those eyes and how that intensely passionate gleam had been snuffed out.
“Rowan,” she whispered. His name on her lips was hard to hear. She felt her heart cinch painfully at it, but figured cursing at him wouldn’t be helpful.
The man merely stared at her as he leaned against the door jam.  It wasn’t raining, which was a small blessing, so he was dry this time.  But his hair was still a mess, his clothes still rumpled.
He merely stared at her with tired eyes and a tired body.  It seemed to be a miracle that he was still standing.
“I didn’t text you back.” She couldn’t keep her own exhaustion from her voice as she spoke.
Rowan exhaled sharply and cursed. “I know.  I’m sorry, I was already on my way over here and I wasn’t thinking and—” He let himself trail off.  A small spark of hope flickered in his eyes. “You can tell me to get out when ever and I’ll listen.”
It took her a moment, but Aelin finally nodded and stepped aside. “Come in.”
Rowan did.  And as he stepped around her, he noticed the skillet she still held.
“Are you going to beat me with that?” he asked.
She scowled at the amusement in his voice. “I’m thinking of it, considering you woke me up at eight in the morning.  On a Saturday.”
He at least at the decency to look abashed.  
A part of her wondered if she was being stupid to let this happen.  To let him in and either talk or stare or yell.  Whatever they ended up doing it was stupid.  But then…they were adults.  She was twenty-five and he was twenty-eight.  They could be in the same room together.  They needed to be in the same room together.  Their friend group had merged into one giant conglomerate that they had to get used to one another again.
The apartment was silent as she shut and locked the door behind him.  Aelin didn’t bother looking at him as she headed back to the kitchen and set the skillet back on the counter.  The tea pot began to sputter but Aelin was feeling like she needed something far stronger now.
Running a hand through her hair she looked back to Rowan.  He was still standing in the middle of the entry way hands in his pockets. His leather jacket was open displaying a graphic t-shirt from some grunge band they’d discovered together.
Despite everything, he still looked good.  Aelin hated him for it.  She turned away and started her coffee machine.  Tea would wait for another time.
“What do you want to talk about Rowan?” she asked.  Steeling herself, Aelin turned back to face him.  She leaned against the kitchen counter, ready to lunge for the skillet if need be.  She knew however Rowan wouldn’t hurt her.  She just wanted to make sure she would be able to cause some damage if he pissed her off enough.
He ran a hand through his hair and looked anywhere but at her.
It stung.  That reaction.  She knew she’d broken his heart.  She’d broken her own too.  But it was better.  It was better to walk away from those feelings because honestly, who the hell would want her around for so long?  It was only a matter of time before the ball would drop and they would both realize how strange and deranged their relationship was.  Ten months be damned.
“We never talked about what happened, Aelin,” he said.  Finally, he locked eyes with her.  Aelin looked away quickly.  She still got shivers hearing him say her name.  So carefully, so gently.
“We did—” she tried to speak, but Rowan cut her off.
“And I don’t mean the fight we had and the words we threw at each other,” he said.  His words cut right over hers with some of the same passion he’d once had.  Aelin couldn’t bare to see if his eyes were just as bright. “I mean about what happened with us.”
It was Aelin’s turn to look anywhere but him.  She focused on the space behind him, to the wall where she used to keep a framed picture of them together.  It was tucked beneath her bed because she’d been up most of last night crying over it. But she would not admit to that. It was her fault after all that they’d broken up.
“I just want to talk.” He sounded helpless enough that Aelin had to look at him.  His eyes were desperate, almost pleading as he looked at her.  The usual short hair cut he had was growing out enough that his bangs flopped in his face making him appear younger than he really was.
“We did talk,” Aelin said. She ran a hand through her hair and silently cursed herself.  She was wearing his damned shirt like an idiot.  Hell, she couldn’t have put on a sweatshirt?
“Aelin,” Rowan said exasperated.  Whenever he got frustrated like this he began pacing and today was no exception.  He didn’t walk towards her, but rather to the couch and back, his footsteps heavy on the floor. “I want to talk about us. I want to talk about how you told me that you could do this anymore and that it was over.  And nothing else.  What am I supposed to do with that?  How am I supposed to get over you based on that?”
The back of her eyes burned, but Aelin wouldn’t let him see her tears.  She’d cried enough over this the past several weeks.  Talking about it wouldn’t help.  Talking about it would only reveal the truth and the truth was an ugly, wretched thing.
“I need coffee,” she muttered.  
Without looking up, she went to the coffee pot and pulled a cup to the brim.  She took a long sip without her usual additives.  All she really needed was the rush of caffeine.  Something to clear her head and help her think. The bitter roast of the coffee beans certainly helped with that.  Who the hell drank a blend this dark?
As soon as she had the thought, she realized that this must have been left over from Rowan’s stash that he’d kept here.
Aelin cursed and set the cup aside. “So, I’m supposed to be responsible for why you can’t move on?  I’m responsible for your own misery?”
She knew of course that it was her fault.  She loved him and still ended it.  She loved him and still walked away.  
“Ten months together Aelin,” Rowan said.  He stopped pacing now and stepped toward her. “I deserve more than that.  We deserve more than a few sentences and shouted words. I have to believe that.”
There was too much Aelin wanted to say.  Too much she could say.  But saying it wouldn’t make any of this better.
Scrubbing a hand over her eyes and the tears forming there, Aelin faced him full on. “We were working so much, too far apart and…and I just couldn’t…we just—”
“We just weren’t good together?” he finished for her, a disbelieving sort of smile on his mouth.
Even though he didn’t know those were the same words she’d pretended she would say to him—it still cut her to the core to hear them.  We’re just too good together.
Her lip wobbled.
“You were never good at being honest with me,” Rowan observed, “even at our best, I always knew you were holding something back.  Keeping something hidden.”
Aelin had to bite down on her lower lip, but she knew it was too late, knew he could already see her breaking.  
In the living room, the infomercials continued to play.  Aelin could think back to one day early on in their relationship when she’d taken a sick day because her period had been miserable and she could barely move. Rowan had come over as soon as she’d texted him that she wasn’t feeling well.  He’d come fully prepared with a heating pad, chocolate, and ice cream. They spent the day on her couch watching these same stupid infomercials.  Laughing over the poor acting, the strange products.  Simply together.
Aelin swallowed stiffly. “Rowan,” she began, her voice sounding wounded to her own ears that she needed to pause.  Because how could any of this be made better?  How could she take back what she said?  How could they come back from this?
“Can you blame me for being scared?” she finally said.  The words weren’t the ones she really wanted to say but as soon as they were out, she couldn’t stop. “Scared of everything about us, about you?  I’m terrified by how I feel about you, how I’ve always felt about you.  Because I’ve never…I don’t…”
Aelin trailed off uselessly. There was no stopping the tears in her eyes, falling down her cheeks.  Between Sam and Chaol and a brief interlude with Dorian—the raw all-consuming emotions that she had with Rowan were utterly new and different. And she wasn’t lying when she said she was terrified of it.  She was so, so tired of lying.  Even if it led to more misery.
Aelin didn’t notice when he came towards her.  She barely registered it through her tears until he was right before her, his hands ghosting trails up her arms, slow and careful.  When he began wiping the tears from her cheeks, Aelin nearly yanked away from him.  Or fell into his arms.  She didn’t know which.  
Which was worse?  The weakness of him seeing her like this? Or the weakness of being a sobbing wreck?
“Fireheart,” Rowan whispered.  So close. He was close enough that she could smell him.  That glorious scent of pine and snow mixed with the fresh tang of sunlight.  One of his hands moved to cup her chin, tilting her face up just enough to look directly into her eyes.
Through her tears, Aelin could make out the concern on his face.  She could just see the twisted frown of his lips, the pained look of his eyes.  That look sent a pulse of her own pain through ever nerve in her body.  Aelin shivered and squeezed her eyes shut.
“I’ve never been more scared in my life,” Rowan said to her silence.  Her eyes flew open at the words and locked onto his gaze. “Everything about you, Fireheart, terrifies me.  I keep finding another reason to fall in love with you.  I keep finding another reason to want to be with you.  And I know enough about you past and the other men in your life to get why you’re scared.”
He paused, his eyes flicking away from hers for just a moment.
“But,” he continued, “I’m not them.  And I don’t want to leave you.  I don’t want to run when things get hard.  I’ve always loved you.  And I always will.”
The admission sent a rush of warmth through Aelin.  Damn him. Damn this man before her who knew everything about her and loved her still for it.  She could hear it in his words, the tremble of his voice.  How sincere he was.
His hands still cupped her face and Aelin reached up to grip his wrists with her hands, desperate to keep him there.  Releasing a shaky breath, Aelin, bowed her head and stepped closer until her forehead bumped into his chest.  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She looked up at him ready again to apologize and say something else about what an idiot she was.
Rowan however, kissed her.
His lips were soft, a whisper against hers.  And much like his words from when he first came in, the touch echoed the same sentiment. I’ll leave if you ask.
Screw that.
Aelin surged on her toes and kissed him with greater force.  She ran her hands up his arms, cupping his neck and pulling him closer, closer.  Because really, she was a fool to have let him go in the first place.
When Rowan pulled back, Aelin was more than ready to follow him, the heady need in her body not yet satiated.  The cocky smile growing on Rowan’s mouth though almost had her smacking him.
He sobered though. “I’m sorry, too.”  She furrowed her brow at him and he continued. “For throwing too much at you, for not talking sooner and making sure you were okay with what I was asking.”
Aelin curled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.  She pressed her forehead against his and breathed deeply.  The words were on the tip of tongue.  Words that had felt like acid on her tongue for weeks now.
“Rowan,” she said, enunciating ever syllable, “I love you.”
He smiled a heart-breaking smile as he looked down at her.  He paused a moment, his hands running down to the hem of the shirt she wore.
“Is this my shirt?”
Aelin gave him a blank look. “You’re still not getting it back.”
“That’s fine by me,” he said and kissed her again.
#
Gah. Hope this heals your wounded hearts, dears.  Not my fave, but oh well…
I’ve got another ask that is giving me a hard time, but I promise to the anon who sent it in, I am working on it.  I’m going to work on my Cursebreaker fic next and hopefully have something ready soon.
As always, my ask box and messages are always open for whatever, prompts or just to talk. Thanks y’all.
tags:
@tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire  @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @bamchickawowow @ladywitchling @ireallyshouldsleeprn @courtofjurdan @sassys-world @sleeping-and-books @superspiritfestival @chieflemming @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln
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waywardnerd67 · 3 years
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Sweet Slice
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Title: Sweet Slice Summary: (Y/N) is new to Lebanon escaping the big city life when she gets a job at a local bakery. Things get complicated when her past returns and her boss gets in the middle. Pairing: Dean x Reader Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Angst/Fluff Word Count: 2173 Squared Filled: Baker!Dean Bingo Card: @spnaubingo​ A/N: The sandwiches described are from the grocery store my mom works at. They can be found at http://www.straubs.com/category/sandwiches
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Staring out over the horizon, (Y/N) watched as the sun peeked over rising into the dark sky. Black and navy faded into beautiful pinks and reds as a sign of a new day. Breathing in the cool morning air, she threw up a few silent thank yous to whatever higher being was listening to her. Grateful for a new day, a new start and a new life for her. Carefully standing on the rooftop, she climbed back in through her single window and started mapping out her day.
(Y/N) had only lived in Lebanon, Kansas for three weeks. Finding a studio apartment above the only bakery in town that was owned by the handsome Dean Winchester. She gave him almost all her savings for the first month's rent and went in search of work. In a town of only two hundred-fifty people finding a job was harder than she expected. Until last week, when she approached Dean about the next month’s rent and offered her a job on the spot.
Now, as she pulled the hair out of her face and wrapped a red bandana over it (Y/N) headed downstairs for her first day at Sweet Slice. Approaching the kitchen entrance she could hear Led Zeppelin playing through the store speakers and pans clanging against one another.
“Morning boss.”
He looked over his shoulder a wide smile spreading across his face, “Good morning, let me get this pie in the oven and then I will give you your mission for the day.”
(Y/N) chuckled watching as he finished the pie he was working on. No one would ever believe from looking at Dean that he was a baker. His broad shoulders, muscular arms gave off the impression he was a tough guy. There were a few scars on his forearms she could see from the sleeves of his flannel being rolled up to his elbows. His large hands and thick fingers were the most deceiving as they gently and delicately handled creating the lattice pie crust on top.
“Ready?”
His husky voice brought her out of her daydream as she nodded following him to the other side of the kitchen. On the long table were various deli meats and cheeses along with a variety of breads then seemed to be freshly baked.
“I’ve always had this idea of not only offering specialty pies and baked goods but also to have a lunch hour with sandwiches on some of our breads. Today, I was you to just come up with some sandwiches for the menu and I’m going to taste test them for lunch.”
She smirked, “So basically you want me to make you a sammich?”
His laughter was infectious filling her body with a joy she hadn’t felt in a long time, “Yeah, I guess so. One of the perks for being the boss. If you need anything just holler at me.”
(Y/N) grabbed the pencil and paper on the table and started writing down some ideas she had. Sandwiches were something she knew all about being from New York. As a teenager she had worked at her local deli making sandwiches and giving the old mob men trouble as they flirted with her. The memory sent a chill down her spine. It was in that deli shop she had met Wyatt and her life changed forever.
Shaking her head, she went back to her list of sandwiches and began constructing them. A few of them, she had to have Dean bake up a few hoagie rolls because regular bread would not be right for them. By noon, she had assembled six different sandwiches for them to enjoy. She waited to garnish them until right before they sat down to eat. Dean had taken his flannel off wiping the sweat from his face from being near the oven.
His eyes widened as they glanced over the sandwiches plated in front of him, “These look awesome and I’m starving. Let’s dive in.”
The first sandwich was an Italian Sub that was on a fresh hoagie roll, spread with a mayo mustard blend and topped with salami, top round roast beef, baked and glazed ham, provel, dill pickle, onion, pepperoncinis and shredded lettuce. The noises coming from Dean as he devoured his half made her cheeks burn.
The next couple of sandwiches were simple ones with meat, cheese and simple lettuce, tomato, pickle toppings that could be offered cold or warm. The fifth sandwich was one her grandmother made for her every Sunday. Layers of baked and glazed ham, hard salami, mortadella, and provel topped with an olive Italian dressing blend on fresh baked focaccia bread.
“Now that sandwich sent my taste buds on an adventure. Whew!” He chuckled, finishing the last bite.
The final sandwich was her take on a grilled cheese sandwich. She had called it The Cure All making it whenever she had a particularly bad time of the month or a wicked hangover. On sourdough she placed two slices of cheddar, a layer of jalapenos, two slices of american, a layer of bacon, topped with caramelized onions.
Dean admired the sandwich for a moment before taking a large bite from it. His olive eyes rolled back as he closed them chewing slowly. She watched as he swallowed the bite and his full lips pursed together blowing out a gush of air.
“Wow, I think that may be the perfect sandwich and our signature sandwich to kick off a lunch special.”
Her cheeks were aching from smiling, “I guess I can add sandwich creator to my severely lacking resume.”
“If I have my way, you will never need a resume again and stay with me forever.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth a few things happened all at once. Their eyes snapped up connecting immediately. Her heart leaped within her chest with a bright, burning hope she has not felt in a long time. While Dean’s cheeks flushed crimson.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean… not that I wouldn’t want to be with… um. Crap.” He put his head in his hands, “All I’m saying is you’re amazing and wonderful for what I have gotten to know of you these last few weeks. I think we would work great with one another.”
There was something deep within urging for her to reach out to him and after five years of being with someone who only pretended to care for her and use her she had kept herself guarded. Looking into Dean’s eyes, she could see the kind of man he was. The kind of man to sacrifice himself for the ones he loves. The kind of man to go out of his way to care for someone. The kind of man that would protect those closest to him fiercely and without regard to his own well being.
(Y/N) reached across the table placing her hand on top of his, “There is nowhere else I’d rather be than right here with you.”
It was in that moment that everything changed for them. They became partners in every way they could in their lives. Sharing the business together, his home together, building a life together over the next year. Until her past caught up to her in the little bakery in Lebanon.
It was a normal Tuesday as Dean and (Y/N) prepared for their normal lunch hour. Their business doubled from them adding a sandwich and slice combo. Some of their normal morning customers had picked up a pie or two for that evening so when the bell rang signaling another customer, (Y/N) thought nothing of it walking to the front counter.
“There you are my sweetness. I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
She froze in her spot, the familiar raspy voice knocking the wind out of her. Looking up, standing in the middle of the empty bakery and locking the front door was the man of her nightmares. Standing nearly a foot taller than her, his jet black hair was slicked back and dark brown eyes narrowing in on her.
“H-How did you…” The words would not come out as fear struck her mind instinctively backing up towards the door leading into the kitchen.
His menacing smile spread wider, “You know I have my ways. You know when I want something I get it. No matter what.” He took two steps towards her as he spoke.
The same desperate fight or flight feeling kicked in pushing her feet towards the kitchen yelling, “DEAN!”
Before she made it two feet through the door a pair of thick, leather covered arms wrapped around her waist. She let out a piercing scream before Wyatt clamp his hand over her mouth. He walked them back through the door holding her tightly against his body where she could not kick or push herself away.
“You’ve always been weak and pathetic, but that’s how I like my women. You can’t fight me.” He snarled into her ear.
“But I can.”
She looked up wide eyed as Dean appeared in front of them stepping through the door. He was holding up a large iron skillet never once taking his eyes off of Wyatt.
“Put (Y/N) down now.” His jaw clenched as he spun the skillet in his hand.
Wyatt laughed pushing her into the front case. She cried out as shards of thick glass sliced and embedded themselves into her skin. She glanced up just in time to roll herself over the glass that had shattered as Wyatt’s large body flew back towards her. Crimson filled her vision as she looked down to the floor. Bile burned up her throat as the sickening cracking of breaking bones echoed throughout the room. Her vision darkened as the last thing she saw was the door crashing open.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Every inch of (Y/N)’s body throbbed. She could hardly lift her eyelids, her vision blurry from exhaustion and her glasses missing. Trying to speak, she coughed and a large hand engulfed hers. Instinctively, she flinched pulling it away. Squeezing her eyes shut terrified she would see Wyatt sitting beside her.
“(Y/N), you’re okay. You’re safe.”
Her eyes snapped open tears freely flowing down her face, “D-Dean…” she croaked.
“Shhh. Don’t try to speak until you’ve had some ice chips.” He stood grabbing a cup and feeding her some ice, “After Sam and I took care of Wyatt, we had to rush you to the hospital. You lost a lot of blood and one large piece of glass embedded itself into your back.”
Dean became quiet looking down at their hands clasped together, “W-What hap-pen?” she whispered, eating some more ice and the cold soothing her burning throat.
