#well maybe John should just relax more then not my fault

[consult-sherlockholmes]

You know, if you let yourself enjoy things in life, you’d get the same feeling you get when you drug yourself. It would be healthier, and the habit would make John smile more instead of frown more.

I do enjoy things, like solving interesting cases. But what if there is no case on to occupy my mind, what should I enjoy then? Then it's just boredom, and that's what the drugs are for.

#and who says its the same feeling? #what else should i enjoy other than cases? you tell me #everythings just boring #and john does smile at me too sometimes #but his frown lines are really getting more and more #well maybe John should just relax more then not my fault #he goes out anyway the whole time so he doesnt care that much about it #and when he goes out i get bored and then that happens #when john leaves all the time i have nothing against the boredom left #sherlock holmes #sherlock #sherlock roleplay #bbc sherlock #john watson #sherlock bbc #roleplay #sherlock rp #johnlock #sherlock fandom #johnlock roleplay #sherlock and john #sherlockbbc #acd sherlock #sherlock x watson #sherlock x john #holmes #holmes x watson #druglock #shezza

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera - Ch 15 - Wait

More blue and purple text for you as that seemed to work last time :) A dash of The Commander & The Murderbot and a sprinkle of Earth&Sky.

And yes, I laughed longer at that line than I should have.

(Previous… Prologue - Stars are Only Visible in Darkness, Estera - 1 - Colour, 2 - Dinosaur, 3 - Shoes, 4 - Thunderbird, 5 - Lesson, 6 - Safe, 7 - Gull, 8 - Deliver, 9 - Coffee, 10 - Flight, 11 - Run, 12 - Fall, 13 - Trying, 14 - Hide)

(Sofasurf’s Recrudescence which is the foundation for all of this)

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Hey, I’m up your way for a meeting next week. Maybe we could catch up? S

Oh I’m sorry, I’m taking the sleeper train to see my sister and her family.

Treviso, right? Hope you have a wonderful time!

Well remembered! I’m sorry to miss you, really bad timing.

I’m sorry!

Stop apologising! Have a Tiramisu for me 😋

Will do!

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Scott double-checked the date then closed the app and leaned on the balcony, watching the gulls land on Mateo to roost. His forehead creased with worry.

“EOS, could you look up the term dates for Estera’s school for me?”

“The current term ends in 4 weeks. Would you like the dates of the holidays and teacher training days for the next 6 years?”

“No, that’ll do. Thanks EOS.”

“I have also established that Estera Hermaszewska is marked as on sick leave and a substitute teacher has been engaged for 3 weeks starting two days ago.”

“EOS! No! You can’t just… I shouldn’t know that!”

“I thought you would want to know because you are displaying concern for her well-being. The school does not have particularly robust security on its staff records. There is a wealth of information here.”

“Stop. EOS. Please stop looking.”

“I have closed the connection. I am sorry, Scott Tracy, I did not intend to cause you distress. John will be displeased.”

Scott paused. There was a lot to unpack there, but he’d return to it later.

“I should have been more clear, it’s my fault. In future, when I ask you to find something out please would you limit your search to publicly available information unless I specifically ask otherwise?”

“Certainly. May I ask why you wish to restrict your knowledge about your friend’s welfare?”

Scott twitched slightly. “I don’t want to, exactly, but… has John discussed the concept of privacy with you?”

“He has explained we need to protect certain types of data. But I was only telling you and you are her friend.”

“Not really EOS, we barely know each other.” Another pause as he pondered how to explain. “But even if we were very good friends… part of human relationships is finding out about each other FROM each other. I should only know what she wants to tell me. To do otherwise is an invasion of privacy and would just make things… strange.”

“John knows a great deal of information about Estera Hermaszewska and they are not friends.”

Scott sighed. “John is a special case.”

“He has also informed Virgil Tracy, Tanusha Kyrano and Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward.”

“He has, has he?”

“Yes. Perhaps this is a fact he did not intend me to share with you at this time.”

“I suspect so EOS. But thank you for telling me.”

Scott headed indoors, suddenly deeply weary. Sleep was unlikely until he’d figured this one out though, so he turned his back on his own bedroom and made his way to his brother’s studio.

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His big brother had several distinct ways of knocking on his door. All were the same rhythm - Tap-te-TAP-tap - but the volume and speed would give Virgil advanced notice of what kind of mood he was in and a split second to prepare. Right now Scott was… unsure, worried about something. He made sure to add as much warmth and encouragement to his “come in Scotty” as he could.

“You always know it’s me.”

“Yep, it’s all the spy cameras I have set up… I’m kidding, Scott.” The brotherly eyebrows relaxed back into merely confused mode. “What’s up?”

“Can’t I just want to hang out?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. Scott sighed.

“I have a bit of a…. Quandary.”

He watched his brother’s face as he explained. When he wasn’t deliberately shutting himself down, or focusing on his board meeting poker face, Scott was an open book. To Virgil at least. His expression and the intonation of his voice could provide more detail than the words did.

“It sounds like you made it clear to EOS, it shouldn’t happen again?”

“But that’s not the point. I know now. She’s sick, Virg, and I’m sure it’s something to do with… well… the same as I was. Because of meeting me. What if I made her dig all that stuff up but she doesn’t have a… a you to keep her sane while she figures it out?”

Scott paced, gesticulating wildly, and Virgil caught his arm as he passed, pulling him in for a hug. His brother was trembling with pent up energy.

“Well first off, well done for not leaping in a plane and rushing to try to fix her.”

His brother let out an explosive laugh. “You know me so well.” A pause, then more quietly “I really want to. But I know that would be weird and counter-productive. I just feel so…” he sagged “Responsible. I can’t just ignore this. I can’t just abandon her!”

“I don’t think you have to.” He pulled back a little to look up into his brother’s face. “Scott, when you were struggling but not ready to talk to us, what helped?”

“Hugs.”

Virgil squeezed him a little tighter. “What else?”

Scott broke away to recommence the pacing, palming the miniature rubix cube Virgil kept handy for him on a shelf and rattling through the algorithm to solve it. Reaching the far end of the room he spun on his heel and met Virgil’s eye.

“Two things I think. Distraction. Things to help me stay grounded. And then… knowing you were there if and when I did want to talk… but you weren’t going to force me.”

Virgil nodded.

“Can you do the same for her?”

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Why are elevator jokes so good?

Hi! Err, are they?

Because they work on so many levels!

…

That was awful.

Seriously, I hear better from the 6 year olds.

Aww, that was one of my best.

That does not bode well.

I am deeply wounded. 😭

Oops 🤣

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Scott shed his overcoat and face planted on to the hotel bed, well aware of the expression the overwrought Italian designer of his suit would sport if he could see such abuse. Wrinkles be damned. The way that board meeting had gone it was a miracle he’d not wrecked this latest one with blood stains. Again.

His comm pinged with a picture message. Unusual… he swiped it open.

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Here is your Tiramisu. I’m afraid I ate it. I would apologise but you told me to stop doing that. Bad luck! Estera

Excellent work! 😋

Ah, now I’m hungry and have no dessert 😭

Oops 😂

You’re on the espressos?

You can’t drink cappuccino after 11am here. They’ll arrest you.

Good intel, I’ll bear that in mind next time I visit.

Have you been to Italy a lot?

Outside of rescues? No, actually! There’s no TI branch there and I guess we don’t get a lot of time to travel for pleasure.

Oh you should, it’s an incredible country.

Where would you recommend I start?

I’ll make you a list.

I look forward to it.

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Scott smiled to himself. Then changed into his civvies, adding a baseball cap and his signature aviators and ventured outside.

Surely somewhere in London sold tiramisu…

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On the train back. Finished my book already but still 9 hours to go!

Thunderbird One would do it in 3 minutes…

You just did the maths didn’t you?

Yep.

I’m guessing no restaurant carriage though? Whereas I am now going to go sit and enjoy the view with a coffee and some kind of delicious pastry.

… TB One does lack pastries.

I bet your brother has plenty of room for pastries in Two… 😈

Be right back.

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Scott, did Thunderbird One just fly over my train?

… maybe 😁

?????

Alan needed to get some more flight hours…

And I wanted pastries.

So we are in Paris getting takeaway.

The fuel for those things is cheap right?

Sure.

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Back at school today - the kids say hi :) I don’t know why they think I have some kind of hotline to the head of International Rescue but they won’t be dissuaded.

Hi right back atcha kids 👋

Atcha? What kind of a word is that?

An… American… one?

I don’t think it’s valid here.

Let me try again.

Good afternoon, esteemed juvenile citizens. I extend my compliments for your respective health and happiness.

You are no longer allowed to talk to the children 😏

Aw shucks 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸

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#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #Estera #tb estera #idontknowreallywhy fanfic

[tails89]

“If we both stick to the story, he can’t prove anything,” Stiles hisses as the police cruiser pulls in behind their car. “You got it?”

Derek nods, his hands tightening on the steering wheel as he watches the officer walk towards them in the rearview mirror.

“This is all your fault,” he says, winding his window down. “I don’t know why you won’t just tell him. With everything that’s happened, why are you so set on keeping this a secret?”

“You know why.” Stiles twists in his seat to face Derek. “He would freak out if he knew.”

“I don’t think he would.”

“He totally would!” Stiles argues. “Remember when you told me? It’ll be like that… but with like, more guns… and handcuffs—and not in the kinky way.”

“Really Stiles?” Derek asks, before the officer steps up to the door.

“Evening boys.”

Derek catches an audible gulp from beside him, before Stiles answers, leaning across the centre console. “Dad, hey, fancy seeing you out here…”

“Yeah, real strange,” John agrees, leaning forward with one arm propped on the open window. “You can only imagine my surprise to see you two drive past at-”  he glances down at his watch. “-3am.”

“Yup,” Stiles says, popping the ‘p’. “So, so strange. Anyway, nothing to see here, just, y’know, heading on home.”

“Interesting.” John turns his calculating stare on Derek. The werewolf focuses on relaxing, pasting what he hopes is a look of nonchalance across his face. “So, where you boys been tonight?”

Derek can feel a bead of sweat drip down the back of his neck under the Sheriff’s intense scrutiny.

“We should tell him,” he says, turning to Stiles, wanting out of this situation.

“We will do no such thing,” Stiles hisses back at him.

“Kid-” John starts, tone laced with exasperation.

“Dad-” Stiles parrots back at him.

“Just tell me what’s going-”

“Stiles was at my place,” Derek blurts out, no longer able to just sit in silence. “We’re dating.”

John and Stiles both gape at him, mouths hanging in twin expressions of surprise.

“Oh,” John is the first to recover. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Stiles asks. “Okay? Is that it? Really dad? Your only child is sexing it up with your newest deputy and all you’ve got is ‘okay’?”

And just like that, Derek wants to sink down and disappear into his seat. Forever. This was not how he wanted to have this conversation with his (hopefully) future father-in-law.

“Jesus Stiles.” John drags his hand down his face. “Why are you acting like this is some big secret?” He asks, flapping a hand at them. “Every time you come home from school you practically live at the loft and Derek disappears up to Berkeley anytime he has a day off. You’re not subtle—either of you.”

“You- we-” Stiles splutters from the passenger seat.

“You’re an adult, I don’t care who you’re ‘sexing up’ as long as you’re both being safe. I just saw the car and thought maybe something supernatural was up.”

“Yeah, well, I think you almost gave Der a heart attack,” Stiles says. “So next time can you just send a text?”

“Next time-” John echoes his son’s tone perfectly, “-can you let me know you’re in town?”

“You were working! I didn’t think we’d run into you,” Stiles insists, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’ll come ‘round later when you get off shift, okay?”