She was surprised to see his eyes shining with tears, “We almost lost you and…” he looked away from her wiping his eyes.
“And what, Dean?” Her stomach churned and knotted a thousand thoughts running through her mind.
“And it wrecked me. I didn’t want to imagine life without you and when I did it gutted me.”
(Y/N) reached up wiping the few wayward tears from his cheek, “I’m right here because of you. Thank you.”
Her hand slipped down to his chest gripping his shirt and pulling him towards her. Every move she made was agonizing but worth it as his lips pressed against hers.
“I will always be here for you.” He whispered as she nodded her forehead resting against his.
Lying back she asked, “What happened to Wyatt?”
A low growl escaped Dean’s lips, “He and his buddy are currently in a cell hopefully getting to know their new roommates intimately.”
She wanted to know everything, but exhaustion was consuming her. Her eyes closing as Dean sat beside her on the bed humming her favorite Zeppelin song and lulling her to sleep.
Over the next several months, between her physical recovery and mental anguish as she relive her life with Wyatt to detectives and lawyers. (Y/N) slowly started getting her life back to normal. Dean accompanied her to New York where Wyatt and his goons were all put on trial for what they had done to her. After the guilty verdict was read, (Y/N) felt a great weight lift from her shoulders finally feeling free to live her life in peace.
When they arrived back in Lebanon, they noticed the vacant building across from the bakery had been sold and a new sign was being lifted into the air to attach to the store front. As the tarp fell to the ground, they both stared up completely stunned at what they saw.
The sign had a cake with a halo above it that read Angel Cakes Bakery. A tall, dark hair man stood admiring the sign before glancing over to them. He gave a small wave walking back into the building while (Y/N) looked over to Dean.
His jaw set in a strong line before muttering, “Son of a bitch…”
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Genji Heavy Industries (Part 1) Preparations
The MC doesn’t play a major role here, because there’s not much role to play. But she has a lot to say and lots of THOUGHTS.
The book is funny and I’ve kept the humor of the original novel. I also like that the MC here has a genuine sense of humor that makes her likeable and relatable to the rest of the boys.
ENJOY
There are several luxurious private rooms on the third floor of the Takamagahara for private party guests, and the spending amount is, of course, much higher than the card seats on the first floor. A guest can't go to the third floor without throwing a few million yen a night. 
The music inside the room where Chu Zihang and Caesar were hosting was deafening. You knock loudly to be heard.
"Little Sister, is that you? Don't come in!" Lu Mingfei yelled from inside. He sounds breathless, panting. In fact, when you press your ear to the door, all you hear is his heavy breathing and grunting from physical exertion. Your heart beats faster and your cheeks flush as your imagination runs wild with what must be happening. You back away from the door. You've been up to your ears in man-meat for hours so it wasn't a stretch to conjure images of Chu Zihang and Lu Mingfei embracing passionately. Poor Nono. Surely Caesar wouldn't be unfaithful to her, right? You bring your fist to your lips and your heart squeezes in sympathy. 
The door swings open and Caesar appears. He's stripped down to his underwear. Your eyes snap to the gentle curve of Caesar’s crotch, which, in your alcohol-addled mind, seemed to bulge out to enormous proportions!
 He grabs your arm and drags you inside, slamming the door behind you.
Women were lying side by side on the floor, their dresses in disarray. Lu Mingfei and Chu Zihang are breaking a sweat to drag all the bodies around. 
“What do you need me to do?” You stammer and glance away. Were you going to end up on the floor too?
“Just wait until we’re finished. How was your time downstairs? You seem a little tipsy. How much did you drink?” Caesar picked up a woman and settled her gently back on the couch.
“I’m not sure. I think someone kept refilling my cup.” You twine your fingers. You can't turn around and look at him in his skivvies. Nono would probably laugh at you and the rest of the girls in the Student Union might resort to mob violence!
Lu Mingfei hissed. “What? That’s awful! Someone should do something about that! Those brutes didn’t do anything to you, did they?”
You shake your head. The room tilts and you try to hide it and the fact that youre suddenly breathless. “No, nothing like that. They were just… um… Are those women drugged?” You change the subject as the memories of the physical proximity of Diamond's and Chance's lips to yours, Calypso’s unopened rose and Armani’s lustful glare spring back to mind and combine with Caesar's sudden full frontal to create a sexual kaleidoscope you couldn’t handle.
"Strong sleeping pills plus strong alcohol. They have to sleep at least until tomorrow morning." Caesar shook a small pill bottle.
“Isn’t that a little dangerous? Sounds like a great way to make them sleep forever!” You recalled heroin and vodka was strictly forbidden because combined someone could easily commit suicide.
“I made sure it was alright.” Chu Zihang said, straightening a girl’s skirt. "We have about eight hours between now and tomorrow morning, enough time to get to and from Genji Heavy Industries. We ordered enough champagne before we came in so that no waiter would come in to check on us during that time. And these women were so drunk before they arrived, they won't remember what happened tonight." 
 He straightened his back and moved to the next. “By the way, did you give out any Star-flower tickets? I would have watched but, as you can see, I had to work.”
“No… no tickets.”
“Little Sister’s purity is as strong as Fort Knox! I’m so happy!” Lu Mingfei sighed with relief. “Don't worry, we’ll be out of here before anything happens!”
“That’s a good strategy in any case. You don’t want to show your favor to anyone in the first episode…” Chu Zihang gave a sage nod and moved to the next lady.
Lu Mingfei bristled. “What kind of lewd advice are you giving, Senior Brother?”
“So what’s the plan for the Genji Building?” You ask. You calm down and feel tired and tense, but seeing them working so hard despite having one of the busiest nights at Takamagahara was inspiring. The couches looked soft and inviting but you wouldn’t look weak in front of them so you continue to stand and try to look energetic.
"Uncover the skeletons in Hydra’s closet. And while we’re there, blow shit up." Caesar lit a cigar, the firelight illuminating the colored makeup on his face. 
"There are 15 pounds of C4 explosives in the equipment box, is that enough?" Chu Zihang took out a packet of Play-Doh-like stuff from the box. 
You recognize the packets. They’re dark green and can be arbitrarily pinched into any shape. They are easy to carry and easy to use. As the world's worst terrorists, according to Hydra, C4 plastic explosives would fit your needs. 
"Hey, hey, hey, hey! What are you doing with explosives out? We are turning into the kind of people on the wanted list step by step!" Lu Mingfei exclaimed. 
"We are wanted by the police department for smuggling nuclear fuel, terrorist attacks and raping young girls. As long as we don't do that last thing, we're not on the wanted list yet." Caesar fastened the leather sheath of the Dictator on the outside of his thigh, the Desert Eagle in the holsters on both ribs, and the eight magazines filled with Frigga bullets on the side of his waist, "It won’t be that bad. Chu and I are just going to blow up Kaguya's storage core. Kaguya is the first line of defense for the Hydra Clan. We blow it up and Hydra will go blind. Norma can take advantage of the opportunity to regain control of the network within Japan." 
“Caesar?” You ask.
“Yes, hun?”
“Am I also wanted for raping girls?” You give a dry smile.
He shoots you a genuine grin and snorts.
"Do not rush to change clothes, we have to leave some evidence." Chu Zihang said. 
"Almost forgot." Caesar took off his weapons and re-dressed in the slim purple suit, "Good thing I didn't take off my makeup." 
Chu Zihang fished out a cell phone from a guest's bag and handed it to you. “Here, take our picture.”
“Got it.” You say.
Caesar sat down on the sofa, dragged a woman to his side and pressed her to his body. He stuffed a microphone in her hand, and took a microphone himself, as if he was singing. 
Then Chu Zihang sat in the middle of the guests wearing a conical hat singing birthday songs, and Lu Mingfei pretended to accompany guests drinking and playing craps. Chu Zihang and Caesar pantomimed topless arm wrestling.
For each photo, Chu Zihang and Caesar adjust the phone time, so that the guests will wake up and, after checking their phones, they’ll think they spent an unforgettable night with the beautiful boys! But, unfortunately, they can't remember any details because they drank too much and can only imagine. Looking at the phones, you’re filled with a sad sort of regret that the boys actually didn’t have fun like this.
Lu Mingfei is full of panic, "If these photos leak out our reputation is finished! But we didn't do anything at all!" 
"MC, help me check the fuses on this C4.”
You scurry over without hesitation. Caesar leans in close to you. “You know about this too, huh? First shooting, now explosives…?” He says with a grin.
“I can hotwire a car… or I used to be able to. Not sure if I can do it with the newer models. I can’t fly a plane though.” You look up at him. “I’ll be the cutest little terrorist right?”
“Are you hearing anything I’m saying?!” Mingfei whines. 
“Are you sad because you didn’t do anything, but you now have a bad reputation?" Caesar looks bored. "Then do you want me and Chu Zihang to go out and wait for you for a while, so you can earn your bad rep?" 
"Bullshit! From now on I'm going to fight alongside you guys every step of the way! You guys aren’t going to leave me to take the blame alone!"
Caesar hands you a bundle of clothing. “Here. Put these on and get ready to go.” 
You take them and quickly duck behind the couches, pulling your dress over your head and slipping out of your heels. You unfold a skintight black bodysuit that fits you near perfectly and a trench coat with the splendid Ukiyo-E on the lining, made to look like they are from the Japanese Executive Department.
“Here. Don’t use them all at once.” Caesar draped a belt with a pistol holster and pouches of ammunition over the couch. Your heart warms at the side of this deadly weaponry more than the rose of Calypso. You were finally being trusted with a gun. 
When you step back around, you're fully equipped. Your tired haze is gone and your mind is only on the mission again.
Chu Zihang put his sword on his back, slipped into a black trench coat and screwed a black baseball cap on his head. Caesar is also in a black trench coat and was covering his face in dark makeup to conceal his fair skin.
"Isn’t it a little too risky? We can barely speak Japanese. How are we going to impersonate the Executive Board? People just have to ask us something complicated and we'll be exposed!" Lu Mingfei said. 
“I know it’s hard but you could try keeping your mouth shut…” You grumble, screwing on the belt. Just putting on these dangerous weapons brought you away from the Takamagahara summer of love to the cold winter of Siberia.
"MC, be nice…” Caesar chided. 
“Of course we can't break in. Genji Heavy Industries is a heavily fortified building, as tight as the Japanese Self Defense Force headquarters. Caesar and I spent a few days researching. It is a general office building from the first floor to the twentieth floor, and above the twentieth floor is the office area used by the Hydra. Access is by access card, and there are security guards patrolling. Those security guards are all armed. Even wearing the clothes of the Executive Board, an unfamiliar face may be questioned. Not to mention, that without the help of Norma, I cannot make access cards." Chu Zihang spread out a hand-drawn map, "The only possibility is to sneak in from the sewers and enter the so-called 'inner district'. There is no access control system in the inner district." 
You remembered that they had taken the elevator down below ground when you visited the Genji Heavy Industries and you saw the huge sewer system in Tokyo. The submarine dock of the Iwarui Institute was located in a giant twelve-meter diameter pipe. 
“Shouldn't the inner district have a tighter security network than outside?" Lu Mingfei looked completely unsure. 
You’re not confident either. Looking at the map, with only one way in and one way out, you get the sense that the moment something goes wrong, you’re going to be trapped inside with the enemy. The pipe was deep and led to the ocean. Given the volcanic activity down there, if you had an opportunity to use your soul skill you might be able to open an alternate tunnel like a lava tube to escape or even block this pipe with lava on the way out. The problem is your Soul Skill is not instantaneous.
"No one knows what the security system in the inner zone is, but at least we can avoid the people coming and going by going through the inner zone passage." The map Chu Zihang drew by hand was a map of the sewer system in Shinjuku district. His finger moved along the spider web of sewer pipes, "There's a sewer right below Takamagahara. We'll follow it east, bypass under the Shinjuku subway station, and shortly after entering the main channel, we'll see Genji Heavy Industries. Total length is two kilometers." 
"It’s like we’re just going to wing it right? But come on, This isn’t some My Little Pony Ride. Genji Heavy Industries is like a rushing river, we'll be up a creek if we make one misstep." 
"How can we know if we don't try? If we get caught, we’ll kill our way out." Caesar said gently.
"Hey! Of course you two Robocops can easily kill out! Have you considered that there are still civilized and weak students in the team?”
“Mingfei,” You say softly. He looks over at you, genuinely frightened. "You think I'm weak? Who has the biggest body count for this mission?"
“Little Sister, how can you smile in such a situation. Have you lost your mind? You of all people should be on my side…”
“Don’t you remember what I did in the streets of Chizuru?”
Mingfei frowned, recalling how you killed over and over. “But it’s not right for you to be doing things like that.” 
Chu Zihang confirms your assumption. “Her Soul Skill is the first one that I’ve witnessed that is truly S-Grade.” Chu Zihang rolled up the map. “Her control of it is impressive. Her ability to misshape the earth will help us find a way out by creating a new tunnel underground if necessary, and we have scouted several promising escape routes. Not only that, Royal Fire could take down the Internet Cafe’s wooden structure, but it wouldn’t be able to shift the Genji Heavy Industries building. But her ability is likely to do it. Right, MC?”
You nod gravely.
“If it comes to that, we can threaten the entire building. They were extra proud of that building and probably wouldn't want to lose it in a tragic earthquake..” Caesar smirks.
“I still don’t like it.” 
"Then you'd better stay and take care of the girls. Watching over a dozen unclothed and sleeping women alone in a room late at night is a job for a frail scholar, right?" Caesar shrugged.
"Am I such an unkind and unrighteous person? Can I watch you two go into the dragon's den and wait here by myself? Don't answer that. Just give me a gun!" Lu Mingfei was once again bold and firm, though he gave an owlish glance at the women.
"Very well! We in the Student Council never back down from a fight!" Caesar drew out a heavy Beretta 92FS and threw it to Lu Mingfei, "I”ve been waiting to give this to you. Thirteen-round magazine, the first nine rounds are Frigga anesthesia ammunition. The back four rounds are specially designed to deal with dragons. Mercury core, blunt armor-piercing ammunition. Don't use that kind of bullets against humans or hybrids. Although mercury is not that deadly to humans, it’s troublesome after contamination, and the armor-breaking warheads will leave penetrating wounds on ordinary bodies.”
"Will there be any dragons in the Genji Heavy Industry?" Lu Mingfei thrust his gun into his back waist, "I say just load them all up with Frigga tranquilizer rounds." 
“MC was the last witness to Lenin's last voyage when a dragon embryo was sunk in a Japanese trench. They tried to kill her once before to hide what happened that day. The Japanese Hydra  leader speaks with the same Russian Accent as the MC and then turns on the Academy as soon as he thinks we’re dead at the bottom of the sea? And then tries their hardest to capture us in Chizuru? And now tries to pin us down in Japan…”
Caesar looks down at you. “MC… you were invited on this mission for a reason. I intend to find out why. I think they’re after you… more than they are after us.”
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thatsgay-writes · 3 years
Text
Jinora x Reader
Summary: The bison episode with a twist.
Warnings: Light cursing?
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You had been around the air bending family since you could walk, much to your mothers dismay. Your mother was Lin Beifong and you were the product of a very drunk one night stand that made her realize that men weren't that great. She loved you either way and was pretty strict on you, remembering how loose her mother had been with her and Su. She also made sure to give you attention when she could, sometimes it was hard with being the Chief of Police. Luckily you understood how important her job is and would spend days on Avatar Island when Lin got too busy with work. You also liked hanging out on Avatar Island for two other reasons. One being that no one made fun of you for being the child of Lin Beifong and grandchild of Toph Beifong, two powerful benders, and being a non bender. Also Jinora lived on Avatar Island. You and Jinora had grown up together and at some point in time your platonic feelings for her turned into something more. Of course you never told her, your mom was Lin Beifong, Tenzin's ex-girlfriend. And if that wasn't bad enough you didn't know if she even liked you back or if you deserved her, being a non bender and all. Even though you were a non bender your mom made sure you could fight and you spent time practicing air bending moves with Jinora, Ikki, and Meelo, you even are able to go through the swinging walls with ease now.
When harmonic convergence happened, you went with the Avatar team to the South Pole. You know you couldn't do anything to help really, but you wanted to be there when Jinora woke up. And you were, after pulling her grandma into a tight , she noticed you over Katara's shoulder and after the hug threw herself into your arms. You buried your head into her shoulder and squeezed her super tight. You almost told her your feelings then and there, after realizing you could have lost her or the world could have ended today. But you refrained from doing so because of the big clean up everyone had to deal with. But you made sure to flirt more with her or compliment her, just trying to get her to blush. You even flirted with her in front of Tenzin, much to his dismay. One day, after Bumi had showed everyone he could air bend, you wished you could do the same too. So you found a quiet patch of grass, away from prying eyes and meditated, which was something you enjoyed doing even if you weren't an air bender. While meditating, your thoughts kept going back to Jinora who was showing Bumi air bending moves with Tenzin, Ikki, and Meelo. When suddenly you felt something in you shift and when you opened your eyes you were in the middle of the training area, Tenzin, Bumi, Jinora, Ikki, and Meelo all staring at you in shock. "How did I get here?" you asked, looking around for an answer. When you looked down you noticed that you were blue and floating above the ground. "Ahhh what happened!? Am I a ghost!?" "No your doing spiritual projection! Like I can do, that's amazing." Jinora said in awe, making you blush. "How do I stop? Does this mean I can air bend?"
Turns out you could bend, which led you to where you are now, in the Northern air temple. After releasing all those air benders from the Queen of Ba Sing Se, you didn't like her. You also didn't like this new kid Kai and it's not because of his past or anything like that. It was the fact that Jinora started practically ignoring you and spent all her time hanging and blushing around Kai. What you hadn't known was that Kai was encouraging her to confess her feelings to you, all those blushes you witnessed were over you. After watching Jinora blow up on Tenzin, you waited 10 minutes before going after her, wanting her to calm down some before hand. When you got to her, you saw her and Kai standing on the railing about to fly away. You heart at the fact that Jinora was just gonna leave without you. You turn to leave but accidentally kick a rock making noise. When you look back you see Jinora blushing and Kai sporting a big grin, making you smile back nervously. "Hey y/n, we were gonna go see some baby bison if you want to come with us." Kai offered, taking a quick peek at Jinora with a smirk. "Sure." you say awkwardly, not really wanting to go but you needed to talk to Jinora at some point.