“Okay, kid. You too Derek.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright then,” John taps the car door twice with the flat of his hand. “You two have fun... sexing it up.” He turns to walk back to his cruiser.

“Your whole family sucks. I’m never going to hear the end of this on Monday,” Derek grumbles, turning the ignition. “We should have just stayed at my place.”

“I was hungry.” Stiles whines. “My tummy has the rumbles that only a 3am McFlurry can satisfy. We’re still going to McDonald’s yeah?”

Derek just gives him a look and puts the car into gear. “You are the worst,” he says, easing the car away from the curb. “I don’t like you.”

“You like me so much,” Stiles grins, turning to face Derek as he drives. “Feeling’s mutual big guy.”

Send me a prompt

#sterek #teen wolf #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #eternal sterek #teenwolffanfic

[lottiebagleywritesobx]

Tequila confessions

JJ lets out a sigh at the sight of his best friend. He'd been late to the kegger and more than ready to relax and have fun with his friends, he knew almost immediately that his plans were going to be very different.

"JAIII," She's slurring as she shouts, stumbling a little over nothing as she approaches him.

"Hey sunshine," He coos lightly, tucking her into his side as he points Kie a sharp glare.

She holds her hands up in surrender "That girl is crazy," Kie defends, causing the girl to let out a gasp, turning to fight back but seemingly forgetting she was mad in the first place when she actually sees Kie, instead moving to go and hug her friend, she's kept in place though by JJ's arm around her shoulder.

"Seriously Kie, I asked you to keep an eye out for her for like a couple hours cause I had work," JJ complains, it was no secret amongst the pogues that she couldn't hold her drinks, she could casually drink on the boat all day but the minute she was in a party setting she would wind up pissed.

"It's not my fault girls from school wanted to do tequila shots and-"

"Shit! You know she voms on tequila," JJ grumbles

"No, we don't all know every little thing about her," Kie defends, JJ rolls his eyes, glancing to see if she had realised what Kiara meant, she seemed to be entertaining herself by playing with the ends of his fingers that hang around her shoulder. "C'mon, I'll get you a beer," Kie offers.

JJ sighs, he does want to drink with his friends, smoke a bit too. It had been a long day and he needed to relax. He knows though that if his best friend has done tequila shots she'll be feeling ill within minutes and he wants to be able to look after her properly.

"I should probably skip, get this one home," He admits, squeezing the girl in his arms a little, seemingly drawing her attention back to him.

"I'm not going home," She argues, still slurring

"Sunshine, you gotta. You'll be feeling poorly soon and-"

He cuts himself off when she makes a dash for it. Leaving his tight grip and sprinting across the beach to John B who reaches out immediately to steady her and stop her from falling.

"Fuck it. Where's the beer Kie?" JJ decides.

He settles at the campfire, drinking slowly so as to stay sober and look after her when she inevitably needs him. A group of touron girls are talking to him, pawing for attention and he's half listening, his eyes are zoned in on her though.

He watched as she danced with Sarah.

He watched as she played beer pong with some kook boys, not sure if he was mad because she was already drunk enough or because they all kept trying to touch her. He figured it's probably the latter.

He watched as she splashed Pope in the shallow water.

Unable to help himself, a large grin spreads across his face as he watches her approach him. She's reaching out and making grabby hands at him, confidently shoving her way through the girls surrounding him to sit next to him. She doesn't need to worry about it, he's always dropped everything to be with her.

She sits silently, head cocked to the side, eyeing JJ with great concentration  despite her glassy eyes. He takes the moment to look at her, glowing in the light from the fire and biting her bottom lip slightly, she always does when she's focused.

"Your face is stupid but I like it. I like your stupid...it's so...I like it. Can I touch it?"

"Course you can sunshine," He's grinning widely and can practically feel himself melting when her hand reaches out, stroking his cheek gently.

"JJ can I tell you something?" She's trying to whisper but her voice is no where near quiet, hand still cupping his face.

"You can tell me anything," He reassures, hand going to her knee to rub comforting circles on the skin

"I feel icky,"

"You wanna leave?" He asks, his voice soft

"I wanna be with you,"

"Well obviously I'm leaving with you, christ sunshine, wasn't just gonna let you wander off home all alone,"

"But you just got here and then I'll ruin your night-" He can tell she's about to ramble so he decides to cut it off quickly

"I'd rather be with you anyway. Alright?" He speaks so softly that if anyone who knew him and hadn't seen him around her before were to see they'd struggle to believe it was him at all.

**

JJ prides himself on how attentive he is to her needs. No matter the situation he knows what she wants.

Tonight is no different, she's leaning over the toilet of the chateau, JJ is standing behind her rubbing her back comfortingly as he holds her hair back.

She pulls away from the toilet, her face a little sweaty and immediately JJ is passing her a glass of water. She pats the floor next to her and JJ immediately sits. "I wanna give you something," She sighs, her head falling to JJ's shoulder as she hiccups a little

"What is it?" He asks, hand once again finding it's home on her knee, his thumb rubbing gently

"My heart. I wanna give you my heart. How do I do it?" She springs up off his shoulder again, looking at him intensely

"Might take a surgery, we'll leave that one for tomorrow yeah?" He questions gently. He knows he can't let himself, even for a second, think she means what's she's saying. She's intoxicated and she's a sappy drunk and he can't set himself up for that kind of heart break.

"Tomorrow though?"

"Yeah sunshine," He nods.

"You're my best friend JJ, but don't tell Kie," She whispers, although it's still not quiet

"You're mine. But don't tell John B," He hums in response, watching her with a wide smile as she grins, rocking back and forth a little.

"I really love you," She admits, her eyes almost look scared

"I really love you too,"

"No like I really love you. Like I wanna have your babies and be with you all the time kinda love you,"

"You are drunk. You don't know what you're saying," He's more telling himself than her.

"NO!" She shouts, gasping dramatically as though she's offended. "I'm not drunk. If I was drunk could I do this?"

He sits silently for a few seconds, watching as she seems to glare at him instensly.

"What is it you are doing sunshine?" He questions

"I-I'm sending you my love. Did you not get it?" She almost looks like she's about to cry and JJ acts quickly, pulling her into a tight hug. "Can we sleep now blondie?"

"Of course sunshine," He agrees immediately.  He lifts her from the floor with ease, placing her onto the bed in the room that might as well belong to him. He makes her down another water, helping her out of her jean shorts and crop top and helping her into one of his tshirts. Passing her a cotton pad with her makeup remover on.

She snuggles into the mattress pulling the duvet up to just under her eyes as she watches JJ get ready for bed. He turns around to face her "Thought you were taking your makeup off sweetheart?"

"No. I want cuddles,"

"You can have cuddles after you take your make up off," he instructs, she sighs dramatically but rubs at her face with the cotton pad.

He climbs into bed next to her, opening his arms and immediately she snuggles into them, tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around him, he holds her close, rubbing her back gently.  

"I really am in love with you JJ,"

"Tell me again after you've slept and I'll be yours. Okay sunshine?"

"Okay," She agrees, smiling when she feels him press a kiss to the top of her head "You'll say it back though, right?" She questions, her voice slowly becoming more drowsy

"I promise,"

**

JJ wakes up to see her still in his arms. She's awake though, staring at him from his chest.

"Are you watching me sleep like a creeper?"

"Are you gonna say it?" She enquires immediately,  he doesn't like the way his heart swells, maybe she meant it? maybe it wasn't just her drunk ramblings?

"You need to learn how to hack a drink," He scolds lightly

"Not that JJ,"

"I'm in love with you," He speaks quietly, she jumps immediately, sitting up to straddle him and pulling him up with her.

"I wanna kiss you,"

"Then kiss me," He grins, he doesn't think he's ever been happier.

"I haven't brushed my teeth,"

"I don't care," He laughs a little and she giggles

"I do. C'mon," She pulls him from the bed to follow her.

They brush their teeth, JJ's arms wrapped around her waist as they do so and the second both their toothbrushes are back in the little holder his lips are on hers.

He kisses gently, like he's been waiting for this his whole life and he wants to savour every last second. She figures that maybe he has been.

"JJ, did I mention having your kids last night?" She whispers, foreheads pressed together.

"Yeah. You are never living it down sunshine," He's beaming as she giggles, leaning up to press her lips back to his.

#jj maybank #jj #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #obx fic #obx #jj maybank fic

[missymurphy1985]

The Writer (part4)

Warnings - Angst

Request? Yep

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

You woke alone - checking the clock on the dressing table you darted out of bed. 6:45am, Tommy said his driver would be taking you home at 7. You rushed as quickly as your sore thighs would allow you back to your bedroom so no one spotted you run across the landing completely naked.

Pulling your clothes on, gathering your notepads and stuffing them in the small bag you had brought, you turned and nearly jumped out of your skin as a young woman of maybe 22/23 stood in the doorway. You vaguely recognised her as one of the maids who made your tea the night before. She had a strange look in her eyes that made you feel uneasy.

"I believe Mr Shelby has arranged a car for me this morning?" You asked, ignoring her gaze.

"He has. It's outside. He gave me this to pass onto you." She smiled wryly, handing you the envelope. You thanked her, and left the room heading down to the waiting car.

You opened the envelope once you were en route. Two £1 notes fell out, alongside a letter. Your heart froze in your chest as you read it, feeling like a complete fool.

Ms. Y/L/N,

Since you enjoyed being treated as a two-bob whore, I suppose it's only fitting I pay you for your services.

The article can proceed, but I'd prefer if someone with more professionalism could attend next time.

Yours,

T. Shelby

The tears were falling from your eyes as you pulled up outside your apartment. How could you have been so stupid... A millionaire like him shacking up with you? A penniless widow with more debt than you cared to admit to.. trying to make a name for yourself in a man's world. He clearly thought you were nothing more than a whore. You left the money on the back seat and exited the car, your heart shattered as you unlocked your door and stepped inside.

************************************************************

"So how did it go?" David asked as you sat opposite him in his office an hour later.

"Honestly? The interview was difficult. He wouldn't reveal much about himself."

"Laura said you didn't come home last night." Laura was your roommate, she was also dating David. You should have known she'd tell him. He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking.

"The storm." You voice caught in your throat, emotions threatening to spill over. David quickly stood and closed the office door, kneeling in front of you.

"What happened Y/n? Come on, don't cry..." You fell into your big brother's arms and you let yourself cry. The only man you allowed to see you like this. You told him about the night before, in not as much detail, and then the note this morning.

"Fucking asshole... I never should have sent you to him!! This is all my fault... Oh sis I'm so fucking sorry, come here...." He held you tight. "Go home. Run a bath. I'll send Laura over with a bottle of wine. Just get him out of your head. God I sent you right into his filthy little hands didn't I..."

"David this isn't your fault. I wanted it as much as he did okay? He was just so different last night.. he asked me to stay, he put me into his bed, he held me.. then that note. And the money.. the fucking money?! Like a fucking whore!"

"Y/n go home. That's an order. You're not to go back again. I'll send Frank, he can do the article."

"No you won't! This is MY story and I will be the one to tell it! That halfwit doesn't even know which end of the pen to use!"

"He's already demanded someone else, you saw it for yourself. Now go home, I'll let Laura know you're on your way."

************************************************************

It was a week later that you finally felt strong enough to leave the house. Your confidence at an all time low, your heart completely broken, but your cupboards were empty as your soul felt and Laura was away for a few days with family back in Scotland. You had no choice but to face it and go to the store in the next town. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you took a deep breath and headed out.

Waiting in line, you felt a tap on your shoulder. A dark haired woman with hard but kind eyes stood behind you.

"Are you Y/n?" She asked. You nodded, before quickly realising who she was.

"Polly Gray?" You gasped, and she nodded, pulling you into a huge hug.

"Oh y/n... It's been so long!! My goodness how you've grown!!!" You hugged her back, she'd always been so kind to you as a child knocking about with John. She was the only member of the family that knew you were close to him.

"Come for a drink! The Garrison is only down the street!" She grinned, as you paid for your groceries. You were about to answer before she linked arms with you and was almost frog marching you down the road. To be honest, you didn't mind. She clearly didn't know about your liaison with her nephew a week earlier, and a drink sounded very appealing.

Sitting in the small side room as she went to the bar, you felt yourself relax. She doesn't know, you won't tell her, it's one drink, no harm done.

"Perks of Arthur owning the pub - Peaky women get served at the bar without question!" She grinned, placing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses on the table in front of you. So much of one drink....

You both knocked the first one back quickly, before sipping your second a little slower. She enquired about your life up to now, squeezing your hand gently as you told her about Jack and his death. She smiled as you told her about your work, confessing to her your pen name in the Herald which made her howl with laughter.

"They're always my favourite articles in that newspaper!! I always felt they had a woman's touch to them, so well written! If only you could use your own name eh? Bloody men, ruin everything for us women."

"Yes. Yes they do." You eyes glanced out the window and she noticed them misting up slightly.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, nothing, I'm fine. Just being silly."

"There's a man, isn't there? A new man?"

"Pol..."

"And he's hurt you, hasn't he? I'll rip his balls off... Let me guess, fucked you and fucked you off?"

"Pol, it's fine honestly."

"Your eyes tell me it's not fine y/n."

"It was a silly, drunken mistake. On both parts. It won't happen again."

"No one hurts my y/n and gets away with it. Name." Her voice was forceful now. She was angry, you could see it in her eyes.

"Polly please! It was a one night thing that shouldn't have happened in the first place! Just let it go, okay?"

"Y/n, when my daughter was taken away, you were closest thing I had left. I was heartbroken when you moved away. I can't allow some nasty little shit to break your heart after what you've been through!"

Your resolve was breaking, your patience was being tested, and your emotions were about to spill over, when the door to the room opened and your heart stopped.

"Tommy!!! Look who I found in the store down the street!" Polly exclaimed, and his blue eyes met your watery ones. He smiled, you scowled. Polly looked between the two of you, and you could honestly have heard a pin drop. You gathered your shopping up and stood up, still glaring at Tommy who never took his eyes from yours. You scoffed at him, thanked Polly for the drink, and hurried out the room.

"Oh Thomas... Thomas Shelby you have some fucking explaining to do!" You heard Polly shout from behind you but you didn't stick around to hear anymore.

#tommy shelby x smut #tommy x y/n #cillian x fem!reader #cillian smut #cillian murphy x smut #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader

[its-deputy-caleb]

would u possibly do some NSFW morbell? where they're up in colter ( i loved ur original morbell post on them ) pls do more as i love ur blog 💛

this is an absolute mess oml i literally have no idea how to write anything smutty but here we go i guess. I love this pair but i kinda went off topic and centred this on a praise kink for micah. ANYWAY this is probably terrible since i'm melting, its literally 40 degrees and the aircon is broken so its unedited af and i wont look at it again until i have a cold drink. but pls enjoy some morbell <333

------------------------------------

‘Cold up in Colter’

Fuck, what a mess Blackwater had been. The Pinkertons were on them faster than ever and they found themselves fleeing from a blood bath.

That was almost three days ago and Micah hadn’t had an ounce of sleep. He’d been sent out with John to scout ahead, having found a homestead which ended up burning at the hand of O’Driscoll’s. Okay maybe house burning down was his fault but he tends to make stupid decisions when he’s had little to know sleep. And it was so fucking cold.

That didn’t stop heat rising to his face when he felt Arthur’s hands on his shoulder, pushing him back with a roughness he could only wish for in another way. Damn Arthur Morgan and his ability to have Micah curling in on himself and blushing like a virgin at the mere thought of a hand on his shoulder.

He should hate Arthur, really the two are nothing more than rivals, competing for the spot of Dutch Van Der Linde’s right hand. At the beginning, almost six months ago now, Micah couldn’t stand the sight of the man but somehow that anger tapered off into something more akin to admiration and that admiration slowly turned to desire.

He’ll never admit to how badly he wants Arthur but he won’t deny however that he’s pushed the man’s buttons more than once just to have an interaction with him. All he had to do start a silly argument over camp earnings or a bet at five finger fillet to have the man shaking him by the collar and threatening to break his nose.

It almost always ended with Micah sneaking off into the woods with half a bottle of whiskey and his pants bunched around his ankles as he thought of the way Arthur roughed him up by his shirt collar. Fuck he was pathetic sometimes.

There were other occasions where the two had actually managed to get along and that’s what pissed Micah off more than any threats of violence. Arthur just had to go and bring him a beer as he grabbed one for himself, letting their fingers touch accidentally. Or he went and offered him a seat by the fireplace where they ended up much to close for his comfort. Damn Arthur for always leaving him short of breath with a hole in his heart.

Despite what Micah did to impress Dutch, Arthur was still the camp’s favourite by a mile and he never failed to outcompete him in the eyes of the gang. Micah never minded much, not looking for anyone’s approval, but the thought of proving himself to Arthur, of being worthy of his praise is enough to have his wild side reined in.

Naturally that didn’t stop Micah from losing it from time to time and wasn’t surprised when his jealousy shot up again as Miss Grimshaw announced Arthur got his own cabin while he shared with the rest of the fellers. And he’d be damned if he had to share a room with Williamson who didn’t stop snoring.

That’s why he found himself huddled in the makeshift stables, choosing instead to wrap himself in his coat and down a bottle of whiskey to wait the night out. He cold planks he was sitting on offered little comfort and the draft in the room had his lip shaking. But at least he wouldn’t have anyone in his hair and he’d be left alone, just the way he liked it.

Of course that didn’t last long when the cranky wooden door was barged open, spooking some of the horses in the opposite end of the room. A broad figure entered the room, blocking most of the door way but that didn’t stop to whoosh of cold air flood into the room, draining even more colour from his face.

It wasn’t until the door was closed and the man stepped closer when he realised it was Arthur.

“Micah? What the hell are you doing in here?”

Arthur sounded surprised, with only a hint of concern in his voice.

“Sleepin’— what the hell ya doing here Morgan?”

There wasn’t much of a response from Arthur, only a quiet noise which was barely heard over the whistle of the wind between the planks. He walked over to the horses, checking over them and ensuring none of them were freezing to death. Micah watched in silence, scared to disturb the man as he patted along Taima’s neck.

It wasn’t until after Arthur had checked over all the horses did he turn his attention to Micah.

Micah watched as Arthur’s gloved hand extended out and offered itself to him, he hesitated before taking before taking it and being pulled to his feet. Arthur’s hand draped over his shoulder which he didn’t realise had shaking in an effort to keep warm, having drunk the remaining whiskey from the bottle.

“Common now, yer gonna freeze in here alone.”

Micah dug his heels into the ground, not allowing Arthur to pull him any further to the door as he tried to hold his voice steady. He’d be damned if he ever let Arthur know just how much he affected him.

“I ain’t sharing a bunk with Williams—“

Arthur tutted, pulling Micah out the door as he pushed him towards his cabin in the snow storm.

“Quit yer yapping, you’re sharing with me and I ain’t having any more folk die tonight. Now let’s go.���

Arthur didn’t utter another word until they were well and truely in his room, wrapped in a blanket that was barely big enough for the two of them. The bed wasn’t much bigger, having been made for one person which was evident by Arthur pressing against Micah’s back in efforts for them to fit. The only thing that kept them apart was the fabric of their jackets, otherwise Arthur would probably hear Micah’s heartbeat which was beating much to fast for his liking.

The uncomfortable silence was broken when Micah cursed under his breath which caused his teeth to chatter and Arthur spoke up.

“Yer still cold, c'mere”

Micah’s breath fell short as Arthur’s hands slid under his coat, resting his hands on his tummy to use his body heat as a source of warmth. In doing so Arthur had moved even closer, ensuring Micah’s back was flush against his chest.

Despite that Micah wanted to protest, to go straight to his default of arguing he couldn’t help but feel as he began to warm up and he slowly relaxed under his hands.

A blush rose high on his cheeks as Arthur also relaxed into their embrace, accidentally letting his hands drift lower until he felt the hard press of Micah’s straining erection against his knuckle.

Micah instantly sucked in a breath, panicking and trying to push his way out of Arthur’s hold.

“Shit Arthur I—“

Micah froze as Arthur gently pulled him back to the bed and rubbed slow circles along his stomach.

“S’alright Micah, I’m not mad…”

Arthur held him close, letting him relax before talking again before he whispered right into the shell of his ear.

“…This what you want? Is this why you’re always staring at me from across camp, why yer always picking fights and asking me to robberies?”

A high pitched noise left Micah as he shivered, feeling Arthur’s hot breath against his ear. His blush deepened as he pushed back slightly into him, whimpering at the feel of Arthur’s own erection pressed against his ass.

Fuck it, he thought as heat pooled in his abdomen and he finally allowed himself to have the one thing he’d been craving for months. He nodded frantically, grinding back onto Arthur’s clothed dick and squirming in his grip.

“Relax boy, gonna give you everything you’ve been waiting for— just be good and you’ll get it”

Micah nodded in agreement, a needy, desperate sound leaving him at the promise of praise. He wanted, no needed to be praised by the man so badly that he’d do anything for an ounce of it from the man.

“Oh god Arthur! I need it, need you. Fuck I can be good I promise.”

He knew he was probably being too loud but apart of him didn’t have it in him to care. He moaned softly as Arthur moved him to roll onto his back, towering over him but ensuring they were still kept under the blanket.

Arthur spent the next ten minutes undressing him without exposing much of his skin to the cold. He unbuttoned the lower buttons of his leather jacket, enough for Arthur to work his fly down and pull one pant leg off. He whined pitifully, grabbing at the lapels of Arthur’s coat in a silent plea for him to undress him properly.

Micah mentally scolded himself at just how desperate he was for Arthur to rip his clothes off and fuck him like a bitch in heat but he knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. Arthur however caught on pretty quickly to what he wanted, it seemed the man knew just what made him tick.

“I know sweetheart, once we’re well and truly outta here I’ll get us a room and we can do this properly.”

Micah’s eyes beamed at the thought of Arthur taking him to a hotel in the future, panting as his mind raced with images of Morgan making him fall apart on his cock for hours on end.

While Micah was busy in his mind, Arthur took the opportunity to retrieve the gun oil from his satchel. It certainly wasn’t the best option but it was their only choice with their limited supplies.

Arthur draped himself back over Micah’s body, kissing at his jaw and nibbling as he coated his fingers. The air was cold, only making the oil feel colder as he slowly dipped his index finger past Micah’s rim.

A devilish grin came to Arthur’s face as he heard Micah sigh and take his finger easily, deciding to work his way up to two sooner than he was expecting.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time haven’t you? I saw you once, bout a week ago. Head down, ass up with three of yer fingers inside you while you cried out for me to fuck you. It all clicked in my head then when you started acting different around me at camp.”

Micah flushed a deep red, coughing on air as he realised Arthur knew about his little crush. He tried to think of an excuse, to weasel his way out of it but his thoughts died in his head when Arthur twisted his fingers, scissoring and stretching him open before adding a third.

Arthur dragged a lip along Micah’s cheek to his lip, ghosting his lips over his before kissing him properly. This time Micah didn’t even try to fight for dominance, opening his mouth instantly for Arthur’s tongue to enter. Instead he sighed into it, pulling his legs to wrap around his waist as his hands wrapped around his lover’s shoulder.