As you flew, you caught up to Jinora before putting your back towards the ground and fly under Jinora. "Did I do something wrong?" Jinora looked down startled to see you right under her, causing her to blush. "No." she said simply with a small smile before flying down towards where the baby sky bison were the day before. "Where are all the bison?" Kai asks and as soon as he does Jinora gets caught in a net. "Jinora!" you yell before turning where to see the net came from. You fought with the bison hunters, while Kai tried to free Jinora from the nets he got caught too. "Kai!" you yelled turning to him as you watch him hit the ground next to Jinora, who's eyes widen. "Look o--" Jinora said before you felt your body get launched into the air and slammed to the ground. Before you pass out, you make eye contact with Jinora, who has fear written in her eyes.
You groan, as you wake up, feeling yourself leaning against something warm. You blink your eyes a couple times to try and clear your eyes. When your eyes finally clear up, you look up to see what you had been leaning against Jinora, which causes you to blush. Feeling your movement Jinora pauses her conversation with Kai to turn and look at you. When she sees you already looking at her she gives a small smile and blushes. "I'm so glad your awake." She says as she wraps her arms around you lightly in a hug. After you hug, you try and sit up only to groan in pain. "What happened?" Jinora bit her lip in worry, "You got practically body slammed into the air and then ground. You need to be careful, you probably broke something." You nod your head in understanding, just now finally noticing the small room your in and the bars. "What the hell? Why are we in a cage?" "It's the bison hunters, they are taking bison to the Earth Queen." Kai says from another side of a wall with anger in his voice. "Does anyone know we're missing yet?" "I sent a spirit to tell Bum-Ju, who hopefully got Uncle Bumi's attention." You nod your head in understanding and you all sit in silence for a minute, before you hear noise from Kai's cell. Next thing you see is Kai's face smiling in front of your cage. Before he can start unlocking your cage Jinora interrupts him, "Get the bison first." You nod your head in agreement before watching Kai get launched away from the cages.
"Crap." You say as you watch Kai get into a fighting stance. You sit up from leaning against Jinora, wrapping an arm around your ribs in pain, to get a better look at what was happening. Jinora sits up as well, still keeping an eye on you. You get a smile on your face when you see all the new air benders come rushing in to aide Kai. While they're fighting, Kai manages to free 1 of 2 other bison before getting to your and Jinora's cage. Before he can even start unlocking it, he gets earth bended away from the truck before the truck takes off. From the break neck speed the truck goes, you and Jinora slam back against the wall, both of you making sounds of pain from the force of the impact. After a few minutes of driving, you peek out and look towards the front of the truck from in between the bars. Right as you did, you saw a full grown bison land in front of the car and slam it's tail against the ground. Before you could think about what you were doing, you turned around fast and pulled Jinora into your chest. You shut your eyes waiting for impact, which means you didn't see Jinora blush at your actions.
When the wave of air hit it caused the truck to flip. After the first flip you tighten your hold on Jinora and feel your back hit the bars over and over again. When it finally stops, you feel like you can breath again. You loosen your hold on Jinora, wanting to make sure she's okay before passing out from pain. When you look down and notice that Jinora had a tight grip on your shirt and her eyes were squeezed shut. "Jinora." You whisper, fighting the black dots that clouded your vision. Jinora loosens her hold on your shirt and looks up, her eyes widen. "Oh my spirits! You're bleeding!" Jinora says, you just smile before saying, "I'm gonna pass out now."
When you awake your on a bed in the air temple. When you sit up you groan in pain and notice the bandage around your stomach and one on your temple. You sit up slowly and grab your glider to use as a cane. (Like how Aang does when he wakes up after getting struck by lightning.) You start heading outside to find anyone but notice that it's night time and head to Jinora's room instead. You knock on her door, hoping she's not asleep, and turn to leave when she doesn't open the door. Right as you turn around, however, the door opens and Jinora pops her head out. When she meets your eyes, hers widen and she opens the door all the way. She pulls you into the room, mindful of your injuries, and makes you sit down on the bed. "Why are you out of bed?" Jinora questioned, arms crossed in front of her chest. You just shrug, "I woke up by myself and wanted to see where everyone else was. "Did all the baby bison get free? You didn't get injured too did you?" You respond, asking your own questions. Jinora just shakes her head in amusement by the fact that you were more worried about everyone else, when you were the one most hurt. "Yes, we got all the baby bison and no one was hurt. Which reminds me... What were you doing!? I know you didn't want to see me hurt but you were already injured! I could have handled being thrown around, you body couldn't!" You had never seen Jinora mad before, but you also didn't see what she was like when you passed out in the truck. Jinora couldn't get the sight of your bloody head out of her memory. "Jinora!" you say as you pull her into you when she suddenly starts crying, the position slightly awkward because you still sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Look I'm sorry I worried you. I know you can handle yourself, I just don't like seeing you hurt when I could have done something about it." Jinora sniffles some, keeping her face pressed into your neck. "Why?" That question was simple, so why did it make your heart beat so hard. You knew why, you were gonna tell the truth. No half-assed because you care about her, nope, you were gonna be completely honest. "Well I don't know how to say this, or how you'll react but just no that you'll always be my friend." Your sentence caused Jinora to sit up, she had never seen you so nervous before. Making eye contact with her, you let out a deep breath. "Jinora... I like you more than a friend. And it's okay if you don't feel the same, I've noticed how close you've gotten to Kai over the last couple of weeks." Jinora was shocked by your confession. You liked her too? Kai would never stop teasing her for how he was right and that your feelings for each other were shared. You on the other hand took Jinora's shock in a bad way. "I should probably see myself out." You said as you untangled from her and grabbed your glider. As soon as you stood up, however, you got tugged back by Jinora. Before you could ask anything, you were pulled into a kiss. Your eyes widened in shock before returning the kiss. Holy spirits, you thought, I can't believe this is happening! As you both pull away from the kiss. "If it's not clear by now I feel the same way y/n." You just nodded dumbly in understanding, still in shock over the kiss. Before you could say anything Jinora yawns, "We can talk more in the morning but we should probably go to bed." You just nodded your head again before grabbing your glider to leave. "Where are you going?" Jinora asked as you moved towards the door. "You said go to bed..." You replied as you mumbled out a few other excuses to try and lessen the blush on your face. Jinora just chuckled at how adorable yo looked rambling.
"Come on just stay in here with me."
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Text
Snape’s Royal Blunder
Harry Potter Marauders Era 
Summary: Snape runs his mouth and says the wrong thing. He quickly lives to regret his decision.
Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader 
Rating: T- fluff at the end
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“I think I am really going to like Transfiguration this year.”
Remus said looking cheerfully at the large book in front of him. He ignored the scowls coming from Sirius and James.
“Speak for yourself, nerd.”
Sirius said, smirking at the expression of annoyance coming from his friend.
“If it wasn’t for this nerd, you would have been in a lot of trouble by now. I don’t care how smart you are.”
Sirius put a hand over his head and faked a gag.
“So mean!”
Before Remus could make a comment you came storming into the common room with a red face full of tears.
“Y/n?”
James was the first to get up as you stormed past your friends without a word. Sirius put his book down and went to join James.
“That isn’t something that you see every day.”
James shook his head and patted Sirius on the back.
“Go be a good boyfriend and figure out what the problem is.”
Sirius shook his head and went back to his place on the couch.
“First thing about Y/n, she doesn’t like to be bothered while she's in the middle of a rage. When she wants me to find out, she’ll come to me.”
A few moments later, Lily came out of the girl's dormitory looking disturbed.
“Guys, not trying to start trouble but Snape said something really cruel to Y/n.”
James threw his book down, not caring where it went. The moment that Snape came into the equation as hopes of you just having a bad day went out the window. Peter and Remus also put down their books and looked ready to “take care of business.”
“What did he say?”
James and Sirius snapped at the same time. Lily winced. She didn’t really want to repeat the words that you told her but she knew that she would have to.
“Don’t make me say it.”
Sirius took off his robe and started rolling up his shirt sleeves.
“Lils, you can tell us or I can go down to the Slytherin common room and rub Snape’s face into the carpet until he had a carpet burn for the next month.”
Lily sighed.
“I told her that I wouldn’t say anything.”
Sirius smirked.
“You can say that I forced it out of you. So...what did the wimp say?”
Lily looked down at her feet before meeting her friend’s lion-like gaze.
“He called her your cock sucking whore and that the two of you would never amount to anything since you're a blood traitor.”
Sirius automatically turned and walked out of the common room to be joined seconds later by James, Remus, and Peter. He didn’t care if Snape called him a blood traitor. It wasn’t like his mother didn’t call him that a good 95% of the time but the second he called you a whore...Snape signed his own death warrant.
“I’ll hold him down and you can knock him senseless. Remus can play lookout and Peter can stand there and sing somebody’s gonna get it.”
James said, looking a little too cheerful for his own good. Snape had gone too far this time. When he messed with the group pet, he opened Pandora’s box.
“Snape is in the library.”
Peter said as he closed the map. Sirius smiled.
“Lots of heavy books...even better.”
Sirius slammed through the library doors and looked around manically until he saw the greasy slimeball that he was so eager to locate. Snape sat at a table with Regulus and some unknown Slytherin. Sirius didn’t feel too bad that his brother could be caught in the line of fire.
He knew the risk when he made friends with this creep.
Sirius thought as he walked over to the table. Snape looked up and immediately turned about two shades paler.
“Sirius, before you lose what control you have on that temper of yours…”
“Shut up!”
Sirius snapped. Regulus held a hand up.
“Sirius…”
Regulus immediately shut up when his brother's eyes locked on him.
“You shut up too!”
James had come out of nowhere and grabbed Snape as Sirius picked up a huge book on Herbology. He looked at it a moment with a pleased smile before handing it to Peter. Had the situation not been so serious, Snape would have made a comment about how Peter was about to cream his pants because he got a job to do (even if it was just holding a book).
Sirius turned his attention back to Remus and smiled coldly.
“Keep an eye out.”
(Half an hour later)
You sat in your room trying to study. After a while, you had finally calmed down over Snape’s comment. Why it bothered you so badly, you weren't sure. Maybe it was the fact that you thought Severus was your friend. He had been showing his true colors a lot lately and now he finally showed them to you.
You had gone to the common room to find your friends. They of all people would know how to cheer you up and if that didn’t work then you could drag Sirius to some hidden corner for alone time. Spending time with his lips locked on yours didn’t sound half bad either.
When you walked into the common room, they had all vanished. You frowned upon seeing all of their stuff still spread out just no Sirus, James, Remus, or Peter.
“Oh well. I’ll just go back to bed.”
You muttered, defeated and went back to the comfort of your bed.
A few moments later, Dorcas came sliding into the room clearly excited.
“Y/n! Sirius beat the shit out of Snape.”
You sat blinking a few times.
“What?”
Dorcas nodded.
“I saw it! It was epic! I have never seen Snape hit the ground so hard.”
Before you could respond, there was a knock at the door and Sirius slowly stepped in. Dorcas immediately grinned.
“There you are! That was epic what you did!”
Sirius was busy looking at your still red face. He didn’t feel the least bit sorry for what he had just done either. Seeing you like this made the boyfriend in him seethe all over again. Sirius had partially ignored Dorcas for a moment.
“Yeah, skills. Can you give us some time alone?”
Dorcas nodded and walked out of the room with a happy smile on her face.
Once she was gone, you met Sirius'’ unhappy face.
“So you beat the crap out of him?”
Sirius nodded. He knew that you probably were not going to be happy with him. You were always begging him not to fight Snape. It wasn’t worth the time and effort...or the detention.
“I went down to scare him originally…”
Sirius said, softly as he walked over to join you on the bed. He flipped his long hair over his shoulder in order to watch your face.
“What did he say?”
You asked. Sirius shrugged.
“His exact words were..Ouch! Ouch! Sirius that’s my head ouch!”
You groaned the moment you looked down at Sirius’ bloody and bruised knuckles. Sirius winched when you gently stroked your hand over his.
“We need to put some ice on this.”
Sirius rolled his eyes.
“No need to fuss over me, love.”
You blinked.
“You just rearranged Severus Snape’s face because of what he called me.”
Sirius leaned back, looking extremely proud of himself.
“The creep deserved it. Play stupid games...win stupid prizes. It was even more amusing watching my brother about shit his pants because he thought that I was going to go after him next. I think ole Severus isn’t going to open his trap to you for a long time. That whole episode was called me being a good boyfriend. James, Remus, and Peter were working on being good friends.”
Sirius was pleased when you finally smiled. That alone told him that any wrongdoing (even though he knew that he was right) was forgiven.
You slowly crawled onto his lap and nuzzled your nose against his.
“Don’t think that I’m not flattered by what you did.”
You pressed soft kisses to Sirius’ cheeks before moving back to his mouth. He smiled against your mouth before wiggling those perfect eyebrows at you.
“I don’t think that you would be wanting to snog me if you were angry. I could be wrong though. You are the first girl that I have been with that likes angry kissing...not that I am complaining of course.”
“Just shut up and kiss me.”
_______
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90 notes · View notes
jawritter · 4 years
Text
Mine...
Request: Could you do a one shot where the reader lives with Sam and dean they are best friends. The reader and dean have a secret relationship and dean gets jealous of the reader and Sam hanging out all day. So Dean shows the reader who she belongs too in the bedroom.
Warnings: SMMUUTTTT!!! LOL, unprotected sex, hair pulling, dom!dean, hint of breading kink, biting, daddy!kink, hint of praise kink, rough sex, jealous!dean (yep he has a warning lol.) language. a little bit of edging, orgasm denial. I think that’s about it. 
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (friends) Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 2226
A/N: As always all mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Please don’t copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one! Trying to knock down some of these requests because they kind of piled up on me lol.
Want more? Check out my Masterlist!
***MASTERLIST***
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"Looks like we're going to get another 8 to 10 inches by nightfall," Sam announces as he flops down at the table in the kitchen of the bunker you have been calling home for the last two years. "So it looks like we're going to be stuck here a little longer, all the roads are closed going in and out of town, and the DOTD says just about everything is not passable."
"Great! More time indoors! Just what I wanted to hear! Did I mention how much I HATE winter?" you complained as you sit down a cup of coffee in front of Sam, and took a seat across from him with your own. 
Dean was leaning up against the island in the middle of the kitchen. Looking at the two of you silently. He'd about reach the end of his rope with sitting inside and doing nothing. Dean was used to hunting, and if this snow blast didn't clear out of here soon, and he wasn't able to blow off some steam by chopping the head off of some freak he was going to eat the business end of his favorite pistol. 
"Well we could use the time to go through some of those old documents in the file room, or we can lay up all day long and watch crap TV, up to you." Sam suggested, and while you normally didn't' mind research, today you just weren't into it.
"I vote for crap TV," you said. 
You could almost feel Dean's eyes boring into the back of your head. 
"What's up Dean?" Sam asked his brother, noticing his change in demeanor, and the murderous look he was giving the two of you currently.
"Nothing. I'm just going to go work on Baby," he mumbled, slamming his coffee cup down into the sink and stalking out of the kitchen.
"What's wrong with him?" Sam asked, and you just shrugged it off. 
"No Idea. Cabin fever maybe?" you suggest, knowing damn well that wasn't the problem.
See you and Sam were best friends and had been since the day you'd meet the Winchester brothers. You just clicked. You both loved research and were a bit nerdy if you were being honest. 
Dean on the other hand, well, you and Dean were something else altogether. 
For the last few months, you and Dean had been secretly in a relationship that started after you fell in bed with each other on a particularly bad hunt where you lost a child that drowned in a bathtub before Dean or yourself could stop that particular nasty poltergeist. 
You'd both walked away a little shook up from that hunt, and when you got back to the motel room and Sammy went out to get food Dean had confessed his feelings for you, which ended up with the two of you in the bed, then the shower, then in the backseat of Baby later that night while Sammy was in the room sound asleep. 
Dean always was a little bit of a jealous type, and your decision to keep this a secret for a little while so that you didn't have a giant Chuck sized target on your back until this war with him was all sorted out had been anything but easy for Dean.
Lately, he seemed to be getting more and more uneasy about the platonic friendship with Sam, as much as he'd been trying not to show it. Still, you weren't going to blow your friend off because your boyfriend was in a mood. 
So for the rest of the day, Sam and yourself watched crap TV and ate junk food. Dean stayed hidden in the garage with his car, he didn't come in for lunch and when he came in for dinner all he did was glare at you.
After dinner, you were standing at the sink washing dishes when Sam came up, gave you a hug, and told you he was turning in for the night. You told him good night and thought you were alone. 
Until you felt Dean press himself into you from behind and grab your hair with his free hand, while the other wrapped around your middle and held you to him as tight as he could. 
As soon as you felt him against you it's like something shot straight to your core, and you wanted nothing more than to have him take you right there over the island in the kitchen, but that would be too risky.
"You, me, bedroom, 15 minutes," he husked in your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck, not hard enough to hurt you, but hard enough to send a wave of pleasure shooting through your body.
You had to bite down on your lips to stop the moan from escaping you that almost slipped past your defenses. 
"Yes sir," you mumbled, and he released you, stalking off towards the shower to clean up from the day. 
Quickly as you could with anticipation pumping through you like electricity, you hurriedly finished the dishes and all but ran to Dean's room. Slipping into the room and shutting the door quietly behind you.
You didn't even know he was in there in the dark until he slammed his body into yours, pressing your face first against the door, one hand wrapping back up in your hair, and the other slipping inside the waistband of your leggings and underwear, running his fingers lightly over your slick folds, but avoiding where you wanted him the most. 
His mouth attacking your neck and the sensitive skin behind your ear, leaving deep purple bruises and bite marks as he went. You knew you'd never be able to cover those up, but also didn't care. 
"Dean," you whined, pressing your ass into his already fully erected cock, taking note that he was completely naked. 
You were answered with a deep growl in the back of his throat and a tightening grip on your hair as he spun you around to face him, his eyes almost glowing, even in the almost completely dark room.
"You think you can just lay around on the couch with my little brother all day watching TV like you two are a thing. You're mine, you belong to me, and by the end of the night you're going to know it." 
God if you weren't wet before you were now. 
Before you could even open your mouth and respond to him Dean's lips found yours in a bruising kiss that was all tongue and teeth. His hands make quick work of stripping your pants and underwear from your body, before breaking the kiss just long enough to rip your shirt off your body. 
"No braY/N?" he all but growled, his teeth grazing against your neck as he picked you up by your thighs and started to rut his leaking erection through your wet folds. Your body jerking at the contact of his spongy tip with your swollen clit. 
"Daddy please!"
"Shhh. Daddy has rules, and you've been a very bad girl, haven't you? Laid all up on the couch with my little brother. I don't fucking think so, baby girl. It's time Sammy learns just which one of us you belong to." 
Carrying you over to the bed he drops you onto the memory foam mattress, his eyes roaming your body like a prize. 
"Hands and knees. Now," he commanded you, and you scampered onto your hands and knees for him as he positioned himself behind you on the bed, The familiar clink of a belt buckle sending had your core already clenching around nothing, and he hadn't even touched you yet.