It went on like that until Arthur was satisfied that Micah was well prepped enough, simultaneously rubbing against Micah’s prostate while he kissed him deeply. He only pulled away to pull his own leaking member out, bunching his pants around his thighs so he had enough room to move but could stay warm. He coated the rest of the oil onto his member, jerking slowly as he stared down at the sight of Micah below him.

Micah looked like an absolute mess against the pillows already, his face was flush and the scarf around his head had unwrapped slightly, revealing his disheveled blond hair. His chest was heaving as he panted and his thighs shook from pleasure as the weakly wrapped around his waist.

“You look so pretty like this sweetheart”

To say that Micah hated the pet name was a lie, one that he didn’t try deny as he moaned softly. His back arched and he gripped Arthur’s coat tightly as he felt his cock slide between his cheeks and over his hole. He’s wanted this for so long now and yet somehow it still didn’t quite feel real as his mind was clouded with arousal.

Micah’s toes curled and he moaned when he felt Arthur push into him, slowly inching forward until he felt him bottom out.

“Ah— ah! Oh Arthur fuck! Please fuck me, I’ll be good I swear.”

Micah practically sobbed with pleasure as Arthur set up a fast pace, pulling almost all the way out till just the tip was left inside his tight hole before pushing back in quickly, brushing his prostate in the process. His cock twitched from where it rested against his tummy, pinned between Arthur’s jacket which caused a string of moans to fall from his mouth.

“Look at you, so good for me— fucking perfect Micah. Such a good boy”

Arthur’s hands came to hold onto Micah’s hips for leverage, pulling on his slight muffin top under the jacket to help pull him back to meet his thrusts. Beneath him he heard Micah whine and whimper at the praise so desperately needed to hear.

Micah bought a finger up to his mouth, biting on his knuckle to silence any more noises he deemed to be pathetic from slipping out of him. He hated how close he already was just from being praised by Arthur.

It seemed Arthur wasn’t having any of it when he pulled his finger away from his mouth before kissing him like he had done not that long ago. He swallowed every one of Micah’s noises, mindful of Dutch sleeping next door and slowing his thrusts to something deeper and slower.

His hands roamed all over Micah’s clothed body, breaking away for air and whispering praises down his ear.

“That’s it, make those pretty noises for me sweetheart.”

Micah eye’s rolled into his head as he cried out.

“You’re mine, all for me— my good boy.”

More moans slipped from his lips.

“Atta boy— taking me so well, so good.”

His back arched and he withered in his embrace

“So eager to please aren’t you? I’ll take care of you now boy.”

“—Arthur! I’m close— Ah, I’m gonna—“

“Go on sweetheart cum for me…that’s it good boy.”

Micah’s whole body when rigid as he finally came. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling out as his orgasm dragged out with each thrust Arthur delivered, eager to chase his own.

He collapsed into the pillow, thighs shaking as he whined at the oversensitivity. It didn’t last long before Arthur’s thrusts changed pace to something more erratic, picking up the pace as he spilled his load inside him.

Arthur groaned into his neck, pulling him close and collapsing into him as he regained his breath.

He pulled out slowly with a wet and obscene pop, sitting up and helping Micah put his clothes back on. Micah only weakly managed to fiddle with the button on his jacket while Arthur gently manhandled his jelly-like limbs to fit back into his pant leg. He used the blanket to wipe the cum off his tummy, a weak attempt at cleaning up and something they would both no doubt regret come tomorrow morning but for now they were keen to sleep after such a horrific and chaotic few days.

Arthur pulled Micah into their original position for the night, the only difference being that his face was now tucked into his chest. Arthur rested his chin of Micah’s head, littering his hair with kisses as he played with his hair between his rough fingers.

Micah was the first to fall asleep, curled up with his forehead against Arthur’s collarbone. Arthur wasn’t far behind him either, finally letting himself get some much needed rest but not before he pressed a soft kiss to his hairline.

#morbell #micah bell #arthur morgan

[jademakean]

Clouded Sea

JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader

Warnings: Death, Thalassophobia.

Not edited

･*:༅｡.

It had been a while since your brother’s disappearance. You don't recollect how you reacted to the newfound information, in the beginning, your overwhelmed mind blocking out the details. What you do remember is how you spent days in your room mourning until you snapped out of your trance.

Just because they didn't find the boat doesn't mean they aren't alive.

It's John B, he knows how to get out of difficult situations.

He's okay

Of course, your slight change in attitude received attention from unwanted locals, you seemed more eager to leave the house, you didn't cry anytime you came back to the Routledge house, there weren't dark circles under your eyes anymore and it wasn't too long before they understood what you began speculating.

Delusion ran in the family

The pogues were the ones to understood your situation the quickest. On the rare location, John Bs name was mentioned, you spoke of him as though he were still alive. Barely phased by the fact that your brother wasn't around anymore. They also noticed how you'd run off right home to check the mail after hanging out with them.

At that point they began to pity you, believing that you were in denial and becoming obsessed-which you were- they discussed it amongst themselves trying to finds ways to bring you back to reality.

JJ was a different story, he became more distant and quiet. Mostly hanging at his house with his god-awful father. Doing his best at ignoring you because you'd just remind him of his second greatest loss.

As time went on you got some clarity on your surroundings. JJ behavior mostly.

You weren't sure how to approach him at first, he must be having his own battles that didn't need to be brought up, maybe he'd shut you out even more if you tried to ask him how he felt. So you decided to be casual.

You remembered how you had asked him to teach you how to surf before John Bs disappearance. You never learned how  because of your fear of the ocean, and it had gotten worse due to this past event. 

Sweat began to gather on your forehead due to the blazing sun up above. You readjusted you loose shirt, hiding your plain bathing suit. You knocked on the metal door, nervously waiting for who you were looking for and as you were about to knock a second time, a very tired JJ appeared with squinted eyes as the light hit his face.

The air left your lungs momentarily. You hadn't seen his face in a long while but he was here now, in front of you.

You snapped put of it when he whispered your name "What are you doing here?"

Taking a deep inhale, you smiled charmingly. “I came over to get you. You promised me you'd teach me how to surf last year, remember?” It was your fault for holding the plans back for so long, the thought of swimming above water clouded with sand was terrifying to you.

You walked past him, grabbing the beach towel on the floor and some sunscreen. “Right now?”

You answered with a smile “Of course! Better sooner than later. I'm tired of holding our plans off, we should just get it done and over with.”

“That's not what I mean.”

You stopped rummaging through the towels. It was easy to tell my the sound of his voice that he was still struggling immensely, it was also laced with confusion on how you aren't in the state of mind he is now.

“There are barely any waves today. I checked and there aren't many people either, it might be because it's a Wednesday.” You changed the attention the topic was directed to smoothly

“Y/n..”

You interrupted him by grabbing his hand, leading him to where his surfboard was abandoned for these past weeks. “Lets go, the sun is about to set.”

As you previously mentioned moments before, the sea was still. The sun warmed up everything beneath it, almost making you excited to get in the chill water.

Once you reached the shore line JJ began making little mountain of sand beside you “What are you doing?”

“You have to practice on sand before trying the real thing." He sighed.

“Actually-” you caught his eyes “-I was thinking that maybe you could help me get more comfortable with being in the water? I feel like that's the overall most basic step, you know?” You laughed lightly trying to cover up the anxiety spiralling in your head.

And thats what happened for the next few days. You started off small, allowing the water to reach your knees then moved on to mid thigh, and that alone lasted about 20 minutes. However, you didn't mind. You were able to talk to JJ more, which was hard.

It seemed like there was something on his mind that was one fake smile away from being revealed.

You both began meeting by the beach at 4:P.M, you'd stay for a few hours before he'd start help u balance yourself on the pile of sand with his surfboard.

It was all going well. You were always a quick learner when you got excited over something. JJ on the other hand seemed to become slightly closed off, like the only thing set on his mind was to teach you surf and nothing more. Limeted physical contact, no unessesary comments, no jokes.

Oh, how much you missed jokes. You hadn't heard one from him since your brother's disappearance. Your hopes of peeping one from him was slowly dimming away.

"Alrighty! I think I'm ready to sit on the board, maybe go farther out this time. A two in one." You smiled. While pulling down your shorts you decided to keep your shirt on. You excitedly took JJ's hand before guiding him to shore.

The water was cold, as usual, but you didn't feel as hesitant to enter it like before. It was an improvement that you were glad to notice.

Since you had a later shift at work it was already 7:50 P.M and the sun was starting to set, making the sky was a beautiful mixture of gold and blue.

You snapped out of your trance once you felt JJ's hands on your waist.

You were suddenly flustered by his action, and even though he was just helping you get on the board, he hadn't been very physical with you those past days. His a action was simply unexpected.

"Thank you." You said sitting up straight.

There was complete silence between the both of you. The only sounds heard was the waves clashing together gracefully, peoples distant voices and seagulls flying over their heads. This was the normal routine between the two of you, no talking, just the patiently waiting for your fear to disintegrate into ashes until you're able to swim without a care in the world, just like all the Pogues.

You missed them, truly.

There weren't anymore meatups at the Chateau or watching them surfing from your spot in the sand, sunbathing while drinking fresh juice.

"Do ya want to make plans with the gang? We could eat dinner at the diner, and maybe sleepover my hous-"

"What is wrong with you."

JJ interrupted you with a harsh tone, causing your smile to falter. "What do you mean?" You asked, calmly adjusting your body so you could sit with both of your legs on one side of the board.

"You know exactly what I mean." He looked into your eyes this time. And it's now that you have no choice but to look at his face that you notice the dark undereyes, dry lips and messy hair.

He wasn't taking proper care of himself, he probably couldn't if he tried. It was obvious your brother's disappearance took a toll on him. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" You asked, slightly afraid of his answer.

"How are you so okay with everything. I remember when you were locked in your room for weeks on end, and one day you just- came out. I didn't even see you and from what I heard it seemed impossible to be true. But then you just showed up at my door with no warning, with this big smile on your face and- I don't understand. He's your brother." His tone became more exasperated as he let out all the words that had been running through his mind.

"JJ, I'm not gonna stay sad all summer just because John be isn't here. I'm sure he wants me to do what makes me happy and keep taking care of myself. Plus, he's-"

"Stop talking about him as if he's alive!" JJ interrupted once again "He's dead, don't you understand? He's not coming back, or gonna send you some letter. He's dead."

His harsh tone made you feel as though he was purposely trying to hurt you. The worst part is that that's not the case. He's trying to make you see what he sees. "He's not dead."

There was a slight pause, he looked at you as if you were crazy.

"He's not. There's no body, so until I see one he's not dead. He's smart. He's got Sarah, they got away from the police and are probably in some island enjoying themselves."

"You've gotten comeplety insane! Do you hear yourself? You sound exactly like him when your dad disappeared, and you know damn well how that went."

His hurtful words ignited anxiety within your heart, making it feel heavy and sensitive. You were starting to feel too much and you didn't know how to stop it.

"I know he's alive! You'll see. He's gonna send some sort of signal, ofcourse we couldn't just show up out of nowhere when the police is looking for him. Since when does a disappearance automatically mean they died?"

JJ's eyes darkened, he was done with this game. He had to witness JJ obsess over his dad's disappearance only for him to be hit with utter disappointmen, he wasn't gonna allow the same to happen to you. "Face it. Your brother's dead, there's nothing you can do to change that."

His words hit you like a wave, his harshness making the agonizing emotion worse than ever thought possible.

It was so hard to keep hoping. It was exhausting.

"I don't wanna be alone"

Your words came out quiet and shaky. Once JJ looked back at you he took notice of the fact that your eyes were casted down, glossy and relaxed to the point where it seemed as though there was no emotion behind them.

The thought of not being able to hug your brother again- not having anymore long converstation about your future or simply seeing him from afar as he tried to outsurf JJ- was a thought that you refused to accept. However, you had begun douphting yourself and JJ finally saw through that crack.

His tense shoulders dropped, guilt sinking in knowing you were hiding the way you truly felt deep down.

"He's not dead, okay?"

JJ gazed at your expression swallowing the shame building up your throat before nodding his head. “You're right, he's not dead.”

He slowly approached you and got between your legs, wrapping his arms around you. “He's not dead.” You collapsed against him, resting your cheek against his collarbone.

Teardrops fell onto his golden skin, the feeling resulted in a shiver, running through his body as he hugged you tighter.

John Bs disappearance was harsh on everyone who truly knew him, and some learned how to hide it better than others. All that everyone slowly began understanding is that you were all one family and should watch out for each other.

“Do you wanna go grab a bite?”

You could almost laugh at his poor attempt to be casual, but you settled with a smile, pulling away from him while wiping your own tears with your arm.

JJ ran his thumb underneath your eye before kissing your forehead. “Come on, we can listen to Bob Marley on the way there if you want.” He snickered as he guided your surfboard towards the beachfront. You sighed, liking the feeling of the water moving underneath you as he pulled you to shore, observing the fish beneath you.

The sun had already set and all that was leftover of the sky was a pinkish-blue.

You could finally feel the sand beneath your feet. You watched as JJ walked off, grabbing his bag and shirt.

“Here.” He tossed over his top and your flip-flops as he slid in his. “Arent, you gonna be cold?” You asked knowing the shit that laid in your hands was the only one he had.

“What, would you prefer to walk around in your soaking wet shirt? Because I think that'd do more damage to your health than me going shirtless.” He teased with a raised brow.

You paused for a second allowing the realization that you are in fact soaking wet to sink in “Yeah you're right. Suffer.” Your approving sentence got a laugh from him.

You gaped at him. This was the first time you heard him laugh ever since go started talking to him again.

A smile made its way to your lips “Alright, I'm ready.” You stated after pulling a new shirt over your body. “My tapes are in the outside pocket.”

He pulled out the Bob Marley cassette from the bag before sharing an earbud with you. You accepted, untying your dry hair and finally setting it free.

The walk was peaceful, a comfortable silence falling over the both of you. The smell of pinewood from the trees was calming as you walked past the forestry area of the island.

You and JJ would always use this path after a beach day with the pogues. You would separate yourselves from the group so you could discuss about his job, home life, aspirations. Those were all things he never felt very safe discussing about with anyone but you. John B knew, but they didn't have the sort of relationship where they could switch to sensitive topics easily.

JJ liked how listened. You didn't look at him while he talked about such things, knowing he would feel intimidated by your gaze. The way your body slightly turned to him to show that you were paying attention. Most of all how you communicated with him first. When discussing about his father, you would ask if he needed a listener, a solution, or comfort.

Most of the time he would ask for you to simply allow him to rant, however, there were many times where he would ask for you to comfort him, just so he could receive the soothing sensation of embracing you tightly.

During every hug you shared, we're mere seconds of pure relief, relief that there was someone out there who knows about every aspect of his life and is yet to view him as weak.

“I’m really glad you got me put of the house. I hadn't surfed ever since he disappeared.”

It was as if the path you were on gave him the courage to speak with confidence. “And I'm sorry I was so harsh on you. I didn't mean to. I've just been feeling so much and I got so frustrated when you didn't seem as miserable as I am, I should've never been so insensitive.”

You knew he had a hard time apologizing to people, it made him feel vulnerable and he wants to have the upper hand in every situation. He likes being in control to compensate for the how much of it he lacks at home.

You looked over at him before smiling. “I love you too, JJ.” You ruffled his hair playfully before hugging his side as you walked.

JJ returned your smile, grateful for the fact that you resorted to a light-hearted response instead of a heavy one.

Time passed quickly and before you knew if you had arrived at the Chateau. JJ took a deep breath, his nerves increasing. He hadn't seen any of them, just as he hadn't seen you during those long weeks. How would they react seeing him there, let alone seeing the both of you together with smiles on your faces.

You squeezed his hand gently. An encouraging gesture to give him some strength.

You led him inside, the yellowish lights contrasted the night sky beautifully and as you both sat around the wooden table, you removed the earbud from your ear, which prompted him to follow your actions.

“JJ?” You heard Kie from behind you. Once you turned to face her she looked as though a miracle just occurred before her eyes.

Before your brain could acknowledge she dropped her notepad and hugged you both with the strength of an amazonian. “I missed you guys.” she mumbled into your hair.

As you were about to respond you felt more weight on you “We missed you guys.”

You giggled, now aware that it was Pope who was crushing you.

It had been so long since you had all shared such a heartfelt embrace, and you weren't going to let each other go for a while. You were all family. No matter how far you are or how long you don't speak to each other. This is what a true family was, and soon enough you were all going to be together again, as one.

“We missed you too.”

#jj maybank x reader #jj #JJ maybank #jj obx #jj x y/n #jj imagine #jj maybank angst #obx #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj x reader

[heliads]

Breaking Barriers

You are a Winter Soldier, used to being a hired gun anymore and nothing else. When Sam Wilson calls you to help with the Flag Smashers situation, you assume it’s just a job like everything else. He might convince you otherwise.

masterlist

When you first see the call pop up on your phone, you’re not sure whether you should answer at all.

You recognize the name, you know who’s calling. You know who’s waiting on the other end. You also have a sinking feeling as to why they’re calling- you know you couldn’t stay dormant forever. You were a Winter Soldier, after all, and you would never be allowed to stay away from a fight for too long. No matter how much you wished you could avoid it.

In the end, you answer. James Barnes, as you suspect, is waiting for you to reply. He’s not alone this time, joined by one Sam Wilson. The Falcon, a possible Captain America, now an ally of the very man who once tried to kill him. Then again, if you were going by people who tried to kill him, you would also be on that list. You operated under harsh mind control, you lost every fragment of your reality and ability to think for yourself. You’ve only been able to recently claw back some semblance of control, and even that has been hard-won.

You had hoped that staying away from the fight, whatever fight it may be, would do something for you. After the war against Thanos, when you had fought your hardest only to die and be reborn into another fight, you had taken advantage of the time to relax. In a way, that brief death was one of the only true moments you had to yourself. In that instant, watching your fingers give way to ash and dust, you had thought for just a second that you would finally stop being someone else’s weapon. Then you had been brought back to life, and a gun had been shoved into your hands as you had been told to fight once more.

It wasn’t their fault, of course. The Avengers needed help, you were there. However, there is something nice about being asked whether or not you wanted to join Sam and Bucky’s cause this time around. Yes, there are strings attached, as there always seem to be, but there have rarely been jobs without them. You know Sam Wilson is a good man, and Bucky tries his hardest to be one. Of all the fights to start, this might be your best one so far.

You meet them at a small airport in the outskirts of Latvia. You’ve managed to make record time on your flight, but even from your first few footsteps in the dusty tarmac, you can tell that you arrived too late. Seconds before you landed, you saw the videos trending across the world. You saw John Walker, that false Captain America, raising Steve’s shield like a barbarian and using it to slaughter a man who was begging for his life. You know what this means, and you know why you’ve been brought here.

Even without the video, you can tell that something terrible has happened. There’s a haggardness in Sam’s face, a weariness that seems to line his brow. You hadn’t spent that much time socializing with the Avengers, as even the world’s mightiest heroes tended to shy away from silent, potentially mind-controlled soldiers who tend to operate between the darker shades of gray, so you couldn’t claim to know Sam as well as his other coworkers.

This being said, you’d come to see Sam as someone who always knew what to say. You’d watched with grudging admiration as he plied the tools of his trade: soft knocks on the doors of people who needed to talk, gentle reminders that it’s okay to let one’s guard down. He’s tried them on you before, but they never really stuck. You didn’t know him well enough to fully go along with his talks, or he was still too wary of you. 

You could hardly blame him- even Bucky Barnes was known first as a kind, courageous 40s-era veteran. No one knew anything about you; no files to prove your worth, to save you or damn you as someone worth the Avengers’ time. HYDRA had essentially erased you from history, and all the world knew about you is that you were one of the Winter Soldiers tasked with mindless killings up until Sam and Bucky had pulled you out. Even Bucky had Steve to back him up, but you had nobody. That is the way of the world, you suppose, not everyone has a protector. Some people have to pave their own way through.

Despite all this, though, it still shakes you to see Sam so worried. You didn’t realize how often you’d looked to him as a source of calm and reason until you saw him concerned. This alone is enough to make you lengthen your strides, closing the distance between you and the pair of Avengers until you’re standing only a few feet apart. Sam extends his hand without hesitation, and you try to match his trust when you take it.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N. You look well.” From anyone else, this would be a nothing, a pleasantry designed to get past the first few stages of protocol. From Sam, however, you feel something different. Like he might actually mean it, or know how to look for the good and bad in you. You’re not sure you were ready for that, or that you’re entirely displeased with the fact that he’s already looking out for you.

Sam gestures towards an awaiting vehicle at the far side of the airport, and the three of you begin walking. You nod once at Bucky, he nods once at you. Winter Soldiers, always knowing when to hold your tongues. Sam raises an eyebrow at this. “So the staring thing isn’t just him?” You smile inwardly. There’s the Sam you remember. Even this brief moment of humor, however, disappears quickly to be replaced by a look of concern.

“Judging by the fact that you’ve gotten here so quickly, I’m assuming you’ve seen the videos. John Walker has to be stopped before he does more damage, and we think he’s taken the super soldier serum. We could use your help in trying to get him to stand down or in taking the shield.” Even this last saying is phrased like a question. You can’t help but compare this to the way HYDRA or even the Avengers used to talk to you. Their speeches were always full of brief, harsh sentences saying exactly what would happen. You would fight, the enemy would not get away, you would stay until the job was done. 

Sam, on the other hand, always leaves a way out, an escape route if you need it. You’ve already taken his call, already arrived in Latvia. There’s no chance you wouldn’t be willing to take on this job, yet Sam still checks to make sure you’re fully on board with the idea. This simple act of empathy is oddly heartwarming, and you find yourself trusting the man even more.

You nod at him, forcing yourself to recollect your thoughts. You’ve been a soldier for a long time, far longer than you should have. You can at least pull yourself together and not act like a starstruck teenager just because Sam’s the only one in years who’s truly looked at you as something more than a weapon. But it does strike like something different, doesn’t it? That’s why it’s so hard to push aside.

“Sounds good. Walker won’t come quietly, though. He saw those cameras and kept going, I doubt he’ll hand over the shield without a fight.” Sam tilts his head in acknowledgement. “I would be surprised if he did. That’s why we’ve got you, though.” You raise an eyebrow. “Backup?” Sam grins. “A friend in case we die.” Maybe he keeps surprising you after all.

John Walker, as it turns out, does not like the idea of turning over the shield any more than you had thought he would. It ends up in a fight, as it usually does. Sam and Bucky approach first, as you had agreed, with you waiting in the shadows in case Walker decided to come out with fists swinging. When things had looked particularly dire, you had jumped in, using your enhanced strength to begin forcing the shield away from Sam’s exposed head.

Walker had glared at you, recognizing you the same way he had Bucky. “You’re another Winter Soldier. You’d turn to criminals instead of staying on my side?” This last part is directed towards Sam, who stands up with a grunt. Something flickers in your chest at the sight of blood slicing up his face. “She’s not a criminal. She is an ally.” Sam says. You’re surprised to hear the honesty in his voice. He truly believes you to be a friend. He might be the first in a long time.