One of his big hands came down on the supple rounds of your ass, massaging the skin there and examining his blank template of flesh that was presented before him.
"Safeword," he commanded.
"Impala."
No sooner had the word escaped your lips when the thick leather of the belt that had just been on Dean's body a little while ago came down hard on your ass, causing a sound that was a squeak, and a moan falls from your lips.
"Count!" he yelled at you, his deep voice sending shivers down your body.
"One"
"Two" 
"Three" 
"Four"
"Five"
Each slap of the belt got harder and harder. He was pushing your limits and you knew it. Your moans between counting growing louder and louder and you were sure that if Sam couldn't hear the two of you he must be dead. Slick was literally sliding down your thigh as Dean continued to punish your ass.
"Nine" 
"Ten"
Finally, he seemed to be satisfied that your as was a delicious shade of red. Running his hand over your heated skin he hummed in approval. 
"Good girl," he praised you, pressing his body against yours running his fingers through your dripping fold, pressing his index and middle finger deep inside of you while his thumb rolled over your clit at the same rhythm he was curling his fingers inside of you, hitting that spot deep down inside of you that only he could
"Look at you all wet for Daddy. Do you want Daddy to fuck that pretty little pussy, full you up with my cum until it's dripping out of you, and down that pretty red ass? Make you mine." 
He growled in your ear, your walls starting to flutter around his fingers that he had buried deep inside of you, your release so close you could taste it.
Right before you were thrown over the edge of your release he pulled himself from you completely knowing you were close, leaving you cold and shuttering on the bed, still on your hands and knees. You could hear him chuckle almost darkly as he rounded the bed pumping his thick length as he admired you. 
"Dean please!" you begged him as he cocked his head to the side, watching you, his eyes lust blown, and a look that reminded you of his time as a demon on his face. 
"Please what, baby girl? What do you want Daddy to do to you, all you gotta do is ask?" 
You whined as he continued to work his tick length slowly keeping himself ready.
"Please Daddy, fuck me!" you whined and he was on you faster than you expected him to be. Grabbing you by your hair and maneuvering you to your back and he crawled over your body. Settling himself between your legs. His tip pressed into your waiting entrance.
"As you wish, Sweetheart," Dean whispered before slamming into you in one quick deep thrust, not giving you any time at all to adjust to his thick girth as he pounded into you as a punishing pace. The coil tightens in your stomach quickly as he fucks you almost flat onto your stomach, his hand slipping around you, and rubbing your clit in harsh circles matching his pace. 
"Dean," you moaned, feeling your release so close that your body was shaking under him. You knew better than to cum without his permission, not when he was this dominant. 
"Not yet," he growled feeling your walls flutter around him. lowing himself down as his lips met yours, his thrust deep and slow, his whole demeanor changing as he slowly drove his cocking into your clenching walls, the tip hitting your cervix almost painfully, but in the best way.
"Look at me, Sweetheart," his voice was so soft that it threw you off guard. You looked at him and for the first time, you saw more love and softness in his eyes than you even saw. 
"I love, Y/N." 
For a moment you were so stunned you didn't know what to say. Tears welling in your eyes surpassing the almost unbearable need to cum for a moment.
"I love you too, Dean." 
"Let go, baby girl," he whispered to you as his lips met yours in a tender, passionate kiss. Your walls clamp down around him and his seed spilling deep inside of you as you both feel over the edge together as your orgasms sweep through your bodies, hitting your very soul, Dean's name a prayer on your lips as he grunted into your neck, his hot breath fanning your skin, and sweat damping both of your bodies.
As soon as you both had control over your breathing Dean pulled out of you slowly, kissing you on your lips before disappearing and heading to the bathroom, coming back with a warm damp rag, and a bottle of lotion to soothe your overly red skin of your ass that was still stinging lightly, and you were pretty sure you'd not only be walking funny, but sitting funny tomorrow as well.
Once Dean was done with the aftercare he climbed back into bed and pulled you tight to his chest. 
"I'm sorry I lost control like that baby, I was too rough with you tonight," Dean mumbled, pressing a chased kiss to the top of your head. 
"You weren't too rough with me Dean. I would have used my safe word if you had been." 
"I was jealous of you hanging out with Sammy all day. I can't handle this sinking around. I don't care who knows we're together. I'll deal with whatever happens, and I'll die protecting you if I have to, but I don't give a damn who your mine." 
He tucked the covers protectively around you, pulling you even tighter against him.
"I love, Sweetheart."
I love you too, Dean. I'm all yours."
"Mine," Dean mumbled. Kissing you softly. "And I'm all yours."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tag List: 
@deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​
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rockhoochie · 4 years
Text
Title: Anything and Everything
Link: On AO3
Square Filled: Tongue Fucking
Pairing: Dean Winchester/YN
Rating: Explicit
Tags: Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Fingering, Oral Sex (M/F), Tongue Fucking, Squirting, Unprotected Sex (seriously, just be safe), Marijuana, mention of prescription narcotic.
WC: 8,290
Created For @spnkinkbingo​
A/N: Well...this escalated quickly! The story is told in alternating POV between Dean and Reader -  Reader’s is regular text, Dean’s is italicized. I debated on splitting this into parts due to the word length, but...well, I’m impatient, and I’m really excited to share this with all of you!  Plus, I think it flows better if it’s read all in one sitting  😉
This fic is dedicated to @fangirlxwritesx67​ - remember that drabble prompt you sent me like, two months ago, that was Dean and reader laying on a comfortable floor, listening to music, and he starts playing with her hair, and they have a first kiss?  Well, here’s your drabble 😄 Thank you for the inspiration!
And thank you everyone for reading!  Drop me a line, let me know what you think - I love hearing from you ❤ ~Sarah
(’Lay Lady Lay’ music and lyrics © Bob Dylan, 1969)
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I set a kettle on the stove to boil.
Thank god Donna has this place, and thank god that we were so close.  We’ve been here for days now, nursing our wounds: Sam had a bruised rib and a nasty gash on his torso. Dean had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder. I'd been flung against a wall - I don’t remember much because I'd been knocked out hard, unconscious for hours - but by some miracle managed to come out of it with only a few ugly bruises and a migraine. Not our worst injuries by a longshot, but we’d figured since we had a home base, we may as well take advantage of it. We’d packed up yesterday,  planning on heading out this morning, but an incoming snowstorm kept us from venturing out - it was half a day's drive, and even Dean couldn’t deny that the Impala doesn’t handle best on icy roads.
I like it here. It’s so quiet. And dark. No sirens or traffic, no various and questionable motel noises. No glare of city lights marring the night sky. The only light outside is coming from the moon, the only sounds are the ones I make. I look out the window, wondering when the storm will move in - the moon is full, its brightness gleaming off acres of driven snow that glints and glimmers against an indigo sky. Normally, a stillness like this is a warning, a silence this pure a screaming harbinger - but I don’t feel any threat here. No forebodings, no gut-nettling intuitions. 
It’s peaceful. I’m peaceful. If I ever leave this life behind me, if I’m lucky enough to dodge all the bullets and claws and teeth and blades, I’ll settle somewhere up here, find a small house on a lake that’s tucked away from the rest of the world. He’d love that. And we could just be, live out our days and years together, work stupid pedestrian jobs to pay stupid everyday bills. I’ll plant a garden and he can restore classic cars while we raise a family and just...live...
The kettle sings and hisses, and outside, snow begins to fall in fat, feathery clusters. I pour the boiling water into a handmade, slightly lopsided clay mug that proudly proclaims “I Love Auntie Donna” in a childish script, dip and drown my tea bag, and shuffle back to my spot in the living room - my little nest in a gorgeous, hand-crafted rocking chair next to the fireplace. Donna told me her grandfather had made it, and every time I look at it, it astounds me that another human being created something so beautiful with his bare hands. Every nitch, nock, and spindle carefully considered and meticulously carved. Some of the stain has faded, and patches of lacquer have dulled, but that only adds to its beauty - you can tell this chair was loved.  
The fire I’d built earlier is down to embers. I sit and stare into the blazing coals, sipping chamomile and scrying for answers to questions I don’t know. The room is warm, but I need something over my shoulders, need the weight of something wrapped around me.  There’s a flannel draped over the back of the rocking chair...one of Dean’s flannels. And it’s my favorite of his, the dark red one that brings out his freckles and the deep jade of his eyes. I take it and slip my arms through the sleeves.  It smells like him...like whiskey and wintergreen, leather and cotton, copper and cordite... 
I catch myself before I start to fall too far.  I need to pack up these thoughts and put them away where they belong before they start making me hopeful again. 
I used to let myself get lost in them, let myself wander through giddy daydreams and float among sultry fantasies...I’d close my eyes at night and pretend Dean was by my side, just an arms reach away. I’d imagine it was his fingers pumping inside of me instead of mine, hear his voice in my head as I made myself come. Or I’d simply think about spending a day with him - walking through a park in autumn, stargazing on a summer night, cuddling and kissing on a rainy spring day. But after a while, when I’d accidentally found myself in love with him, I’d put all those dreams on the shelf; I'd only take them down when I was at my lowest and loneliest, grasping for a reason to keep going. There were a few times I’d thought about telling him, making a move...but Dean Winchester doesn’t need another complication. None of us do.
~*~
The shitty thing about being used to four hours of sleep is that when I actually get the chance for more, my brain doesn’t get on board. I came up here a couple of hours ago and I can’t seem to keep my eyes closed. Just keep staring at the ceiling and thinking about things I shouldn’t...
I love this place. It’s cold outside and the wind’s howlin’, but it’s damn cozy in here. If Hell ever gets a blast of Minnesota weather - and I can pack it in, leave the life - I’m getting a place like this. Hell, I’d build it myself, make it just the way we want it. We could move out here, where it’s almost backcountry, leave all the bad times behind us. It’s gonna be on a lake though - I’ll get a boat and go fishing all the time, teach our kids all the tricks to hooking the big ones...
Jesus, knock it off, Winchester. Like she’d let you screw up her life more than you already have.
YN's moving around downstairs. I should see what she’s up to, see if she’s feelin’ okay or wants any company...nah, I should just leave her alone. She got her bell rung bad the other day and it scared the shit outta me...I kinda lost it and yelled at her like a total asshole. I don’t get why I do that. Gun to my head, I guess it’s cause it seems simpler that way - rather piss her off and keep her from getting too close, instead of admitting out loud how I feel about her and watch her run for the hills.
She was in and out of it for almost two days, and I’d stayed with her as much as I could, at least till Sam would bark at me to eat or sleep. She’d used herself as bait - again- and I fucking hate it when she puts herself in the line of fire like that. I can’t stand it when she gets hurt, and this last time was...pretty bad. But she’s stubborn as hell, can’t be talked out of anything she’s already set her mind to. Actually thought she was gonna punch me when I got in her face, but I escaped with only a “fuck off, Dean”. 
And I suppose those are some of the reasons my dumb ass went and fell ass over tea kettle for her - her grit and her style, the way she can dish it as good she takes it, how she handles either a gun or a blade with this almost unnatural grace... one day, I watched her make salt rounds for an hour and it was one of the most spectacular things I’d ever seen - she was in this total zone, her forehead creased in concentration, and lips mouthing the words to a song I can't hear, growling out the cutest “fuck” or “son of a bitch” if she messed up.  
She’s the best part of my day - whether it’s seein’ her all cranky and bleary-eyed in the morning, passed out over a pile of books in the library, or bent over a pool table while she hustles townies  - I can’t think of a better sight. And her laugh is goddamn music to ears. Her eyes, her smile...her anything and everything keeps me going. I can be two seconds away from checkin’ out, but one look at her reminds me that it's all worth it, worth every drop of blood, sweat, and tears.
Christ, just thinking about her like this is making my dick twitch. Doesn’t help that she laid in this bed the last few days because I can still smell her. Her perfume or soap or whatever she uses is fucking delicious, a mix of spice and spring flowers and brown sugar that sticks to her skin and practically makes my mouth water, makes me wanna taste her…
Fuck, now I’m hard. I think about jerking off for a minute, but instead I think about that time Cas showed up in my car naked and covered with bees and swing my legs off the bed. No sense in just layin’ here, thinkin’ about things that’ll never happen. I grab my duffel and pull out my flask (not much left in there, maybe two or three shots) and some clothes. Gonna check out the room down the hall that’s got one of those old school record players. Maybe some good tunes will calm me down, get my mind off things. Off of her.  I turn to leave but then I remember- there’s a little something in my bag I’ve been hangin' on to. I dig through all my crap and find it in the inside pocket. Awesome. Screw consciousness, I’m gettin’ high.
~*~
I hear footfalls against the ceiling - one of them’s awake. It could be Sam, but I know it’s Dean - I know his stride, his tread. And I also know Sam conceded to the pain and downed an extra dose of Percocet, so he’s all but dead to the world for the next six hours.
We all have problems sleeping, each have our lion’s share of blood-and- gore-laden nightmares, but Dean’s always seem worse. They take a bigger toll on him. He wakes up screaming more often, drenched in a cold sweat with his sheets flung from the bed. Sometimes I hear him shouting in the middle of the night and it breaks my fucking heart.
Maybe I’ll go see if he’s alright, if there’s anything I can do for him... I hope he’s not still pissed at me for what happened on the hunt. Sam told me it was just because I’d scared him, because he cares about me, that it’s just easier for Dean to blow up instead of break down. But dammit I wish he’d open up, just a little. There were a couple of nights he and I had spent just hanging out together, nights where whiskey was flowing and secrets were shared...but right when it seemed like he was going to let me in on what was really going on in his head, he’d stopped himself, drained his glass, and said goodnight. 
I know what he’s been through. Or rather, I know of what he's been through. It would be sacrilege for me to even try to begin to empathize. I know about things he’s done, his devils and deeds that are unforgivable in most circles but necessary in ours. 
Dean is a good man. Everything he’s done has been a labor of love, a sacrifice. I know he doubts himself constantly and I know he hurts, vehemently and deeply.  But if he’d just let me in, if I could love him the way he deserves, I’d do anything and everything I could to take all that pain and somehow dull it. Sometimes I can actually get a smile out of him and it’s one of the most marvelous things I’ve ever seen - when the corners of his green eyes crinkle and his teeth peek out from behind those ridiculously perfect lips...god, it’s beautiful. He is beautiful, inside and out and I wish he could see that. 
Now I’m wide awake. My tea’s gone cold, and I’ve spent too much time wallowing in these thoughts that shouldn’t be wallowed in, and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. I glance out a window and watch the now steadily falling snow, listen to the wind whip and whistle through the frigid night air. Sitting here in the dark alone with all of these thoughts has become too lonely. There’s a  room upstairs,  a little den with a couple of chairs and one of those huge console record players...I’ll grab that book I’ve been meaning to read and hang out in there, let some music fill the quiet and the story busy my brain. 
I take my mug to the kitchen, place it in the sink, and pull Dean’s flannel around me tighter. Hopefully, he won’t mind if I borrow it for the night. This way, I can be close to him without ruining things.
Music echoes down the staircase and I recognize the tune as I get closer to its source. Bob Dylan. Nashville Skyline, I think. Dim, golden light beckons me to follow and leads me to a doorway. I look down and find him lying on the floor, with his ankles crossed, and one arm bent behind his head, blowing a plume of smoke toward the ceiling.
“Hey,” I whisper, and he turns his face toward me, looking up at me with mellow eyes and an easygoing smile.
“Hey yourself. Can’t sleep?” 
I shake my head. “Thought I’d come in here and check out Donna’s music collection. But I see you had the same idea, so -”
“So? Come on in, stay awhile.” He pats the floor beside him, then holds up the joint fastened between his fingers. “It’d be a lot cooler if you did.”
I should really go, leave him to his own devices, avoid torturing myself. But before reason has any chance to intervene, I find myself lying next to him. He’s more of a drug to me than the smoke I’m sucking through my lips. I want to stay away, I should stay away, but I can’t fucking help myself. So like a good little junkie I give in, tell myself this is no big deal, that I can go back to not thinking about him tomorrow.
~*~
I’m so glad she decided to stay.
I don’t know if it’s the weed or the cold, dark night or what it is, but when I saw her standing there, all I wanted was to just have her near me. Even if all I get to do is hear her voice or just feel her presence next to me...well, I’ll take it. It’s not like this anything new, we’ve hung out like this plenty of times...though it’s times like this when I get so comfortable around her, that I really gotta reign it in and make sure I keep my damn mouth shut. And it never seems to get easier - like right now. She’s humming along to the music, making up her own words here and there and playing air guitar and it’s friggin’ adorable. She really is one in a million and if things were different, I’d hold on to her and never let go.
Somethin’ Sam said a while back pops into my head - somethin’ about finding someone who knows the life - and for a second I think maybe things don’t need to be different. Maybe we could make it work. But then I remember I’m toxic. Even for a hunter I drink too much, have too many fucked up thoughts, done way too many fucked up things. No, she deserves someone good, someone better than me. I can’t even believe she’s stuck around for this long. Sometimes I just look at her and wanna scream, “run”, before she gets hurt. I’ve accepted that I’ll never get the happily ever after but she shouldn’t. She can still get out, have a real life, meet someone who’ll give her everything and make her happy. Never in my life will I be able to give that to anyone - it just ain’t in the cards for me.
Then she looks at me, passes me the joint with this sweet smile, and all those thoughts just fade away. And I wonder - like I wonder almost every night - how her lips would feel against mine. 
Sam keeps tellin’ me that I’m an idiot, that she really likes me, that I should go for it. And for a minute, I actually think about it, cause the way she’s lookin’ at me right now is downright incredible - she actually looks happy to be here, with me. 
Is she? 
Truth is I'm selfish. And a bit of a coward. I'm too afraid to love anyone because I'm too afraid to lose them. Everyone I've ever lost took a piece of me with them and I ain't got much left. If anything ever happened to YN, I’d be done. She’d take the last of me.
I’m feelin’ a little goofy. Not stoned or anything, but definitely running out of fucks to give. Then I glance at her and notice she’s wiggling out of her button-down.. .my button-down. She rolls it up, tucks it beneath her head, and stretches back out on the floor. Her tank top is creeping up over her stomach a little bit, and it’s stretched tight over her tits and she’s got nothin’ on underneath…
I swallow hard and bite down on my lip cause I’m this close to just flat-out telling her I love her.
~*~
Part of me wants to tell Donna she desperately needs to redecorate this room...but the other, the part of me that's stretched out on the floor, listening to classic 33s and getting high with Dean, is perfectly content with the old-school kitsch. The shag carpeting we’re laying on is surprisingly comfortable; The color (what is this, ocher? Chartreuse?) - shouldn’t be allowed to exist, but the long polyester threads sprawling beneath us are soothing in a way. The light is low, flickering from two vintage oil lamps that stand on each end of the console, and casts shadows beneath its warm glow.  
Dean looks like he’s about to say something, but the last song has ended and skipped into a static scratch. He hoists himself up to flip the record, and I perch on my elbows and just...admire him. He’s different here. I’ve seen him lounge around the bunker during downtime but tonight he actually seems powered-down, carefree. There's something almost magical about what the calm does to him, how it lifts the weight he carries. His shoulders are relaxed, his movements languid, unhurried and uncalculated, eyes bright and serene. And he looks so fucking good, wearing a well-worn and well-fitting Zeppelin t-shirt that he must've had since before he’d built up his muscle. Softened and faded jeans cover his bowed legs and hang low on his hips, and I don’t think he’s got anything on underneath because I get a glimpse at the cut of his abs and...  
I wish I could tell him how amazing he is, how much he makes me smile, how much I love him; I wish I could show him, hold him, kiss him and just love him with everything I have...
The music starts back up and oh my god… he’s dancing. It’s really more of a slow-motion Elvis maneuver, but it’s the closest thing to dancing I’ve ever seen Dean do. Every tick of his hips pulls the fabric of his jeans perfectly across his ass, and I shouldn't be thinking about him this way but he’s just so mesmerizing…
And then he turns and faces me with his best impression of his best Bob Dylan.
Lay lady lay, 
Lay across my big brass bed
Lay lady lay, 
Lay across my big brass bed...
I throw my head back and laugh, not because he’s being ridiculous, but because he’s being so goddamn perfect. And the joy I thought I’d lost the day I cocked my first shotgun is bubbling up and making me giddy. Or it’s him. Or it could just be the pot. This is a side of him that no one gets to see, not even his brother. I can give him this, a place to let go of it all and just be Dean Winchester for a little while. He’s easy here, content, and he actually seems happy that I decided to stay.
Is he?
He claims his spot beside me again, settling in just a little closer. He's still singing to me and I'm still giggling…
Whatever colors you have in your mind
I show them to you and you see them shine
Lay lady lay
Lay across my big brass bed
Somehow his hand found mine, and he's tracing my knuckles with one calloused fingertip. I take it in mine and glance down at the connection, marveling at how small my hand is in his but how perfectly it fits. His hand is so gentle, warm and solid...it’s hard to believe how often his palm has bled, how many triggers his fingers have pulled, how many bones his fist has shattered.
He shifts, rolls to his side, and gazes down at me while he keeps up his serenade.
Stay lady stay
Stay with your man a while
Until the break of day
Let me see you make him smile
I grin as he brushes my hair from my face, tucks a few strands behind my ear, winds a section around his fingers. Then I see something in his face that’s never been there before - a shade of color reflecting from his eyes that's deep and rich and vibrant…
His clothes are dirty but his, his hands are clean
And you are the best thing that he's ever seen
Stay lady stay
Stay with your man a while
The way he's muttering the lyrics...it’s so sincere, like he means every single word.  The warmth of his body is just out of my reach, and the low timbre of his voice begins to resonate through my veins, nestling into a locked corner of my soul.
Why wait any longer for the world to begin
You can have your cake and eat it too
Why wait any longer for the one you love
When he's standing in front of you 
He’s still playing with my hair, pushing any stray strands from my face…my eyes flutter closed and his touch becomes something warmer, softer. Delicate, intentional kisses pepper my cheekbones, my temples, my forehead...
Lay lady lay
Lay across my big brass bed
Stay lady stay
Stay while the night is still ahead
I feel his thumb and forefinger catch and tilt my chin, and I open my eyes. He’s so close now, close enough that if I rolled on my side I’d roll into him, that if I lifted my head just an inch...
I long to see you in the morning light
I long to reach for you in the night
Stay lady stay
Stay while the night is still ahead
The silent formation of the last few lyrics are the first thing I feel and then his lips are fully on mine, barely grasped between his and I've never felt something so tender and genuine carry itself with so much force. He's cradling my cheek and his kiss feels tentative, uncertain - but at the same time teeming with need, as though he’s waiting for my approval while praying with everything he’s got that I’ll grant it. So I lean into him, slide my fingers along the short hairs on the back of his neck, and pull him closer. 
~*~
Maybe it was the weed, the music, the way the light reflected off her… whatever it was, it just took over. She looked too soft and too damn perfect, layin’ there and smiling that smile. And I thought about the other day when she was lying unconscious on that blood-stained, concrete floor, and the way my guts twisted at the thought of losing her…
I just couldn’t do it anymore.
I couldn't go one more night without telling her exactly how much she means to me. And it was a cheesy way to do it, singing to her like that, but Bob knew all the right things to say.
I actually can't even believe she's kissing me right now, that she pulled me close and wrapped her arms around me. Part of me thinks she's nuts - she's gotta know I got nothing to offer her, that she deserves so much better- better than me, better than this life. I can’t promise her anything - can’t promise a future or comfort... but if she lets me, I can promise to love her, to kiss her with everything I’ve got every chance I get, to hold her close and protect her... even if it’s just for tonight. 
She makes a little sound and arches her body into mine. I don’t know how far this is gonna go, but I’ll take my time getting there. This may just be a fluke, a one-time thing. Or maybe it’s not, maybe I’m the luckiest bastard on the fucking planet...either way, I want to savor every second.
I keep the kisses slow, open-mouthed and gentle. But then I feel her tongue slide along my lower lip and I can’t help but slip mine against hers. This feels so good, just kissing her like this, tasting her and feeling her beneath me. She’s running her fingers through my hair, rolling her hips every now and then, sliding her hand down my side and across my back. I kiss her harder, deeper. She’s moving more, breathing faster, making these quiet little whimpers. I break away and look at her, smoothing some of her hair away from her beautiful face. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are half-closed and right at this moment she could ask me to shoot the moon and I’d kill it dead. 
Her hand brushes my cheek and she pushes into me, silently begging me to keep going.
“You sure?” I whisper in her ear, kissing the space just behind it.
She nods and mutters “please,” and I move my lips down her neck. Her body trembles when I land on the spot where her neck curves into her shoulder - I give her skin there a little nip and she gasps... fuck, I need to hear that sound over and over.  I’m gonna map her entire body, figure out just the right way to touch her. Run my hands over every point, plane and curve, find every spot that makes her moan and quiver and sigh. I wanna drown, lose myself in her. I want her to know that I know how special she is, that I get how lucky I am to be with her tonight, that I understand what she’s giving me. I kneel between her legs, take hold of her wrists, and slowly push her arms above her head.
I need to see and feel and taste every single inch of her and I’m not gonna be quick about it.
~*~
First kisses are usually awkward. Heads bump, teeth collide, hands float and fumble while they try to find a comfortable place to land.
So I don’t know if it’s dumb luck, or just that I’ve practiced this so many times in my mind, but we find a rhythm instantly and we fit, like we’ve known all along exactly how to kiss each other. It’s so perfect that I almost laugh out loud, dumbfounded that I ever thought that we shouldn’t do this. Our kiss is absolute, passionate and all-consuming, and sending every neuron in my brain firing into a tailspin. 
I never want to stop kissing him. 
My arms are above my head and he's teasing me, softly kneading my breasts over my top, flicking at the stiff peaks of my nipples. I lower my hands to pull at our shirts, to let him know I need to feel his touch on my bare skin, but he gently curls his fingers around my wrists again and guides them back up.
"Let me," he murmurs, sliding his palm down my breastbone, over my stomach and finally beneath my top. “Just... let me…” 
Right as he cups my breast and traps my nipple between his fingers he’s kissing me again, swallowing every sound he’s pulling from me. I melt into him, into his kiss, into his touch. He pushes my tank top over my head and then his lips are on my neck, my collarbone, my shoulders. My forearms and fingers are dotted with kisses, along with my hips and navel, and then he’s peeling off my leggings, never once taking his eyes off of me. I’m completely bare beneath him and he’s biting his lower lip, running his hands from each of my ankles to my calves, my knees, my thighs...he looks as though he can’t decide if he wants to ravish me or revere me.
He settles for a smooth, easy assault, touching and kissing me everywhere, lingering whenever I cry out or sigh. I’ve never felt like this, never felt so...worshipped. His fingers and lips glide along my body as though I’m a delicate thing - carefully, thoroughly, and completely. My skin feels taut, chilled and tingling, but my blood is pumping hot and fast beneath. And when his tongue swirls around my nipple, and he takes it between his teeth, I swear to god I’d come right now if he told me to. 
I know I’m wet, I can feel it, hot and dripping and my cunt is clenching, clit throbbing with a deep, insistent  ache that almost hurts. Dean is everywhere, exploring and marking and claiming, until I hear myself begging, pleading...I need to feel him inside of me. I need him to unravel me, to make me come undone.
~*~
The way she looks right now is so goddamn glorious, she doesn’t seem real. She’s ruddy and glowing, twisting beneath me, chanting my name and begging with kiss-swollen lips. I let my hand slide between her legs, run a finger between her folds and christ - she is so fucking wet. She lifts her knees and spreads wide open for me and I dip just the tip of one finger inside. She ruts forward and I push two fingers all the way into her tight, hot pussy and fucking hell, she feels smoother than silk. I keep it slow, steady, loving the way her eyes roll back when I flick my thumb over her clit, and the way her tongue darts between her parted lips as I twist my fingers inside her cunt, searching for that spot...
Her eyes go wide when I find it, and her neck arches back and her hands fist the carpet. She’s quietly moaning and cursing and pushing herself down, fucking herself on my fingers. I catch her scent and some animal urge takes over me; I pull my fingers from her, bring them to my mouth and suck them clean. She's like fucking nectar and I’ve never tasted anything so good and all I want is more…
I pull my shirt over my head, push my jeans off, press her thighs as far open as she can spread them - god, her pussy is perfect, so pink and slick - and take a long, slow taste. She moans, low and long, breathing out a desperate “fuck, yes…” as she cards her fingers through my hair. And I growl, I fucking growl like a goddamn dog, and drive my tongue into her dripping hole. She hooks one leg over my shoulder and tilts her hips and I grab on to her ass and hold her up.  I lick her deep, thrusting and flicking and swirling my tongue, filling my mouth with the flavor of her, then I peer up at her and...My. Fucking. God, she’s a vision. She’s shaking, twitching and gasping when my nose bumps her clit...
I slip my tongue from her cunt, ease her down and spread her open with my fingers, lapping at her folds, her entrance, her clit. Then  I take that sensitive little bud between my lips and suck and holy shit, the fucking sound she makes...I gotta make her come. I need to see it, feel it, hear it.
But first I drag my mouth up her body, stopping to nip at her neck before landing on her lips. She licks into my mouth instantly, sucks at my lower lip, pushes her tongue against mine and I can tell she’s about to lose her mind.
~*~
I'd been in more than one motel room next to Dean's. And I'd always rolled my eyes, convinced that whatever girl he'd brought back with him was just putting on a show, playing porn star with their over-the-top wailing. 
They weren't screaming loud enough.
“Can you taste yourself, baby?” he purrs between kisses, "You taste how fuckin' delectable your pussy is? So hot and sweet...” and I moan into his mouth. He slips his fingers back inside and curls them, nudging my sweet spot. “Want you come, YN…wanna make you fall apart..."
I'm biting my lip to keep from crying out too loudly, stifling the urge to scream because the pleasure he's giving me is so complete and consuming. I swear he knows my body better than I do. He's found places on me and inside of me that feel like they've never been touched until tonight. I'd thought maybe I was hypersensitive, so eager and thrilled that this was finally happening, but no - everything he does is deliberate. He finds a spot and knows whether to bite or kiss, push or pull, grind or slide, when to do it all at once or not at all. Every touch, every stroke sparks my nerves and ignites my cells and I'm down to my last fragments of control. I am utterly at his mercy, reduced to a writhing, wanton mess as his fingers slide inside of me, hitting my g-spot with incredible marksmanship. Then his lips land on my clit again, and...oh God. Oh my fucking god…
It starts in my belly, a molten heat simmering in my core, wavering a scant wavelength away from a fever pitch. It’s hot and thrumming and growing in speed and intensity until it can't be contained anymore. It bolts through me, hot and hard like an electric current and I go rigid as I come, the torrents of bliss saturating every molecule of my body. And then Dean is up on his knees, three fingers deep in my sodden cunt, his other hand laying flat on my lower stomach and muttering "Come on baby,...let go…let go for me…" Either I'm still coming or I'm coming again, hard and completely, and a quiet pull snaps from someplace deep inside... I completely shatter, so stunned with the sensation that I open my mouth in a silent scream as my cum splashes against his hand.
~*~
I tuck back down between her legs and softly lap at the stray drops sticking to her thighs. I’m about to go crazy - I’m hungry, starving for her, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking hard in my life. 
I lay beside her, trace shapes on her collarbone, and watch her as she comes down - the way her tits rise and fall with every breath, the way her throat flexes when she swallows, the way the lamplight dances off her sweat-sheened skin. Her eyes are closed, mouth slightly opened, and her tongue sneaks out every now and then across her lips. Of all the ways I’ve ever seen YN, this has to be the absolute, bar-none best. She’s like a living statue or a painting, some kind of work of art. A goddamn masterpiece. 
I don’t want to stop touching her. Right now, I don’t even think I could. She shudders and opens her eyes when I gently trace a wet finger along her cheek. Then she grabs my wrist, pulls my hand to her mouth, and wraps her lips around the fingers I used to fuck her. She sucks and licks, and all I can do is groan as my fingers slide along her tongue. I gotta distract myself or I’m gonna shoot off right now like a teenager…
I take my fingers back and move to hover over her, and catch her lips in mine again. Kissing her is so...it just feels right. Like hers are the only lips I ever need to kiss again. If this is all we do for the rest of the night - hell, for the rest of our lives, I’d be one hundred percent happy.  But as we kiss, she starts to whimper, moan...and then I feel her fingertips skitter down my torso and brush against my cock. And I can’t help it, I grunt out a “fuck, YN” and chase her touch. She drags her thumb, then her palm against the tip of my dick, smears precome around my shaft then wraps me in her fingers. I bite my lip and rock into her fist while she strokes me, trying like hell not to lose it any time she gives the slightest squeeze. I can feel her breath on my face and I’m starting to fall into the rhythm, getting lost in her touch and the heat of her body beneath me…
Then in the flash of a second, she hooks a leg around my waist, shifts her weight and turns, and has me on my back. She's straddling me, and I watch her slick pussy drag along my cock while my hands slide up her thighs and grip her hips. My eyes wander, slowly, up her body, marveling at her shape and color and just the mere sight of her swaying over me. My eyes meet hers and then...I'm trapped. Hypnotized. Being here with this woman is like nothing I've ever seen or felt before, and there's some part of me that knows I'll never feel this way about anyone ever again.
~*~
My gaze meets his and I'm struck...with exactly what, I don't know. It's thrilling and terrifying at the same time but most of all it's certain; This is exactly where I'm meant to be, astride this beautiful man who’s lying beneath me, stripped of all his layers, and I can feel the moment he surrenders. His mind and his body, his control and his chaos, his pleasure and his pain, all together unfettered and unfurled. 
Potent and fervent primal desire sets in and overtakes me; I want to claim him, feel his skin between my teeth, taste the salt of his sweat.
I shift to my knees, slot myself between his open legs and lean forward, pressing myself against the solid heat of his bare chest, and catch his lips in a quick but ravenous kiss. He tries to chase it but I pull away, letting one hand slide up his sternum, splaying my fingers over his throat. I fist his hard, dripping cock in my free hand and stroke. He breathes out my name with a curse and his head hits the floor as my mouth latches on to his neck.
Releasing my hold on him, my lips move from his neck to his collarbone, down and across his chest, following the blueprint of bruises, scratches, and scars until my nose brushes against the thatch of dark hair between his legs.
I flatten my tongue and lick his thick cock from base to tip, then take just the crown between my lips and gently suck. The taste of his precome fills my mouth and he moans and trembles, exhaling a long, deeply held breath as he laces his fingers in my hair. I take him all the way then, as far as I can, until I feel him hit the back of my throat. I hold him there and swallow, let him feel the soft flex around his shaft. I slide up and down slowly, stroking the inches that can’t slide down my throat with one hand, and cup his balls in the other. He whimpers, high-pitched and desperate, and the mere sound of that sends drops of arousal trickling down my thighs while my cunt clenches and quivers. His grip on my head tightens and I keep steady, caressing and taking him deep, and let the tip of one finger press against his perineum. 
His body tenses and I peer up at him - the muscles of his abs are twitching, his neck is arched back, the tendons there strained and taut, jaw clenched, and teeth bared...he’s holding back, trying not to come. He hisses out a breath and gently tugs my hair, urging me to let him slip from my mouth. “Fuck, YN”, he breathes, and I walk my hands alongside of him, gliding my body against his and brush his lips with a gossamer kiss. 
We both breathe hard, panting, fingers tangling in each other’s hair, hips rolling, hearts racing. His hard, thick length is sliding against the soaked lips of my pussy, the head of his cock nudging my throbbing clit. I look into the dark forest of his eyes, he places his hand on my cheek and suddenly there’s a surge - a swift and commanding energy that surrounds us, tangible and unconditional. 
Our gaze locks as I raise my hips. He grips his cock, lines up at my entrance, and I sink down slowly, relishing every inch that stretches me open, my moan echoing his until I’m completely filled with him. 
~*~
It’s almost too much.
She’s so warm, so wet, and so fucking tight...I swear I blackout for a second. It’s taking everything I got to hold on, and every ounce of control I can muster when she starts to move. 
She’s groaning and sighing, and the way she’s breathing my name is like a siren’s song. I let her set the pace, tilt my hips to push into her as she rides me, find her hand and lace my fingers through hers. She fucks me slow, lets her head fall back and lays her free hand on my chest. Reaching up, I slide my hand between her tits, pinch and tug one nipple between my thumb and forefinger, and she lets out the most beautiful cry I’ve ever heard. And that sound wakes up the damn animal in me and I thrust into her, as deep as I can. I want her to fucking explode, feel her cunt throbbing tight around my dick and soaking me with her cum.
She pulls her hand from mine and moves it between her legs. I pinch her nipple again and she gasps as her body trembles, and I know she’s getting close. “Gonna come for me, YN?” I snarl, and she stills - her head falls back again and her fingers work faster, and I’m so caught up in her that I just start babbling. “Fuck yeah, YN, fucking come all over my cock…that’s my girl...” I pound into her faster as she gets tighter and wetter and then I feel it, her walls clenching and her cum dripping, her body finally going rigid as her orgasm tears through her. 