Walker turns back to you, attacking with renewed vitriol. “It doesn’t matter. I am Captain America. The shield is mine, even if I have to take down another super soldier to get it.” You shake your head. “It’s not about the super soldiers, Walker. It’s about making the right call. And I’ve fought enough super soldiers in my time to know that this is the right one.” You manage to wrest the shield away from Walker long enough for it to clatter to the ground. At the sound of ringing metal, the fighting momentarily stops as everyone- Sam, you, Walker, Bucky- turns to face it. 

The din of metal on the ground fades away as it comes to a halt, and then everyone dives to either retrieve the shield or stop it from being retrieved by someone else. In a way, it kind of reminds you of the golden apples of immortality from the Greek Myths- one thrown, groups of mortals falling after them. The shield doesn’t just represent power as it does to Walker, it’s a legacy to uphold. The immortality of a name always seems to come with a legacy.

The fight ends with Walker unconscious on the ground, the shield finally returned to Sam. You watch as Bucky strides away after nodding one last time to Sam, then stand up yourself. Sam calls after you and you turn, seeing him silhouetted in the light of the empty door. The dark of the garage seems to hang around everything but him. It somehow seems right on him.

“Do you have a place to go? Somewhere safe? After this business with Walker, you’re going to get some unexpected callers.” You nod slowly. “I’ve been able to keep HYDRA off of my back for years. Disappearing without a trace is my specialty. I’ll be gone before you know it.” Sam considers this for a second. “What if you didn’t have to do that?” You cock your head at him, confused, and he takes a step forward. The light from the door seems to follow him in, reflecting off of the sharp white lines and metal details on his suit. 

“There’s a place in Louisiana. Delacroix, near the harbor. I have family there. You can come visit, if you like.” You smile, feeling the refusal already rising to your lips. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but if you’ve got family then I probably shouldn’t be there. I attend to attract trouble.” Sam shakes his head. “So do I. So does everyone in this line of work. It doesn’t mean you have to be on the run forever. Take a chance, Y/N. It might pay off.”

With that, he leaves, disappearing into that window of light to the outside world once more. You watch him go, thinking over what he said. There’s a small motion from Walker and you glance over sharply, relaxing when you realize he’s still unconscious. Well, he’s going to wake up eventually. You might as well take a trip and see what you find in Louisiana.

Bucky ends up having the same idea as you, and the two of you meet up for the drive in. Once in Delacroix, it turns out to be fairly easy to find Sam- just follow the train of people congregating around one particular sun-bleached boat bobbing away by the dock. Sam’s gaze lights up when he sees you, and for some reason seeing his happiness makes you feel a little better about coming. You had always been taught that this lightness in your chest, this carefree feeling, was a distraction, something that would only serve to make you worse at your job. Yet why do you feel stronger now then you have in a while?

You don’t have that much experience with boats, but everyone around you seems willing to teach you. You’re not sure whether they recognize you as a murderous Winter Soldier from the news or are just willing to overlook it, but everyone seems ready to accept you as yet another visitor. You can see how this place shaped Sam- his unwavering kindness is present in every single face you see.

You end up working almost all day, and find yourself relaxing on the dock as the golden light of dusk starts to reflect out across the horizon. You hear steps echoing down the dock, and seconds later, someone sits down beside you. “I’m glad you came.” You turn to Sam with a slight smile. “I’m glad too. There’s a new kind of feeling here, something I haven’t had in a while. It’s good to get away from everything and just take a second to breathe.”

Sam gestures towards you in agreement. “That’s the thing. We can all be excellent fighters, but you’re going to wear yourself down to nothing if you stay on the battlefield for too long. We all have to give ourselves a chance to rest.” His tone becomes softer. “That goes for you too, by the way. You are worthy of taking a break.”

You force yourself to laugh. “I didn’t realize I was going to be having this in-depth of a conversation tonight. I would have prepared myself.” Sam gives you a look. “You’re trying to avoid the topic by making jokes. You’re forgetting that I do counseling for the veterans. You can’t use any of the old tricks on me.” You raise an eyebrow. “I can try.” Sam shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “It’s too late, I already know what you’re up to. The point is, your past can only take you so far. You have a right to a good future, and you keep running from it.”

You sigh, staring out over the water. “I just- I’ve done so much. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be without it. Bucky had Steve, had an entire museum exhibition where he could go read up on who he was. I don’t know who I was before the Winter Soldier program because HYDRA wiped it all away. Without something to fall back on, how do I know who I am anymore?”

Sam reaches over, gently wrapping his hand around yours. It’s a surprisingly comforting gesture, and you end up getting so distracted by it that you forget to move your hand away at all. “I know who you are. You are Y/N L/N, the Avenger who would never give up on a fight if she thought it was good. You have a drive unlike anything I’ve seen before, and you’re the one person I called because I knew you would always have my back. I trust you, Y/N, and I know that you will be able to find a place for yourself. You found a place with me, if it’s worth anything.”

You smile at him. It’s a full smile this time, unburdened by worry or fear of the past. “It’s worth a lot, Sam Wilson. To me, it’s worth everything.” When he kisses you, you’re not surprised at all. Just happy that it would be him to finally break down your barriers, and to convince you that you are worth all of the time and energy and love that he will have for you.

marvel tag list: @mycosmicparadise​

#sam wilson #sam wilson imagines #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson oneshot #captain america #captain america oneshot #captain america x reader #captain america imagines #falcon #falcon imagines #falcon x reader #falcon oneshot #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers oneshot #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu oneshot #marvel #tfatws

[echo-three-one]

How ‘bout Jealous Soap x reader?

Hello Earthisdonut 🌍 🍩

I saw your ask while I was at work and I can't stop thinking about how the story goes... I had a lot of ideas but as I wrote, it kept on swinging on the other direction. Maybe it's my feelings being resonated into the words or an entire force telling me to go this way. Anyways here you go...

A jealous soap x reader fic.

Take me home

You take a deep breath and closed your eyes, clearing away the mixed sounds of random chatter, loud tv commentary and the all the yelling. 'Friday evening shifts are the worst' you thought to yourself as you make your way back to your station, wearing a smile on your face.

"Hey miss!" a customer whistled from the far end of the counter. You hastily walked to him and smiled. 

"What can I get you?" you asked with sincerity in your voice. You've worked long enough to master the art of faking a smile when in fact you are tired, but this job is all you have and the tips kept the bills afloat.

"Two beers and roasted nuts, please." He ordered, you were impressed at how kind he was, unlike the other new customers who reeked of rudeness and bad manners.

"Coming right up, Sir!" you winked as you tend to his order, mentally noting his tab for later. You hand him over the beer, placed on a circular chip that served as a coaster, followed by a heaping bowl of roasted nuts.

This kind of scene continued throughout the night, just with different kinds of people with different combinations of orders. You feel tired but you tend to forget it when you look at the tip jar, the thing that kept you moving forward. It's also the thing that's holding you back from life, you remembered when your best friend told you that you should unwind sometimes instead of rendering overtime during your day offs, to which you replied : "Soon enough", and that was well over a year ago.

As you wiped off the recently left spot by the counter, a well built man immediately took the spot and sat down, you tilted you head upward as the action surprised you. There he was, you couldn't miss his look, he stood out on the crowd because of his haircut, a perfectly cut mohawk and a scar on his left eye. He grinned at you, his blue eyes looked excited as soon as it met yours.

"John? I didn't know you'd be home!" You gasped as soon as you realized he's actually there, quickly putting a shot glass and pouring his favorite drink.

"Hey Y/N! I knew I'd find you here!" his hand gestured for a shake but he quickly dismissed it as soon as he realized he couldn't do it while you're at work.

"Yeah, working as always." you replied, trying to sound contented. He smiled at you as he raised his glass and downed the drink. You couldn't help but look at the way his Adam's apple moved as he consumed the drink.

His face turned into something incomprehensible as he let the taste of the strong alcohol set in, making you chuckle a little. His eyes turned to you as he heard you laugh.

"What's funny?" he asked. You simple shook you head and poured another pint on his shot glass. 

"I'll be back in a few. I have to serve drinks for these wild crowd." You informed him, but as soon as you were about to step out, you hear him stand up.

"What time will you be off?" He asked.

"Two more hours." You replied without looking back. You could feel your cheeks warm up and an uncontrollable smile plastered on your face. 

"Okay. I'll be here till then." he yelled as you entered the door to the employee's area. 

'Shit Shit shit shit.' you whispered to yourself as you regain composure. He felt way off. He didn't act like this toward you before. You could feel something odd between you two, and you're very distracted about it.

You made your way to your manager's office to request a five minute break. You knew he'd approve a breather from you because he was a accommodating to you since day one. You believed it's because you always give it your all in every shift.

You softly knock on his office door and pushed it slightly ajar, peeking your head through it as you saw him on his desk, doing some paperwork.

"Ah, Y/N. You need anything, love?" he greeted in his usual tone. His endearment didn't matter you as he calls every female "love".

"Can I take a five? Just needed to breathe." you huffed. He nodded in approval and stood up. 

"Let's puff it out, yeah?" he smiled as he offered a stick of cigarette.

The cold breeze of the Saturday evening wrapped around your work uniform. The noise from the bar was muffled but occasional screams would echo across the street. You exhaled a long stream of cigarette smoke through your mouth as the relaxing feel of nicotine coursed through your system. Smoking was your go-to activity whenever you feel extreme unexplained emotions, such as seeing John MacTavish after a long time.

"Tough crowd?" Your manager turned his head to you as you casually leaned on the cold metal railing.

"Not really. I just saw someone I least expected to see." You retorted, pressing your lips against the cigarette butt as you closed your eyes and inhaled the vice.

"Someone you hate?" He queried. 

"Not necessarily. But at one point of my life, maybe... It's just... it's complicated." You complained, sighing at the thought of him once again. You mentally fought against yourself whether to reminisce or not, reminding yourself that the reason you went out here was to clear your head, not to fill it with memories of summer 4 years ago.

You fixed your posture and flicked off the cigarette butt to the ashtray. Your boss followed, escorting you back to the office. 

"Thanks for the company. I needed it." You thanked him as you crossed the street. He hummed in acknowledgement as he opened the door for you. You couldn't help but scan the room quickly for a mohawk, but he wasn't around. Maybe he went to the bathroom, you thought to yourself as you get back to your station.

9:59 pm. Your eyes trailed to the huge digital clock by the door, rapidly moving across the crowd still no mohawk in sight. This actually made you sad, he wasn't the kind of guy who dissappoints, you always saw him as a man of his word. You did confirm that he already paid for his tab about an hour and a half ago, just after your short break.

Guess you're going home alone. So much for ' I'll be here till then' you mentally argued, frowning as you wiped off the last glass in the tray.

10:00 pm. You sighed and lazily grabbed your time card and let the huge metal clock record your departure. You felt your energy quickly deplete due to the dissappointment that is John MacTavish.

"See you on Monday!" you waved goodbye to your coworkers who seemed to notice your sudden loss of energy. You push the back door slowly and stepped outside. It was getting cold and you weren't prepared for it.

"Hey." A low scottish accent muttered just beside you, making you yelp in surprise.

"Holy crap, you scared the shit out of me!" you angrily punched his strong arm, hurting yourself in the process.

"I'm sorry." he spoke lazily, almost tired or drunk. You couldn't exactly tell, but it was far from his tone earlier. 

"Pretty chilly, eh?" you asked him, imitating his accent. Something that you always considered a major turn on when it comes to him.

"A little bit. And your impression is way off, I don't say it like that." he retorted nonchalantly making you worry if something happened while he was waiting.

"You seem a little off, what's the problem?" you asked, playfully bumping him while you walked the empty streets on your way home.

"It's just... uh.. Nevermind." he trailed off, his secrecy was making you impatient and you stopped on your tracks. He continued walking, looking down at the ground until he noticed you're no longer beside him.

He turned back. "You forgot something?" 

"I don't get you." you raised your voice. He slowly walked back to you until he's just inches away from your face.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I should've just asked..."

"Asked what? You told me you'd stay here till my shift is over and then you're gone like that?" you complained, the tone of your voice was demanding and you could see him flinch when words hurt.

"I didn't want to raise suspicion." 

"Who would be suspicious of you?!"

"Shortly after you left, I took a smoke. But I didn't do it by the smoking area. I was way up here, enjoying the breeze." he said, turning to the smoking area which was very visible from up here. Was he sad because he saw you and your manager by the smoking area? What kind of eyes did he have? You didn't want to assume things so you started to supply him with questions to fill in the blanks.

"And? Was the area too sad for you to be all emo like that all of a sudden?" you complained, soing your best impression of an angry person, but you know deep inside that you couldn't get angry at this man.

"Yeah. You could say that." he chuckled. He couldn't even look at you anymore.

"Bullshit." you retorted. He slowly tilted his head and smiled as soon as your eyes met. The view was so gorgeous you almost felt like the world was in slow motion.

"You don't have to believe me if you want. Why are you walking with me home anyway. You could've said no. I bet he has some nice fancy car to drive you home." he blurted, fog started to huff out of his mouth as the snow started to fall from the sky.

"Where are you going with this, John?" you spat, letting the emotions get the best of you. If only he was clear enough then this wouldn't have happened.

"I saw the two of you smiling while talking, I thought to myself. Yeah, she's happy with that bloke huh, I wish I knew that before I invited her earlier." he breathed out. You almost felt guilty, but it wasn't your fault. He easily assumed things that weren't even true.

"What made you think we're together? Just because we're smoking together doesn't mean we're in a relationship. Is that what you thought?" you replied, fighting back helping him on his way to the truth.

He paused, it's as if his whole thought process was shattered when your words stung him. 

"I got jealous. To be fair, I was gone for 4 years... I always thought you already found someone else within that time." he frowned. It was not usual of him to feel this vulnerable.

"Look-" you tried to explain but you suddenly felt his warm embrace wrapped around you.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered. The same words he said before leaving 4 years ago. The same words that hurt you back then and the same words that's going to hurt you at this moment. He was the one that got away, he was the one whom you shared your most magical moments with, but not the one who's going to be there until the end. He'll have to leave anytime soon, as his job requires him to save the world. You told him he could settle for less risky world saving endeavors but he insisted that this was his purpose. And you were not willing to let him choose again.

"You know... you're not supposed to feel jealousy." you consoled, rubbing his well sculpted back. 

"I know... I couldn't help it." he whispered. 

"Let's get you home, John." you whisper to him as he pulls away from you, his face pouted like a baby whose candy got stolen.

"Why are you here anyway?" you added.

"I'm getting reassigned to a new task force. I figured I could say goodbye to someone I hold dear." he smirked, he felt normal, but then again you couldn't help but feel that this would be the last time you'll be seeing him. You we're thinking he won't be able to travel freely back here anymore or worse, he'll be the hero the world wanted him to be.

#earthisadonut asks for a fic #horRAYfic #no spoilers in the tags #but aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[corancoranthemagicalman]

So @nebulous-bondage , you said that you liked Dean being an idiot with internalized issues that he confronts, misunderstandings and miscommunications, and long-suffering Sam. I attempted to do a bit of everything but adjacent to anything I would usually do, took a movie metaphor and ran. I hope you like it!

Great love and hugs to Sophie over at @starrynightdeancas for hosting this AWESOME event for a fabulous celebration (and once again congrats on the milestone!!) I got to meet at least TWO new cool people from it. (My gifter and giftee.) If you want some amazing content, please check out Sophie’s stuff that I totally drew inspiration from. Figured if my giftee was a fan of Sophie’s, I couldn’t go too wrong taking a card out of that deck.

Lots of love!

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

The crux of the issue if you asked Dean, was this:

He was an idiot.

Okay, he was not—he wasn’t stupid stupid. He has got mediocre intelligence, right? He wasn’t like Sammy and his multiple languages thing or Bobby and his random lore thing and—

The point was Dean, while not stupid could be a massive idiot. And that was the conundrum that led him to soaking in the middle of a diner in Nebraska of all places with his mother gasping at him and his brother facepalming at him and Jack glaring at him—

And Cas… well, Cas was just. Looking. But his face was, if Dean had to pinpoint some emotion, reading like it was a heartbreak that he had just experienced.

Maybe Dean should start from the beginning. Just so you understand his perspective, okay? Because he wasn’t—he wasn’t stupid. This wasn’t entirely his fault, except that it might have been. And he might have a lot of talking to do. Which sucked, because Dean kind of hated talking.

Okay, maybe not the beginning. The beginning was fire and brimstone and sulfur. The beginning was something Dean was told, but didn’t remember. Or the beginning he did remember, which was lightning and fear and salvation—well.

Dean was far from the beginning. The real beginning. It had been longer than a decade. An entire lifetime—more than that—separating him from what he was. What they were now to what they were then.

But there is a beginning to every stage in Dean’s life, he’s found. And that’s what he means. This thing Dean had for Cas? It began long before Dean was aware of it. This particular circumstance that led to a soaked shirt in a corny booth? Well, Dean with the benefit of retrospection could pinpoint it exactly.

In the Bunker’s library was where this had all started.

Cas had just walked in, deeply conversing with Jack. All of the conversations that Cas had he treated with that same seriousness. Even back when he had just been newly revived. Newly in Dean’s passenger seat, donning a cowboy hat, and calling himself Huckleberry.

(His Huckleberry. Dean’s Huckleberry. Even if he didn’t mean it like that. Could never mean it like that. Because angel’s didn’t feel like that.)

Jack had spotted Dean first, or at least turned to face Dean first. Dean had wondered if Cas had that same peripheral awareness as him. If his eyes always looked for him when he entered a room. If he could feel the charge he exuded with every step.

(Probably not. It was probably an angel thing that made Dean aware of Cas. Something about electricity and grace. Even though Cas’ grace was fading by the day, he was an angel. Would always be an angel if Dean could do anything about it.)

The point was, Jack had turned from Cas. Had asked Dean something about courting rituals in film. Dean had scoffed, reminding Jack that he didn’t watch chick-flicks. Because he didn’t. And had given him some sort of half answer.

(Ten Things I Hate About You didn’t count. And neither did Dirty Dancing. Ledger was not starring in a chick-flick, and Swayze always got a pass.)

Frowning, Jack had made some comment to Cas. It was probably regarding their previous conversation, and that’s why Dean hadn’t retained it. Didn’t really get it. He was, as stated previously, an idiot. And maybe if he had paid more attention, he would have stopped this before it had started.

But he didn’t. Instead, he had turned to Cas. Because he had been thinking about Dirty Dancing. And how Cas hadn’t seen that yet. And Dean had asked Cas if he wanted to do a movie night. Just—just the two of them.

(He said it was because Jack was four, and maybe Cas should vet the movie first. And Sam hated Dirty Dancing. And Mom wasn’t even home. Which was all true. But it wasn’t often that Dean had the excuse to be alone with his best friend.

At the beginning of their friendship, Dean hadn’t had to share Cas with anybody. That was his best friend. His buddy to laugh harder with than he had in his entire life. His buddy to watch movies with and make jokes with. Now even Mary liked circling around Cas—not that Dean would blame them. But maybe—maybe he would like to be a bit selfish. Just this once.)

Jack’s face had lit up like a Christmas tree, and Cas’ eyes had looked as gentle as soft-serve. “I would like that,” he had answered, and that had been that. They had watched the movie, just the two of them. And if Cas sat closer into Dean’s personal space—well. Cas never knew what that was, did he? No need to correct him now.

And it was small things like that. Adjacent to what they had been doing before, but somehow different. Maybe Dean was laughing more. Maybe Cas was smiling more. Whatever the hell it was, it was nice.

(Nice in the way that butterflies in the stomach felt. Light and dizzying and wonderful and terrifying. Not that it was butterflies. Not that this was even remotely anything like that.

Because, if Dean were to be honest about it, butterflies didn’t come close. The butterflies in Dean’s stomach had once had jetpacks. But now? Now they were settled. They just lived there and Dean was used to it and it was—

It was more than butterflies. In theory.)

And it was Sam shaking his head at them. Them laughing. Jack sitting across from them with a board game on a team with Mary, facing head to head. And it was… nice.

(Nice should have been Dean’s warning.)

Jack’s movie night picks were always varying, but he had recently shoveled 90s romantic films into the fray. Sam, as predicted, had ducked out to FaceTime with Eileen when Dirty Dancing had made it to the top of the list, but otherwise stuck it out. Dean couldn’t even begin to list all of the names that had bled together and the faces with their generic, lovestruck expressions.

There was Jack’s wide smile, though. Sam snorting a laugh and shoving popcorn into his mouth. Mary, intrigued and curious, asking as many questions as Cas might have once upon a time. And Cas was there, right next to Dean’s arm, and warm beside him. Lovely and warm and giving that same smile Dean thought was beginning to make a regular appearance.

Sitting with his entire family—all of them safe for once?—of course it had to go wrong.

(Of course Dean had to be the one to ruin it.)

It was an entire nest of vampires out in Nebraska of all places. Mary had been in the area and willing to meet up with them. Jack had been desperate to learn more about hunting, a fact that reminded Dean of a far off memory of Cas newly returned from Purgatory. A gummy smile and determination braced into an angel who still had his wings. Dean would be damned if Jack wasn’t a spitting image of that.

(But, maybe… Maybe Jack could go without all the terrible things that happened during that time. Cas, back from Purgatory and not in control of all of his faculties. Cas, longing for penance and willing to pass vindication on Dean’s guilty conscience. Even if Dean wasn’t a great role model. Even if the first few weeks with Jack had been—

Sam called it living with John Winchester again. Dean hadn’t known what to call it. Didn’t know if he could call it anything. But that—

Well, that was for another time. Dean would always be living with that guilt, but for the moment, the guilt bloomed in a Nebraska diner sitting across from Cas.)

Laughing, smiling—things that seemed to subtly be a new normal for them. It made Dean lean back in the booth, sling his arm over the back of it and relax into his seat. He turned to Jack, ruffling the kid’s hair after Jack shot a syrupy smile to Cas across the table. Cas offered a shy smile, ducking his head.

Beside Cas, Sam rolled his eyes and resumed his conversation with Mary. Mary had squeezed into the side with Dean and Jack. Five people didn’t work for booths, and Dean couldn’t help but think that in another life he would have prevented this exact thing from happening. But he didn’t mind being half on a seat, Mary squeezing between Jack and the window, and Sam sitting across from her laughing. Cas’ still shy smile on him.

“I did have a question,” Mary raised a brow. “I mean, when did movies start getting so… formulaic?”

Sam huffed a laugh, giving a shrug of his shoulders. “Well, they’ve kind of always been that way, haven’t they? Old Japanese myth becomes Hollywood cowboys becomes modern Sci-Fi.”

“Hey,” Dean spoke pointedly. “Treading dangerous waters there, Sammy. You can’t go wrong with cowboys or aliens.”

“Oh! Or Cowboys and Aliens,” Jack beamed, pointing with his fork before returning most of his attention to the remaining stack of pancakes.

Dean acquesied the point with a crooked grin. “That too.” He took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the slow burn of hot caffeine into his system. “What sort of formula are we talkin’ about though? Are we talkin’ young girls getting hypnotized by weirdly boyish supernatural creatures?”