I slow down and ease her through it, trace my fingertips over the curves of her glowing body and take in how absolutely stunning she is right now - her hair all mussed and tangled, her skin flushed pink, her lips bright red and swollen. Her eyes open and she grins down at me, the lazy roll of her hips picking up speed and I just...fucking...can't anymore.
I throw my arms around her and pull her against me, kissing her sweet lips as I roll us over. She arches into me, takes my face in her hands and purrs "...want it all inside me...I wanna feel your cum dripping from my cunt…" and holy goddamn shit, I'm gonna give her everything she wants.
She raises her knees and hooks her legs around mine, digs her heels into the back of my thighs, squeezes the walls of her pussy around me and I’m gone - all I feel is her silky wet heat, and all I can smell and taste is her sex and I drive in, fast and steady until I can’t hang on anymore. I let go and my world stops, every living fiber of my being at a standstill as I come with a shout. I thrust hard and deep and spill every drop inside of her, pumping her full as she fingers herself to another climax.
I rest my forehead against hers as we both catch our breath. She curls one hand around my waist and the other around the back of my shoulder, raking her fingernails gently along the base of my scalp. I kiss her, soft and quick, and pull out of her, rolling on to my back while I gather her in my arms. 
I glance out the window. The snow’s still falling and the sun’ll start rising soon. The record is long over and skipping, and YN grips me tighter and shivers. “Hey, sweetheart...let me up,” I say, kissing her forehead. She groans but lets me go and I sit up, lean down to kiss her again and hop to my feet. I lift the needle off the record and find a quilt that’s tossed over one of the chairs. YN's curled on her side, and I can hardly wait to get back to her. I cover us both, pull her close, and I stare at her until I just can't keep my eyes open anymore. We drift off in each other’s arms and the last thought I think is a little prayer - that this is how I’ll fall asleep every night for the rest of my life. 
~*~
I can’t remember who said it first. All I know is that it was suddenly there, as though it always had been, free falling from our lips as we moved and moaned and came together. 
We’d awoken several times, one of us roused by a kiss or touch from the other, neither of us willing nor able to let it end without making love one more time.  
The storm has finally passed. Sunshine beams across an azure sky and reflects with blinding brilliance off acres of freshly fallen snow.  I peek out the kitchen window and catch a glimpse of Sam standing near the garage, up to his knees in icy white powder.  
I set a kettle on the stove to boil. 
“Look like we ain’t goin' anywhere any time soon,” Dean says, coming up behind me and circling his arms around me. He moves my hair away from my neck and nips at the exposed skin.
I lean against him and cover his clasped hands with mine. “Can’t say I’m all that disappointed.” 
He hums and kisses my cheek, then moves his hands to rest on the swell of my belly.
“Your old man's gonna teach you how to make the best snowballs, kid. Knock your Uncle Sammy right off his ass.”
I giggle and spin around, draping my arms over Dean’s shoulders. “Big talk coming from the man who got a black eye during last year’s snowball fight.” 
“That was a fluke. She had an unfair advantage.”
"She's less than half your size!” 
“Exactly.”
The door opens and Sam trudges in, shaking and stomping the snow from his legs, laughing as he's nearly knocked over by a whirling, bright pink dervish of weatherproof polyester.
Our daughter runs over to us, cheeks rosy and nose runny from the cold, her apple-green eyes as big as sledding saucers.
“Mommy, Daddy, guess what?! We had a snowball fight and I won!”
“Ho ho! That’s my awesome little girl!” Dean cheers, scooping her up in his arms and swinging her through the air. He rests her on his hip, and they trade an Eskimo kiss. “Let’s go tell your Auntie Eileen and your baby cousin all about how you kicked your Uncle Sammy’s a - uh, butt.”
He sets her down and helps her unlace her boots while she tosses her hat and mittens to the floor. “Yeah, I kicked his ass!” she beams, and the three supposed adults in the room have to bite back their laughter.
“Yep,” he sighs, shaking his head. “Definitely a Winchester. No two ways...”
Once she's out of her boots and winter overall, she runs to Sam, grabs his thumb with her small hand and pulls him through the kitchen. Her tiny footsteps pelt up the stairs, layered with gleeful giggles. Then, with all the vivacity of her five years, she shrieks in triumph, “I beat you again, Uncle Sammy! I win again!”
Dean grins wide, pulls me back into his arms, and catches my lips in a kiss that teems with the same intense passion as the first one he ever gave me. And in seconds I’m melting, into his kiss, into him... into memories of a snowstorm and shag carpeting, the smoke of purple kush and the flicker of oil lamp flames, the pedal steel guitar riff of Lay Lady Lay and Dean’s hip-swaying serenade...
He breaks away, brushes a section of my hair away from my brow and tucks it behind my ear. Then he looks into my eyes with unwavering conviction and repeats the promise he’s made me every day since he took my hand in his - a promise that's as simple as it is complex, selfish yet altruistic,  sometimes dubious but always definite, and anything and everything in between: 
“I love you, YN.”
~Fin
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lifeinahole27 · 4 years
Text
CS ff: “Walking the Tightrope” (Epilogue) (au)
Summary: Killian’s daily routines are a matter of habit. When he wakes up late one morning, his routines all change for the better. Emma doesn’t care about routines, but she does care about Killian, no matter how reluctant she is to admit it to herself.
Rating: E (the content warnings matter this time!)
Content Warnings: There’s uhhh... poetry smut.
A Special Thank You: My continued gratitude to my lovely friends, @captainstudmuffin and @phiralovesloki. And a heap of love to @captainswanbigbang for putting this together and helping me accomplish this.
A/N: Holy crap! Here we are! It’s the end of the story!! Now, for those of you who read the original story, there’s not a whole lot that’s changed. I edited everything to fit the rest of the story and writing style, since the original version was a little rough, but other than little bits, it’s what you remember. If you didn’t read this, then welcome to the end! 
My eternal gratitude to those who helped me finish this, those who helped find my errors (my two lovely ladies are listed above), to those who read this! Who reblogged it! Who left comments and sweet tags and sent messages and made this all worth it. I constantly say that I cannot express how thankful I am and it’s true. With only words, I can only say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. <3<3
This epilogue is meant to tie bows around a couple major things and send these off the best way I know how. I still have a stack of headcanons and info that wouldn’t fit in here. I would love to share these things if anyone is curious. If you are, or have questions, or want to talk about specific parts, please send me messages. I would love to chat about this world that has lived in my brain and morphed over the last FIVE YEARS. 
(Poetry included is not mine: All rights reserved to Pablo Neruda "My love, understand me" and "Night on the Island" and to Leonard Cohen "The Mists of Pornography")
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 |
Find it on Ao3 & FFN!
-x-
Epilogue: The Art of Poetry
-x- April 
The day that Killian forgets the coffee mugs on his counter is the day he locks himself out of his apartment for the first time. He and Emma huddle on the front stoop together in the early morning chill waiting for his landlord to come unlock the door. He opens his jacket and pulls her closer, jumping when her cold nose touches his collarbone and she chuckles as she repeats the action until her nose is warm and he’s even warmer. They thank Marco profusely when he arrives with the spare set of keys.
They’re also both late for work that day.
The next day, when Emma comes back from getting coffee, there’s an envelope propped in front of her computer at work. When she opens it, a weight settles in the envelope and she pulls out the folded note. Killian’s neat handwriting stretches across the paper.
“My love,
understand me,
I love all of you,
from eyes to feet, to toenails,
inside
all the brightness, which you kept.
It is I, my love,
who knocks at your door.”
So next time I lock myself out, you can unlock it for me.
She peers into the envelope to see the key resting in the bottom and thinks he may be onto something with poetry if it always sounds like that.
Emma makes sure to beat Killian to the door when they walk back to his place after work so she can try out her new key, and she only smiles wider when the lock slides open. She makes a big show of swinging open the door, gesturing him inside with a sweep of her arm. 
When she gets home that night, Snow and David have once again broken into her loft, but she doesn’t much care for two reasons. Firstly, she knew they were going to do this after they texted her twenty minutes ago and asked whether or not she was spending the night at Killian’s. Secondly, it takes her five whole seconds to read the message on Snow’s shirt that proudly states that she’s “Pregnant AF” (the shirt’s words, not hers) and there’s a whole bunch of happy crying and flailing that follows. 
-x- Late August
Emma arrives home a little late one night to Killian already making dinner. The routines they do still live with all include household chores and the way they divvy them up, and she’s perfectly fine with the structure he’s brought to her previously chaotic lifestyle. He glances over his shoulder when she walks in and smiles.
“Get stuck late again?”
“Not quite,” she says as she comes to stand behind him. “That smells amazing, by the way.”
“It’ll be done in just a bit.”
“Want me to set the table?”
“I’d like to know why you’re avoiding a simple inquiry into why you were so late in such an obvious manner.”
Emma sighs heavily. “I kind of walked all the way back to the loft before I realized I didn’t live there anymore.”
“Kind of? I don’t think that’s something you can kind of do, love,” he says, still managing to stir whatever it is he’s making even when she goes to swat his arm. 
“Okay, so I did. You said it yourself, though. Old habits, right?” She hops up on the counter to watch him cook. 
“Indeed, love. So, I’ve been meaning to ask you. How do you feel our adventures have measured up to the expectations?”
“Well, you didn’t turn into a frog.”
“Aye, I’m sure there’s still time for that. We’re only in the middle of this tale. We’ll just have to see where the pages take us from here.”
“You are such a fucking romance novelist,” she says, laughing brightly when Killian removes his sauce from the stove and turns it off before he moves in to attack. And even though she’s squirming to get away from his nimble fingers as they target her ticklish spots, she sends up a quick thank you to Killian’s faulty alarm clock and his old habit of routines. 
-x- September
“You could just leave those until later,” Killian says, coming up behind Emma as she washes their dishes from dinner. He has his hand and hook on her hips and his lips on her hair, his voice full of implication. 
He’s learned not to try to talk her out of cleaning up, and instead he just enjoys distracting her in the best ways possible. 
She’s wearing a skirt - something she only does when she’s out of leggings - and the soft gray jersey fabric clings to her hips before flaring and draping down. It hides much of her legs, but her backside looks fantastic in it. On top, she has a light yellow shirt that’s tickling at his memories, the lines of a poem he once memorized during his university years making their way back to mind. 
Steady movements continue as she washes and rinses each dish, stacking them in the drying rack before starting to scrub out the sink. He’s struggling to remember the lines, yellow sweater, and with a smirk he glides his hand down to palm the back of her thigh.
“These are anything but boyish haunches,” he says out loud. Emma gasps as the shift from peaceful innocence to dirty.
“What?”
He hums, nosing some of her hair aside so he can find her neck with his lips. “From a poem. Your shirt brought it back to me. ‘The Mists of Pornography’ was the title,” he responds, moving his hand to the front of her thigh and sliding it up to rest on a spot right below her hipbones.
“Why am I not surprised that you know something with ‘pornography’ in the title?”
“Ah, but Swan, it’s about much more than that. Close your eyes. Listen,” he says, and uses his hook to brush the hair off her neck and lean closer to her ear. He sways just a little bit closer as he starts to speak. 
When you rose out of the mist / of pornography - He runs a single finger along her spine until it rests between her shoulders - with your talk of marriage / and orgies / I was a mere boy / of fifty-seven / trying to make a fast buck / in the slow lane / It was ten years too late / but I finally got / the most beautiful girl / on the religious left / to go with her lips / to the sunless place - and here he makes sure to push his hips against her to emphasize as she snorts. He continues reciting, crowding her against the counter, making sure the edge is pressing right where he wants it to.
This was my life / in Los Angeles / when you slowly / removed your yellow sweater - As he speaks, he slowly draws her shirt over her head and she lifts her arms - and I slobbered over / your boyish haunches - He runs his hand over the path that started this all and pushes the skirt off her hips to rub over the back of a now-bare thigh - and I tried to be / a husband / to your dark and motherly / intentions.
I thank you / for the ponderous songs / I brought to completion / instead of fucking you / more often - He punctuates by rolling his hips against her and she gasps as she clutches the sink for stability, and he keeps going.
Your panic cannot hurry me here / and my panic and falling / shoulders / our shameless lives / are the grains / scattered for an offering / before the staggering heights / of our love - His hand glides over her stomach and up to cup a breast through her bra. He’s sure she can feel where his cock is pressing against her ass, hard and wanting. Her hips are pinned against the sink and with each line, he thrusts against her, slowly lighting the fuse of what promises to be a spectacular orgasm if he doesn’t stop.
And the other side of your anxiety / is a hammock of sweat / and moaning - It’s getting harder to pay attention to the poem, especially when he pulls down the straps and cups of her bra, palm meeting her already hardened nipples as he alternates between them. Her body shudders with pleasure and he struggles to continue - and time comes down / like the smallest pet of God / to lick our fingers - he licks her shoulder instead - as we sleep / in the tangle / of straps and bracelets. 
With a great deal of effort, he keeps going, trying to make the lines appear in his head so he can read them off with ease and still give her the attention she deserves - and Oh the sweetness of first nights / and twenty-third nights / and nights / after death and bitterness - She reaches one arm back to wrap around his neck and firmly grasps his hair - and the impeccable order / of the objects on the table - He’s rocking her into the counter at just the right speed and he can tell how close she is with each new word - the weightless irrelevance / of all our old intentions / as we undo / as we undo / every difference.
With the last word of the poem out of his mouth, she tugs hard at his hair and she climaxes, coming undone and leaning back against his chest and tries to catch her breath. 
“Oh god, Killian,” she moans. He’s still rocking them against the counter as she rides out her orgasm. “By far, this is the most interesting way you’ve ever made me orgasm.
“Have I made you a fan of poetry yet, Swan?” He moves his hand back down to her hips, his fingers sliding just under the waist of her panties. She feels loose and light as she turns in his arms and pulls him against her.
“A couple more poems like that and I can definitely be convinced,” she says. “But for now I think I’m more interested in spending time with this one. What was that about lips and sunless places?”
His mind reels because she drops to her knees between him and the cabinets. He grips the counter for stability when she drags her teeth over the zipper of his slacks.
“Think you can recite another one?” She unfastens his trousers, sliding the material down and taking his boxer briefs with it. She wraps one hand around the base of his cock, lightly gripping his hip with the other.
“Hmm?” He’s concentrating really hard on not rocking his hips forward into her skilled hands, incredibly aware of the counter just behind her head. The absolute last thing he wants to do is accidentally give his girlfriend a concussion.
“Another poem, Killian. You have another one up in that head of yours?” She leans in and licks the tip of his erection, grinning up at him.
His mind scrambles for any other poems he memorized.
“You’re making it incredibly difficult to concentrate, love, but I did always love a challenge” he admits, another moan pulling from him as she wraps her lips around the head and sucks lightly. She pulls back again and looks up at him, her smile shining in her eyes.
“You once promised to read me dirty poetry. You’ve given me one. Surely you have another up there,” she says before leaning forward to kiss a spot below his hip bone. 
“There once was a man from Nantucket,” he starts, but she cuts him off with her laughter.
“No, no. Make it a good one.”
The poem that finally makes its way to his mind is not dirty, but he knows she’ll appreciate it. He clears his throat, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate on the words in his head instead of the love at his feet.
All night I have slept with you / next to the sea, on the island. He begins, and she runs her hands along his thighs. Wild and sweet you were between pleasure and sleep, / between fire and water. She grips his cock again and begins stroking it gently, placing kisses along his hip again as he continues.
Perhaps very late / our dreams joined / at the top or at the bottom, / up above like—
“Fuck, Emma,” he moans, her mouth going from the innocence of kisses to wrapping her lips around him once more and swirling her tongue around the tip.
“Keep going,” she pants out when she breaks away, dipping her head right back in when he starts reciting once more.
Perhaps your dream / drifted from mine / and through the dark sea / was seeking me / as before, / when you did not yet exist, / when without sighting you / I sailed by your side, / and your eyes sought / what now—/ bread, wine, love, and anger—/ I heap upon you / because you are the cup / that was waiting for the gifts of my life.
The hand that isn’t gripping the base of his cock trails up his thigh once more, pausing on his hip for a moment before brushing under the shirt that he’s still wearing and she runs her nails down his chest.
I have slept with you / all night long while / the dark earth spins / with the living and the dead, / and on waking suddenly / in the midst of the shadow / my arm encircled your waist. / Neither night nor sleep / could separate us.
She begins bobbing her head while her hand strokes the rest of his length, and it’s a struggle to remember the last stanza for a moment. He drops his head, opens his eyes again to watch her move and it’s too much. His movements against her during the first poem had already aroused him, and her attentions on him now are pushing him closer to the edge.
Emma moans around his length and his knuckles go white where he’s still gripping the counter. He can feel his release coming and she feels it too, speeds up and doesn’t prolong the torture. When it hits him, he has to brace his feet a little more so he doesn’t collapse. He’s breathing hard when she gracefully stands back up into the cage of his arms. She’s grinning, the cat that got the cream, as she winds her arms around his neck.
“Is that the end?” she asks, fingers threading through his hair. He shakes his head and swallows, wraps his arms around her and pulls her close.
I have slept with you / and on waking, your mouth, / come from your dream, / gave me the taste of earth, / of sea water, of seaweed, / of the depths of your life, / and I received your kiss / moistened by dawn / as if it came to me / from the sea that surrounds us.
He kisses her after saying the last verse, tasting his release still lingering on her tongue, and she hums into the kiss.
“Not bad,” she says when she breaks the kiss. “You may have just swayed my opinion. I’m now pro-poetry.” She’s smiling when she meets his eyes, and he chuckles. He places one more kiss on her forehead before bending to hastily pull his underwear back up, stepping out of his discarded trousers and leaving them on the floor.
“I’ll try a lofty and pretentious one next time,” he promises, remembering their previous discussions about poetry now that she’s brought them up.
“Only if you’re fucking me into the mattress when you do it,” she says off-handedly. He huffs out a laugh and rests his forehead against hers.
“You’ll be the death of me, love.” He hugs her tight to him as he says it and he can feel the laugh vibrate through her.
“But you love me anyways,” she responds, dancing her fingers across his shoulders.
“Aye, until the end of time.” He kisses her again, and she whispers her love for him across his lips.
And when they wind up in bed a short time later, he recites whatever he can think of—limericks, haiku, even a poem by Shel Silverstein—as he fulfills her request. 
When the Save-the-Dates go out a few months later, there is, indeed, an asterisk at the bottom that says “David was right.”
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years
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Dazed and Confused (Part 2)
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Summary: Dean Winchester grew up wanting to be a cop. When he gets kicked out of the police academy on a fluke though, he turns to a life of crime. After breaking up with Dean and seeing him committing a crime in the act, the reader becomes an officer herself and eventually a detective. Four years after that day, the reader is sent undercover to figure out what Dean is up to. Only she has no idea how far Dean is willing to go to keep her from finding out the truth…
Pairing: AU!Dean x reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 3,500ish
Warnings: language, scary situations, violence, murder, etc.
A/N: This series has been on Ao3 only for awhile now and I am finally reposting here as well. It’s not new but it may be new to you. Please enjoy!...
______
It didn’t take long in a town as small as Elk Ridge, Washington to figure out where Dean was staying. There were parts of the place that were laid out as you expected. Suburbia was near the one school. The main street housed almost all of the businesses. The lumber mill where probably most people worked was nestled near the east outskirts of town. There wasn’t a whole lot else there. If you wanted some peace and quiet, it was probably a quaint little place to stay.
Some homes were spread out far and wide though. The feds had set you up in place that made your college dorm room seem like a mansion, located on the west side of town. You had a few neighbors but they were nearly a mile down the road. It had plenty of privacy which was great for investigating but you weren’t a huge fan of the isolation personally.
Dean was to the north, in some old hunting cabin that he was slowly fixing up. At least that’s what Kat, the town gossip, told you. She’d always say hello to Dean when she saw him around and he was cordial back but he kept to himself for the most part. He worked at the mill and frequented the one garage that would special order car parts for him. For the most part though, you had no leads.
“Well,” you said, sitting in your car shortly after lunch, the sound of an Impala driving back towards the mill giving you an idea. “I don’t think you’ll mind if I do a little poking around, Dean.”
You drove to his place in less than ten minutes, seeing nothing in terms of security around the property. You parked your car a ways down the road and doubled back through the tree line and to the home. You went to the backdoor first and found it unlocked, opening straight into a laundry room that smelled of sweaty clothes.
“You really better not be some psychopath, Dean,” you mumbled, walking into his kitchen, finding it sparse but Dean had always liked to keep his spaces clean. You opened a cupboard, finding it crammed full, a smile on your face. “That’s more like it.”
“I told you to stay away,” said Dean, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. You turned your head over your shoulder, Dean right behind you, arms crossed. You stood up, spinning around and finding his hand in your jacket, shoving you through the backdoor.
“Dean, I-”
“I told you to leave me alone,” he said, clenching his one hand, twisting his body back like…
You dodged most of the punch but Dean had some weight behind it, knocking you to the ground regardless as he grazed your cheek. You stared up at him, moving to hit him in the groin when he dodged, getting his feet under your legs and flipping you onto your stomach. His hand caught your jacket collar and started dragging you on the ground, pulling your hood over your face.
“Be quiet,” he grunted, moving one hand away for you in time to see him open a shed door and push you inside.
“Dean!” you shouted, throwing your shoulder against the door the second it shut, the metal not budging. You were barely there more than a minute before you heard the Impala in the background tearing out of there.
Lawrence, Kansas
Two Days Later
“You’re off the case in case no one’s told you yet,” said John in the conference room at the station, sliding a cup of coffee over to you.
“I fucked up. I get it,” you said, staring at your statement for the hundredth time that morning. “I should resign.”
“You should take a leave of absence,” said John, taking the file away. “And go find Dean on your own.”
“Excuse me?” you said, John’s face hard set. “What-”
“He knew you were there. He had to. You checked in before you went to Dean’s place and somehow he randomly went home in the middle of his shift? I think he got tipped off. I don’t think we were ever supposed to catch Dean, kid. Just help give him a bigger rap sheet,” said John, leaning back in his seat. “Assaulted a detective. That’s not something people ignore. It gives him credibility for something bigger.”
“Yeah, and I’m the zodiac killer,” you said, John rolling his eyes. “Why would the feds-”
“Because we’re small town cops and they think we’re dumbasses,” said John. “Maybe we were but think about it. He saw you first on the street you said. An anonymous call came in saying where you were in that shed. He could have hurt you, killed you, but I think he’s the one that made sure you were found.”
“It’s too early in the day for a conspiracy theory, John,” you said, running your hands over your face, reaching for your coffee.
“Did Dean seem like the guy in his file?” asked John.
“Sorry, I didn’t think about it too much after he punched me in the face ,” you growled.
“He could have killed you Y/N,” said John.
“You know what? I’m calling in sick today,” you said, standing up and storming out.
“Y/N,” he said, grabbing your arm in the hall.
“I am done with the Winchester family. Leave me the hell alone.”
“Hey, open up,” Sam said for the tenth time that night, banging on your apartment door relentlessly. You growled as you got up from the couch and flung it open. “Good. You’re home.”
“Go away Sam,” you said, trying to shut the door, Sam simply pushing it back open. You groaned and walked back inside, Sam shutting the door behind him, dropping a bag on your table.
“I got you some of those Italian dessert things you like,” said Sam, leaning over the back of your couch, rubbing your shoulders. “I heard Dad gave you shit at the station today.”
“Dean didn’t kill me so he must be a good guy,” you said, glancing up at Sam, your swollen and bruised cheek on full display. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“You sarcasm is duly noted,” said Sam, moving around and taking a seat next to you. “You got scared again, didn’t you, with dad saying that stuff.”
“Fuck, Sam, is that why you’re here? You think I need a babysitter?” you spat back at him, Sam keeping his face soft.
“Not every Winchester is trying to be an asshole to you this week,” said Sam, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I’m sorry Dean scared you. I’m sorry my dad doesn’t understand that. He wants to believe that Dean is good so badly, he didn’t realize he was willing to let you get hurt along the way.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m taking his advice and taking a leave of absence while I figure out what to do with my life because I sure as shit suck at this job,” you said, grabbing a pillow but Sam ripping it away.
“Don’t hide. And don’t quit either. You like helping people, Y/N,” said Sam.
“I’m scared again, Sam. I can’t be scared and do my job. It doesn’t work that way. All thanks to your stupid jackass of a brother,” you said.
“Get pissed then. Shove it to Dean,” said Sam, your head cocking. “You heard me right. Catch him. He’s wanted now for an actual crime, right? Bring him in.”
“He’s your brother Sam,” you said.
“My brother who hurt us both badly, who did that to your face. You’re like my sister, Y/N. He doesn’t get to push us around and make us feel like crap anymore. We aren’t a pair of little kids,” said Sam.
“Alright,” you said with a sigh, Sam ruffling your hair. “You want to order a pizza and have one of our Dean bitch fests?”
“You read my mind.”
It wasn’t until Sam was passed out on your couch and you were crawling into bed hours later that no matter which way this thing turned out, you knew you had to find Dean. You grabbed your phone, typing out an email to John, requesting your leave of absence while you got your head on straight.
A text popped up as you put the phone down, your eyes glued to it.
Meet me at the place I told you I loved you. 15 minutes.
You swallowed hard, knowing it could be from anyone, could be meant for anyone.
The place you said it back.
“Fuck, Dean,” you said, running your hand through your hair, climbing out of bed. You tossed on jeans and a tee, pulling your jacket and sneakers on, staring at your bedside drawer. “Dammit.”
You opened it up, pulling out your gun and shoving it in the back of your pants, grabbing your phone and walking into your living room quietly. Sam was snoring heavily as you thought about waking him up. The thought quickly disappeared as you went past, slipping out of the apartment and out of the building.
It was cool, the streets quiet at nearly 3 in the morning. You were on edge the whole way down the few blocks to the park, walking as fast as possible towards the only playground in Lawrence. You didn’t spot him which was troubling. There was barely any cover there apart from the enclosed tower by the slide. He was either up there or you were early enough that you could use it for yourself.
A quiet whistle punched a gasp from you, your gun in your hands in the next second. You took a wide sweep, approaching over the bridge you remember falling off of and scraping up your knee as you laughed, climbing up the steps you’d sat on for hours talking with him…
You paused and took a deep breath, raising your gun up as you spun up the last step, staring into the dark tower top.
“I wasn’t sure you’d show,” said Dean, flicking a lighter on, a small light filling the space, showing his hard face, body sat in the corner all in black. “I’m not-”
“Turn around. Hands on your head. Cross your ankles,” you said, Dean staring blankly at you. “Now.”
“Am I being arrested?” he asked with a chuckle, setting the lighter down, crossing his arms.
“Yes. You have the right to remain-”
“I’ve been silent for four years. I’m getting tired of it to be honest,” he said, glancing at the empty spot across from him. “I figured this would be a safe place to meet up...considering you’re on leave now and everything, I don’t have to worry about keeping you up too late for work.”
“How do you-”
“We need to talk,” said Dean, nodding again. “If you want to cuff me to do that-”
“Turn around, hands behind your back,” you said, Dean glaring up but nodding his head. He did as told, his body more muscular than you remembered. You slid a pair of thick zip ties around his wrists, Dean turning back around as you backed up, sliding down into the spot nearby.
“You don’t need to keep pointing that gun at me,” said Dean. “I am cuffed.”
“Considering what happened last time I was with you, I’ll keep the gun out,” you said, Dean’s eyes flickering to your healing cheek, scrunching up his nose.
“Sorry for that,” said Dean. “I can’t be too careful nowadays.”
“Poor you,” you said, Dean straightening his shoulders. “Start talking.”
“How’s Sammy doing? He’s in his third year of law school, right?” asked Dean, your eyes blinking fast. “He’s okay?”
“Why do you give a shit about him?” you asked. “After what you said. It took him two years to tell me what you-”
“He’s my little brother. Of course I give a shit about him. You too. I never stopped,” said Dean, staring at your cheek. “You really don’t know how awful I feel about hitting you.”
“You got two minutes before I drag you down to the station,” you said, Dean leaning his head back against the plastic wall, wearing a sad smile.
“You became a cop. Junior Detective. Top of your class. Perfect scores on your exams. Your arrest record is flawless and you bring in bagels on Fridays from the shop on fourth with the little-”
“Are you a fucking stalker or what, Dean?” you asked, Dean shaking his head.
“It’s how I knew you sent that email to dad,” said Dean, glancing down. “I...I didn’t get kicked out of the academy, Y/N. I...transferred if you want to think of it like that.”
“Transferred to what,” you growled, Dean scrunching up his face.
“Agent Winchester. FBI. Special Undercover Unit. It’s not really common knowledge it exists. We don’t go through the normal training academy. You work undercover so they keep you separate from almost everything. It’s why the FBI, the people I work for, sent you after me,” said Dean. “Well, they needed to build up my credibility but that’s not the point.”
“You’re saying you’re a federal agent,” you said, Dean nodding. “I’m Mary fucking Poppins while we’re at it.”
“How do you think I know shit I shouldn’t Y/N? I can hack into your computer, accounts. Your credit score is 740 by the way,” said Dean, cocking his head.
“You work for the government,” you said.
“I’ve been working one job for four years now, Y/N. I’ve done bad things but I’ve never hurt anyone. But I got a bit of a promotion recently and...somebody on my team is dirty. They’re working with the guy we’re trying to catch and I’m about to throw years of my life away to catch the dirtball. I need help. From someone I can trust,” said Dean.
“They teach officers to know when people are lying you know,” you said, Dean laughing.
“Then you know I’m telling you the truth,” said Dean. “I had to cut myself off from my life and hurting you and Sammy was the one sure fire way to stop you two from coming after me. I’m not asking for forgiveness, Y/N. I just need to bring down this guy and then I’ll leave you alone for the rest of your life.”
“Sam gets fucking nightmares over the shit you said to him about your mom, Dean. You fucked him up. Both of us up,” you said. “Everyone you ever cared about over what? A job?”
“I agreed to do this on one condition and only one fucking condition so you can back the fuck off,” spat back Dean, trying his best to relax. “The guy I’m trying to stop, the guy I’ve been trying to stop for four years? He’s the one that killed our mother. I know I have done a lot of things but she deserves that the guy who killed her goes down. That is why I am doing this.”
“How can I believe any of this, Dean? How?” you asked. “What proof do you have?”
“If you don’t believe me, feel free to shoot me right here and now. Say whatever story you want, no one will care. Hell, dump my body if you want. I threw away everything to try and do the right thing for her, to stop this guy from doing it to someone else. If you think I’m nuts or making it up, go ahead and pull the trigger. I can’t do this on my own. Not when I can’t trust my team. I don’t deserve your help. But I’m begging for it, Y/N,” said Dean. “Just help me catch the son of a bitch.”
“Was it you at the bank four years ago?” you asked, Dean nodding his head. “Why’d you say you’d kill me?”
“I thought you’d understand,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t a threat, Y/N. I knew once I saw you looking at me you’d figure out it was me. I was...don’t you remember that movie? We watched it a million times. The bank heist one. The undercover cop says it to his girlfriend at the bank...it was code that he’d make sure nothing happened to her, she’d be okay.”
“You expected me to remember a stupid movie scene during one of the most frightening moments of my life?” you barked, Dean shrugging. “I didn’t get that message, Dean.”
“I know. I know,” he said. “I couldn’t say, ‘hi honey, long time no see. I’m working this super secret undercover job and I gotta do some bad stuff for a little while but I love you and I’m not going to hurt you and I’m not the bad guy. Bye!’ It’s not how this works.”
“What were you doing in Washington,” you said.
“Testing a theory. I was trying to figure out who on my team is responsible. Nobody showed any tells though so nothing came of it,” he said. “I didn’t know they’d put you on it. Hoped but couldn’t know for sure. You just went through your secondary undercover training so I played the odds on that one.”
You lowered your gun, letting it rest by your side, tucking your knees into your chest.
“It wasn’t your fault either,” he said, your chin resting on your knees, eyes darting over to meet his. “Telling you and Sam those things...that was one of the worst days of my life.”
“Why did we meet here Dean,” you said quietly, Dean smiling.
“This was stop number four on the best date ever. I told you I loved you for the first time over by those swings. You said it back when you remembered how to speak,” he said, staring at his lap. “Figured this place is lucky for me. Less odds of you shooting me on sight.”
“There are so many things I should do right now,” you said, grabbing your gun in one hand, his arm in the other.
“Y/N,” said Dean, a crack in his voice as you pulled him down the stairs and onto the wood chip covered ground below. “Please don’t turn me in. I have to…”
You snipped his zip ties, grabbed them and walked over to a nearby trash can, tossing them inside. Dean was staring slack jawed at you, stuck in place while you wandered over to the swings, taking a seat on one.
“Y/N,” said Dean, standing in front of you while you kicked at the ground.
“You know, Sam and I have this sort of vent session about you sometimes. We basically bitch about everything we hate about you,” you said, Dean gulping. “Every single time, just like the one we had tonight, we always end up talking about good memories and how we hope we’re both so wrong and that you’re still good and something crazy is going on. Now that’s it happening, I can’t believe it’s real.”
“Y/N, I’m-” said Dean, letting out a oomph before he hit the ground, your gaze moving from the ground upwards, Sam panting over Dean’s unconscious body.
“Sam what-”
“He’s a dumbass,” said Sam, bending down, tossing Dean over his shoulder. “We got to move to a secure location.”
“Sam! What is going on?” you asked, Sam nodding for you to follow. “Sam!”
“Dean’s a good guy, Y/N. Loyal to a fault. To a fault, Y/N . He’s getting setup,” said Sam, walking away from the playground, you hot on his tail.
“Sam,” you said, tugging on his arm.
“Dean’s got his facts wrong. He never should have dragged you into this,” said Sam. “But you’re in it now so you better come with us.”
“He had nowhere to turn he said. He-”
“The guy at the FBI Dean is investigating? It’s the guy who killed our mom. He works for them. He’s on the team Dean works on. He’s setting Dean up to take the fall for everything he’s ever done,” said Sam.
“How do you even know that?” you asked, a million more questions flooding your mind.
“Y/N. You weren’t the only one that went into law enforcement when Dean went off the rails,” said Sam, your head cocking, Sam breaking into a soft smile for a brief moment. “Agent Winchester. FBI. Internal Investigations.”
_______
A/N: Read Part 3 here!
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Stark Spangled Forever: One More
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Intro: How much can 2 words actually mean?
Warnings: Language! Smut (NSFW) No under 18s
Pairings: Steve Rogers and Katie Stark (Rogers)
SSF Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist
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April 2026.
“James Anthony Samuel I swear to God you push your sister like that again and there’s no Baseball or Soccer practice for a month!” Steve glared at his son as he picked his 23 month old daughter up from the floor.
“She started it!” the 6 year old met his glare straight back “She smashed up my lego house!”
“Yeah, and you used to smash up our actual house when you were her age.” Steve pointed at him as Aurora buried her face into the crook of his neck, sobbing loudly. Steve gently shushed her as he looked down at Jamie “you’re bigger and stronger than she is, you don’t push her or hurt her in anyway, you got that? If she’s annoying you, you come find me or your ma.” Jamie looked up at his dad for a second, before he looked down, his wrong behaviour understood “Sorry Dad.” “It’s not me you should be apologising to.” Steve said, his voice softening slightly.
Jamie looked up, his blue eyes full of tears and Steve’s heart sank. He hated seeing his kids like this but he knew he had to tell them off when they misbehaved.
“Sorry Rori.” Jamie sniffed.
Rori turned her head to face him leaving a stream of snot and drool hanging from Steve’s shoulder as she eyed up her brother.
“MkayJay…” she sniffed and she leaned forward holding her arms out to him. Steve dropped her to the floor and she toddled across to his open arms and gave her elder brother a hug. Steve smiled as he watched them, despite the fact she bugged the crap out of him Jamie would do anything for his baby sister. Steve knew that.
He also knew that it was only fair Rori got chastised for her part in the argument. So he crouched down in front of them both and he looked at her.
“Aurora, you don’t touch Jamie’s toys unless he says you can ok?” he said to her, firmly but not angrily “You have enough of your own to play with.”
Or destroy as the case may be Her big green eyes, so like her mothers looked back and him and she nodded, looking down at the carpet, suitably chastised, her voice quiet “ok daddy” “Good girl.” He smiled, brushing her brunette hair off her face. When she looked back he was pleased to see both of them were smiling again. Crisis averted, discipline delivered…
“Cookie?” Rori asked hopefully and Steve sighed. He and Katie had been hoping that she would have slightly less of an appetite than her brother but no. The serum was as much a part of her as it was him. He glanced at his watch and seeing it was almost 4:30 pm he knew Katie would be home any time and he had just started their dinner before world war 3 had broken out in the living room. So as far as cookies went he really shouldn’t… “One.” He relented “but you better eat your dinner. And don’t tell momma.” He held out his hand. Aurora slipped her small palm into his and they headed into the kitchen, Jamie following.
There were no more tantrums or arguments that evening, just a small plea from Jamie as he tried desperately  to avoid going to bed at his 9pm weekend curfew      “Just one more please Momma and then I’ll go to bed I swear” he said from his spot sat in between Katie’s legs in front of her on the piano stool. Katie sighed and looked at Steve who leaned in the doorway of the smaller lounge at the back of the house and cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows before he shrugged. “One more…” she relented and Jamie clapped his hands as she placed her fingers onto the keys of the piano in front of her, Jamie lying his hands on the top of his mom’s. He wasn’t interested in learning to play, not really. Baseball and soccer were his things, but he enjoyed this, the alone time with his momma and dad that the two parents tried to ensure each of their younger kids got fairly (Emmy being far too old for any of that ‘mushy shit’ now) Katie’s hands flew over the keys and her soft voice gently filled the room as she sang, Jamie joining in after giving her a little grin when he recognised what she was playing. “I wanna be where the people are I wanna see Wanna see ‘em dancing Walking around on those…”
She stopped playing and looked down at Jamie playfully “What do you call ‘em?” “Feet!” Jamie said, holding his leg up. Steve let out a soft smile at the display of playfulness and affection between his wife and son as Katie laughed and carried on with the song. Eventually they finished and without protest Jamie turned to his mom and placed his arms round her neck. “Night Momma. I love you.” “Love you too baby boy. I’ll be up soon to tuck you in when you’ve finished your story ok?” He jumped down from the bench and headed over to his dad who gently guided him out of the room with a large, gentle hand on the back of his head. As he turned to go he cast a look over his shoulder as Katie stood up, closing the lid on the American Walnut finished Bösendorfer 155 baby grand piano he had bought her for her 40th. She turned to face him, and shyly smiled in the same way she always did when she caught him looking at her the way he was right then, the expression on his face soft, conveying just how much he loved her and it still knocked her off her feet. “You’re beautiful.” He said softly as she brushed past him in the doorway. “Charmer” she smiled as he captured her lips in a soft kiss before giving her ass a friendly squeeze with both his palms before he headed off after Jamie for their usual bed time stories. A father-son routine that Steve hoped Jamie wasn’t gonna grow out of any time soon.
A story about 1920s Gangsters later Steve bid Jamie goodnight and strode over the landing to Rori’s bed room. He picked up the stuffed bear that had fallen out of her toddler bed and, tucking it in next to her, he straightened the covers around his daughter’s chin and dropped a kiss to her head.  “Sweet dreams Princess” he said, standing up and turning off the lamp, flicking the pony night light on. “You know when they’re in bed I actually understand why we had them.” He chuckled gently as he entered the kitchen where Katie was unloading the dishwasher. Katie laughed softly  “They’re good kids really.” “I know.” Steve’s arms circled her waist “What time is Emmy back?” “You told her midnight…so probably about 5 past.” she grinned. “She text me before, she’s fine. Pete took her to a burger joint and they were just about to go into the movies…” “Better not be on the back row” Steve grumbled. “She’s 18 Steve.” Katie laughed before she sighed. “They’re all growing up so fast” “You not fancy one more?” He asked, his nose brushing against her jaw. Katie stilled and turned her head to face him. “I’m 42, still carrying extra pounds from Rori. And trust me when I say after her birth, I have no desire to push a baby out of my vagina ever again” Steve laughed loudly, his head tipping back as he did so. “Just a thought” he said, kissing the side of her neck before he straightened up. “You fancy a glass of wine?” “Getting me drunk will not make me agree to having another baby…” Katie sly eyed him as he opened the wine chiller and pulled out a bottle of Sancerre. Steve rolled his eyes “That’s not what I was trying to do… I thought seeing as they’re asleep, its Friday…we could sit outside by the fire pit and take some us time. Maybe I can make some loving on my baby momma.” She smiled and slipped her arms round his waist, standing on her tip toes to give him a kiss. “Sounds perfect daddy, let me just go tuck Jamie in and I’ll be with you.” *****
June 2026
Steve looked at his wife, simply smiling as she talked. It wasn’t often they got out like they had done before the kids, but tonight they were out for a meal and a few drinks for her birthday. She looked stunning. Her hair was curled loosely, hanging to one side over her right shoulder, her eyes were highlighted even more by the light brown shimmer that sat on her lids and her lips were plump and glossed with a soft, almost neutral pink. It reminded him a lot of how she had looked on her first date. Similar, but yet slightly different. A bit like them really. They weren’t radically different but everything they had been through, seen, done, becoming parents…it had made them evolve in a way but Steve’s heart still burst with pride and lust and love whenever he looked at the woman sat in front of him. Yes she had changed physically over the years. Taught lines of muscle had given way to softer curves over her stomach and thighs, her hips were bigger- not much- but it only served to emphasise her small waist even more. The curve of her ass was more pronounced as was her chest, both of which Steve was more than happy about, especially tonight as they were emphasised even more by the tight black cut off capris she was wearing, low cut shimmering gold top and high heels that made her shapely legs look even more toned. And right now he was imagining them hooked around his shoulders… “Are you even listening to me?” She sat back, glass of crisp white wine in her hand, a teasing smile on her face. He looked beyond gorgeous. Short, dark beard flecked with grey, strands of his short hair also Iightening slightly. His black long sleeved sweater which although loose did nothing to hide his still ridiculously toned physique underneath. He was deep in thought, but relaxed, she could see that from the way he sat. His elbow was leaning on the table, chin resting gently in his hand, his fore and middle fingers making an L shape against his cheek as his thumb gently brushed against the beard underneath his chin. She raised her eyebrows silently requesting an answer and he took a deep breath, and cocked his head slightly more to the left, eyes crinkling even further as he suppressed a chuckle because he had been caught, red handed.  “Sorry baby I was just thinking.” “You were miles away.” She said softly, leaving forward “what’s going on Soldier” He loved how she still called him that. And right then it made him want to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless. He squirmed slightly and picked up his wine glass, leaving back in his chair “Just thinking about you, how lucky I am…how gorgeous you are…” his voice dropped as he arched an eyebrow “and the things I’m intending on doing to you tonight.” They headed to a bar and bumped into Marcus and his brother, Allan, two of the guys who had religiously attended Steve’s support groups pre and post snap. Marcus gleefully told then that his wife, one of the returned, was expecting their first baby, news which both Katie and Steve had greeted with congratulations and a bottle of Don Perignon As they chatted and laughed with their friends, Katie was very aware of how tactile Steve was being. A hand on her back, skimming her ass every now and then, squeezing her hip, soft kisses to her temple and cheek.. it was all driving her wild so after an hour or so in the bar, when he asked if she was ready for home she greeted him with an affirmative nod. He held out her jacket for her, hands skimming the bare skin on her shoulders making her shiver. They bid their friends goodbye and headed out, hand in hand to hail a cab. Katie stole a glance at her husband, the father of her children and a fire lit in her belly. She had never loved anyone as much as she loves him. He wasn’t perfect, but neither was she. But they accepted each others faults as much as they loved each others better traits. He was an affectionate and loving man, both with her and their kids. Firm but fair and never shied away from lavishing affection on any of them. And then, in the dimly lit back seat if that yellow New York cab as it headed over Brooklyn Bridge something stirred in both her heart and her mind. She leaned over to him and gently nuzzled her nose into his neck, breathing in his aftershave. He gave an involuntary shiver and moved his arm around her shoulder as her nose now moved over the short whiskers that adorned his jaw and cheeks up to his ear where she whispered. “One more…” He turned to her, his eyes shining as he looked at her, smiling softly. “You sure?” He asked, barely able to believe it. She placed a soft kiss to his lips and whispered into his mouth. “Yeah, I’m sure.” It was all Steve could do to keep himself from jumping her there and then but somehow his will power held out. Once home, Emmy had simply raised her eyebrows when they had popped their heads into the lounge and told her and Peter not to stay up to late, and then rolled her eyes when Steve had pointedly told Peter the spare room was the 1st door on the right after you climbed the stairs. Closing the door to the lounge, Steve slung his wife over his shoulder causing her to giggle as he carried her upstairs, dropping her gently on her feet in the bedroom when she exclaimed she needed to pee. Steve shrugged off his sweater and was midway into undoing his trousers when she emerged from the bathroom, her pants in her hand, leaving her clad in just that delectable top and underwear. He felt his cock twitch at the sight of her almost naked ass and long legs. As she walked past, heading to the laundry basket in the corner of the room,  Steve looped both arms round her waist and pulled her discarded clothes from her hands, dropping them to the floor. He tugged her back into him, his hands gripping the hem of her top before he pulled it over her head, hands setting on her hips as she rolled her head back against his shoulder so he could lightly graze her skin with his lips.  Her hands gently moved between them as she undid the clasp on her bra and Steve slid the straps down, placing soft kisses to each of her shoulders causing her to shudder as he tossed that to the floor too. His palms flattened on her stomach as her arms slid up and connected round the back of his neck, pushing her chest up and he gave moan as he glanced down and saw her presented to him. One of his large hands crept into the front of her lace briefs, the other up to her chest, gently tweaking and playing with her as he saw fit, lips skating over her neck. “So beautiful…” he whispered and she moaned and writhed in delight at his praise and his actions as he worked her over “such a good girl for me…” Her head fell back even further into him as she let out a soft whimper of his name, his hands upping their pace slightly as she began to buck into his touch. She arched her back, her mouth fell open and then her head rolled forward as she came, knees trembling, her hands pulling at his hair. He held her up in his strong arms and whilst she was still in the after throws of bliss he nipped at her neck, drawing a soft groan from her mouth. “Gonna fuck a baby into you…” he said, lips hot on her ear “fill you up, see you all round with my child again…that what you want?” “Please…” she sighed, “Please put a baby in me, Daddy…”   His hands fell to her hips and he spun her round, lips crashing to hers almost bruisingly before he walked her backwards, her knees colliding with the bed as she fell back wards, Steve crawling over the top of her. His lips skated down from her mouth, to her neck, between the valley of her breasts and to her naval where his nose skimmed across the waistband of her panties. He hooked his fingers into the top and slid them down over her thighs, a hot kiss dropping to her ankle. His beard scratched her soft skin as he nipped his way up her leg, before setting his mouth to her. He licked, sucked, bit as she keened into him, her hands tangling into his hair as she writhed and groaned, trying but failing to keep her noise down. It wasn’t long before he’d gotten her there again and as she fell back, panting slightly he crawled over her, ridding himself of the remainder of his clothes as he did so. His hands placed either side of her head, he dropped his mouth to her ear and kissed just underneath before he whispered “I know you got one more in you baby…” as he pushed into her, the pair of them groaning at the sensation.
And she did. As he thrust into her powerfully, her hands skated up his arms to hi back, nails dragging down his skin. It was an assault on her senses, and as he continued to love her in a way only he could, the heat was rising again and she found herself teetering on the edge.
“That’s my girl…” Steve panted out as she arched her back and came again, this one leaving her utterly shattered. Steve wasn’t far behind her, releasing inside of her before they both collapsed, utterly boneless and melted completely into the bed beneath them. Her hands gently tangled into his hair and he lazily picked his head up and gave her a soft kiss, his nose rubbing up against hers.
“I love you baby girl.” he said softly, lips pressing against hers.
“Love you too…” she whispered into his mouth.
***** February 2027 Katie glanced down at the small, white stick in her hands. She inhaled sharply as she glanced at the result and tears filled her eyes as she stood up from the toilet where she had been sat on the lid, waiting for those precious last few seconds to pass.
Her mind strayed to the conversation they had held on Christmas eve little over 6 weeks prior…
“You know… it’s kind of ironic” Katie sighed as she nestled into Steve further, her head on his chest as the arm round her gently traced shaped on her side, under her jumper. “What is?” He asked, although he had a feeling he knew what was wrong. She sat up and looked at him, her eyes sad. “We’ve been trying for our little one more ow for 6 months. Doing everything right and…” she took a deep breath “maybe I just can’t anymore. I’m sorry Steve” “Hey.” He frowned, shifting so he was looking at her as she blinked, trying to stop the tears from falling “You have nothing to apologise for.” “I just know how much you wanted this and…” “Stop.” He said almost sternly as he gently cupped her face in his hands “we already have 3 beautiful kids. I don’t want you feeling like this” He hated it. Hated the fact he felt like he had backed her into this in a way. She was feeling inadequate and she was anything but. “I wish you’d told me you felt like this sooner.” He said softly, and she shrugged as he pulled her face to meet his in a soft, tender kiss. “One more try.” He rest his forehead against hers, his decision made “One more month and we forget it. I’m not having you feeling like this anymore baby. I love you too much to see you hurting ok?” She nodded and smiled gently, her hand reaching up and her fingers gently scratching through his beard. He closed his eyes and then her lips were on his, pulling him down on top of her on the couch, the movie on the tv completely forgotten as they lost themselves in each other again, moans and sighs filling the softly lit room.   No more tries. “Honey?’ Steve called later that evening, his keys dropping to the table in the hall as he greeted their now, very elderly dog, before he headed into the kitchen. She was sat at the table, eating dinner in between watching Aurora feed herself. Jamie was tucking into his food with gusto as both kids beamed at their daddy who greeted them both in turn. “Hi.” Katie smiled softly at him, taking the kiss he offered on her cheek “dinner is in the oven” “Sorry I’m late.” He said “ the faculty meeting went on a bit longer than I thought and then we got caught discussing the next semester…” “Steve it’s fine.” She assured him, taking a drink of her soda, eyes still on her fiercely independent daughter who probably had more spaghetti round her face than in her stomach. “How was your day son?” He asked once he had grabbed his plate and settled into the seat next to him at the oak table. “Ok.” Jamie shrugged. “Ok?” Katie looked at him “more than ok sweetie, tell your dad what you got in class!” “Oh I got the class weekly gold star for my art” he said, excitement flooding his tone. “No way!” Steve beamed at him, he loved the fact his son had inherited his talent “for the sketch you did of the planets?” Jamie nodded as he smiled. “Proud of you buddy” he said, ruffling his hair as Jamie’s grin at his fathers praise practically split his face in half. A few hours later both kids were in bed, they’d skyped Emmy who was just getting ready to go to a party in one of the dorms, something Steve wasn’t feeling all too comfortable about, and were heading up to bed. Steve was just about to make his way into the bathroom for a shower when Katie stopped him. “I have something to tell you.” She said softly before she opened the drawer at the side of her bed and with a sigh she pulled out the test. Steve felt his heart sink as she turned around and held it out to him. “Baby don’t be upset.” He said softly, as he took it, giving it a cursory glance “we agreed that if it didnt…” He trailed off and looked again. 2 blue lines. 2. “Oh my…shit.. Katie…” he looked up at her, his face shocked before he gave out a splitter of a laugh and grabbed her hips, swinging her up in the air. She laughed as he set her in her feet, giving her a soft kiss “You sure?” He asked, wanting to believe it but not daring to at the same time “Maybe you should do one more to be sure?” With a smirk she turned and reached into the drawer and began to toss test after test on the bed. 10 in total, including the one still in Steve’s hand. “Way ahead of you there soldier” “You’re incredible…” he said, tossing the plastic stick onto the bed and pulling her closer “My fucking incredible…” kiss “amazing…” kiss “ gorgeous” kiss “baby momma…” This time when his lips met hers she wrapped her arms round his neck and held him in place whilst she kissed him hard, deep, passionate before she pulled away, her fingers felt tracing his t-shirt clad chest “you mentioned something about a shower…” Grinning his hands slid under her ass and she laughed as he hauled her up, legs wrapping round his waist as he walked them into the en-suite.
***** August 2027 “One more baby.” Steve urged, his wife’s hand tightly gripping his right, his left brushing her hair back off her face “One more honey, you got this.” With a loud yell and a final, almighty effort she sagged back on the bed as a piercing cry hit their ears. “You did it…” Steve said, his eyes welling up “I’m so proud of you Kitten, you did it…” She laughed through her tears as their baby was placed on her chest, cries giving way to soft wimpers which turned into those familiar nickering noises babies make as their newest addition pressed into his momma, pink and wrinkled, brown hair spattering his head, his eyes the same shape and colour as his fathers, but the Stark nose stood out clearly, just as it did with Jamie. Their little one more, Henry Steven Rogers, Harry for short opened his eyes for the first time to reveal a shock of baby blue and Steve felt his heart swell even more. Out of all their kids he had been the easiest to name. Henry chosen by Steve, Steven picked by Katie, Harry agreed upon by both. There was no 3rd name. They didn’t have one they liked or felt drawn to and besides, in Katie’s eyes he didn’t need one, because his fathers was worth two. Something which had made Steve’s eyes fill with emotion when she had told him that. Harry was measured, weighed and returned to his father wrapped in a soft blue blanket as Steve preened over his latest progeny, another male to carry the Rogers name down the line. Eventually he began to fuss and was handed to his mother for his first feed, Steve settling in their bed, arm round Katie as he watched his son’s cheeks work hungrily. “I love you” he said gently, tilting Katie’s face round to his, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I love you too..” she smiled before they both looked down at their baby as he suckled on his mothers breast, tiny hand shaped in a fist which rest against her exposed skin. Steve gently traced his youngest son’s cheek with his finger, his chest felt like it was going to explode with emotion. After a few hours of being on their own with their baby boy, Katie having been cleaned up and Harry settled and changed and fed again, the peace of their hospital room was shattered. “There really should only be 4 visitors…” Steve heard the nurse say as the door hovered open a few inches. “Oh come on, what’s one more?” Sam’s voice pleaded. She must have acquiesced as the door opened further and their eldest and second eldest shot into the room, followed by Sam and Buck with their now second youngest held on his hip. “Oh Mom!” Emmy gushed, her large brown eyes shining as she looked down at her baby brother in her mothers arms whilst the men were exchanging back slaps and hugs “he’s beautiful” “Course he is” Steve replied, taking Rori and walking her to the bed so she could look at her baby brother “Your mom made him” Katie smiled up at Steve “You had something to do with it…” “The enjoyable bit.” We winked as Emmie moaned
“Gross..” Jamie climbed up onto the bed, his mum gently pushing down the blanket so he could see Harry’s face clearly. The sun was peeking through the blinds, the room was loud and crowded as their older kids aged 19, 7 and 3, and their friends- their brothers- took turns to hold and meet the newest addition to the Rogers family. Steve dropped a kiss to Katie’s head, the pair of them sharing a deliriously happy look.
“Thank you.” Steve said, resting his head against hers. “Thank you for making me the happiest man alive” She smiled, pressed a kiss to his lips before they both turned back to watching the other people in the room, both savouring every goddamned second as they knew full well there wouldn’t’ be another ‘one more'. Tags @the-omni-princess@momobaby227@jtargaryen18@geekofmanythings16@angelofhell-666@marvelfansworld@thewackywriter@cobalt-gear@asgardlover75@jennmurawski13@saiyanprincessswanie@patzammit@navispalace@joannaliceevans-fanficblog@icanfeelastormbrewing@djeniiscorner@ayamenimthiriel@coldmuffinbanditshoe@disneylovingal @madzmillz @sgtjaamesbaarnes@sweater-daddiesdumbdork
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