“Even that has some basis going back to at least 1897,” Cas pointed out, “at least from what most people with any familiarity of fiction are concerned. Stoker’s Dracula was also a youthful seeming figure who enchanted a young woman.” His brow furrowed in that thoughtful way of his before he continued. “Though, I suppose that since some scholars believe it is possibly an allegory for sexuallly transmitted diseases, that does reaffirm the belief that it is meant to be an alluring but dangerous figure threatening the virtue of a young woman.”

Mary chuckled, shaking her head with wide eyes. She still wasn’t used to Cas being… Cas.

(There were times where Mary forgot Cas was an angel. Not in the sense that she was not always aware of the supernatural aura around Cas, but in the sense that sometimes Cas was so human. He was thoughtful and kind. His words were provoking and caring. His emotions were as volatile and as gentle as any man Dean had ever known.

Perhaps better than most men Dean had known. More human than some men that Dean had known.)

“I meant the whole boy meets girl thing.” She gestured with her free hand. “I mean the movie dates and the plastic solo cups. It’s all so… basic.”

“Not exactly the boomboxes and the mermaids, is it?” Sam smiled gently, nodding. “I guess people just like it… simple. Y’know? That love can just be something as simple as movie dates and sharing milkshakes.”

Dean ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck. Sam nailed it on the head. The best part of movies was that they were simple, and you always knew how they were gonna end.

(The hero always beat the bad guy, always saved the girl, always lived happily ever after. Didn’t mean Dean didn’t like movies where the cowboy rode off—grievously injured—into the sunset where you knew he would fall off of his horse after the fade to black. It was just that sometimes—

Dean knew that was going to be his ending. The cowboy holding his bleeding side. No one beside him but his trusty horse. Orange sunset on his face. That’s where his life was heading.

So sometimes it was just… nice. To pretend those stories didn’t exist. And Dean wasn’t living in one.)

“I guess,” Mary sighed, “I just miss the romance of it.” She looked forlornly at her drink. Dean wondered if she was thinking of John. Thinking of a jukebox and Zeppelin songs that he knew all the words to.

“I suppose everyone has their own unique definition of romance,” Cas offered diplomatically. “Humans tend to think romantic actions are circumstantial rather than objective.” He turned a small smile to Dean. “Take for example movie dates.”

Scoffing, Dean rolled his eyes. “Just ‘cause I like movies doesn't mean I think that’s romantic.” He could feel his cheeks burn, causing him to scratch at his scruff with an index finger. He was going to have to shave, wasn’t he? His hair was getting long—

“What.” Jack’s voice pulled Dean from his pondering. It sounded a touch colder than Dean was used to coming from the kid. Usually, Jack was sunshine and rainbows. Storm clouds and thunder. A spitting image of his dad—the one he called dad—but softer. Softer because Cas had done his damnedest to not let Jack be hardened into a soldier.

(Not like Dean had been. Not like Sam had been.)

“What what?” Dean furrowed his brow. Sighing, he rested his forearms on the table. “Look, movie nights? They’re nice for getting a girl alone in the dark and getting handsy on the couch or whatever,” he shook his head. “But romantic? Hardly.”

(He wanted to say that he didn’t believe in romance. Maybe because he didn’t want to believe that romance was out there, but not for him. It was hard to say that though, when thinking of his mother and her Zeppelin songs.

When thinking of a tape full of Zeppelin songs.

So he didn’t say any of that.)

“So,” Cas began slowly, “you don’t like movie dates.” He nodded, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “I see. What sort of dates would you prefer?”

Dean quirked a brow at Cas, letting out a chuckle. “Cas, I don’t do dates.” He shot a wry grin toward his brother. “Sammy prefers the wining and dining, but I’m more straight forward. If I want to hook up with someone, I just ask.” Looking at his hands, Dean confessed softer than he had meant to. “I’m too old for messin’ around.”

(And it was true. He was too old for it. He was still a handsome son of a gun. Still drew some attention, but—

But any time he had tried, he found himself just wanting to be home. Just wanting to be on that couch with Cas beside him and Jack sitting at their feet watching a movie. Sam and Mary coming and going as they pleased but there. Home.)

“You don’t… date?” Mary’s voice sounded careful and her gaze felt scrutinizing. “I—I was under the impression—”

“Mom,” Dean stopped her, feeling an embarrassed flush overcome his features. “C’mon. Don’t pretend like people didn’t do hookups back in your day too.” He tried to come off as teasing. Tried to lighten whatever was strengthening Jack’s glare, whatever was making Cas’ eyes grow a far distance away, whatever was raising Sam’s hand to his forehead.

Jack fixed his jaw and Dean had to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. He could recognize that look from the mirror. And that was a terrifying thought, that Jack looked anything like him.

(Made him think about the weeks where Jack was living with John Winchester. Made Dean wake up in a cold sweat that maybe Jack had been learning from them during that time too. That despite Cas’ hard work, Dean would’ve turned Jack into John anyway.)

“Movie dates aren’t romantic,” Jack listed, “and you only want to hook up?”

(And none of that was really true, was it? Dean liked watching movies. And he liked doing it with Cas. He had admitted as much to himself even if the circumstances of those daydreams weren’t romantic.

But the idea of it being romantic wasn’t lost on Dean. That he could want it to be romantic. If asked, though, he’d say maybe movie watching was more domestic. Somehow that meant more to Dean. His little house and his little family watching a film, Cas pressing close and smiling.

But he wouldn’t say that. Couldn’t say that.)

“Love isn’t like the movies, Jack,” Dean huffed. “And I sure as hell don’t want it.”

This was where we were now. Dean’s shirt soaked. Mary gasping. Sam’s face in his hands. Cas’ face being etched with something sharp.

“Jack!” Mary reprimanded, hand resting on his shoulder.

Jack held his chin up in the air, looking down at Dean despite not having the height on him. “Isn’t it customary that when the guy says something stupid, the girl throws her drink at him?” His eyes squinted, head tilting, and it might have made Dean’s heart seize in his chest despite the frightening cold from the water clinging to his chest. “Cas is too kind to do it, so I did it for him.”

Cas was too kind for a lot of things, but—

“Thank you, Jack, but there is no need.” Cas spoke softly, but his face did not reflect that gentleness he always aimed at his son. Instead his eyes were still distant. Still lacking that shade of blue. “I believe this is, ah.” He shook his head and Dean could recognize that self-deprecating crook of his mouth from any distance. “This is the part of the film where the girl grossly misunderstands what is happening.”

“Can someone explain to me what is going on?” Dean snapped, jerking into action to dot at his shirt with napkins. “I’m freezing in Nebraska and we’re still talking about chick-flicks! Life isn’t a movie!”

The crook of Cas’ mouth shrunk, turning a touch sad. “I know,” he spoke calmly and pushed himself out of the booth. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I need some fresh air.”

No one kindly mentioned that Cas had never needed air before.

Dean was left staring at Cas' retreating form, that trenchcoat quickly crossing the horizon. It reminded Dean of the cowboy movies he had been thinking of. The injured cowboy carrying himself out of town, retreating from burdening his loss of life on anyone else. Bleeding and lonely.

Silence fell over the table, the napkins clutched in Dean’s grip quickly soaking some of the water from his shirt but doing little else to dry him. Sam’s elbow thunked against the table and shook Dean out of his reverie.

“So…” Mary began slowly. “You and Cas… aren’t dating?” She cautiously spoke, pushing her mug closer to the window as if that might spare it of whatever her words would stir within Dean.

(There was, admittedly, only one thought to cross Dean’s mind.

No, that wasn’t true.

There were precisely twenty-five different thoughts that had crossed Dean’s mind all at once. The largest of these—the loudest of these—was in a voice Dean ignored.)

“Mom, what the hell?” Dean furrowed his brow. “Cas is my best friend!”

Mary looked contrite, thinning her lips into a line. “I know that,” she reassured gently, “I just thought that…”

“Thought what? We were playing tonsil hockey or something?”

“Gross, Dean,” Sam sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He lifted his gaze to meet Mary’s across from him. “No, they’re just. Always like that.”

Dean swiveled to face Sam. Sammy was always insightful and usually right. But sometimes he spouted things that just… they didn’t—

(It didn’t make sense. To think of Cas and Dean as Cas and Dean. Not when Cas could never feel that way. Not when Dean was adamantly not thinking about it.)

“You told us that guys ask girls to movies when they like them!” Jack argued, pointing a finger accusingly at Dean.

“I what?” Dean furrowed his brow. “We do movie nights all the time! Watching a movie with someone isn’t a date!”

Jack turned to his pancakes with that same laser glare. Kryptonian son of a Kryptonian man. Super-human strength in the most unassuming package. Maybe the kid would have laser eyes. “We asked you why guys asked girls out to the movies in movies, and you said it’s just what people do.” He huffed. “Then you asked Cas to watch a movie. Isn’t that just what people do?”

It was then Dean realized he had no idea what conversation Jack was referring to, and he would have asked as much had it not suddenly come to his realization that—

(That—)

“Cas thought I was dating him?” Dean let out in a harsh whisper that felt like a whip to his heart.

Jack stabbed at his pancake, muggish and solemn with his movements. “I was so excited. I thought I had figured it out.” He let out a slow breath. “Cas tried telling me that… that sometimes humans say things and don’t mean it, but I thought…” Jack rested his chin on his balled fist. “And Mary said that her husband gave her a mixtape of Zeppelin too, so I thought—”

“Wait, wait,” Dean waved his hands in front of himself, speaking over Sam’s squeaking. He could feel his brain fritzing. Blowing smoke and threatening to stop in its tracks and never resume to whatever destination it had been plummeting toward. “Stop. Cas thought I was dating him. And he never said anything.”

Sam snorted a laugh, cracking a smile for the first time since this whole conversation had started. “When have you ever known Cas to say something?” He shook his head, hair curtaining his face. “He’s like the definition of happy with what we have.”

“Another movie trope!” Jack pointed with his fork, lifting his head from his plate. He turned with his silverware pointed at Dean this time. “See? You guys are like a movie!”

“It’s exhausting,” Mary let out in a quiet breath.

Dean could see her mulling over her abandoned coffee before he was distracted by Jack brandishing the fork near his face. He pushed the fork away with a single finger, furrowing his brow.

“We’re not a movie,” he admonished. “We’re people. People who’ve got—” Dean felt the words snap in his throat, clogging it with something thick. “He’s Cas. I’m me. Got it?”

“What the hell does that mean?” Sam furrowed his brow, matching Dean and leaning forward across the table. “You’re you and he’s him. Cut the bullshit, Dean.” Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on him like a searchlight. Felt it beam into every nook and cranny Dean kept hidden. Spotting the rats and the liter festering in corners.

Shaking his head, Dean pushed himself up from the booth. “I’m not having this conversation with you.” He spoke pointedly, looking at his family. His little, broken family.

(He could remember Lilo & Stitch. That had been one that Jack had insisted on watching. Dean couldn’t deny the kid the full cinema experience for a classic.

Sitting on the couch, watching the film, Dean could spy the intensity in Cas’ gaze. The way the green of the film reflected on his blue eyes. Dean caught himself before he leaned into Cas too far, but Cas caught the movement. Caught him staring.

“I just…” Cas had trailed off. “I hadn’t realized how much I could relate to a small, animated alien.” He shrugged. “I suppose now I understand how you could form a parasocial relationship with the talking dog.”

How could Dean put into words how much Cas was Stitch? Something alien and far away. An answer to silent prayers. Something that added to their small and broken family.

But still good.

Yeah, still good.

Instead he had just shrugged, made some remark about Scooby-Doo being everyone’s best friend until Sam had aggressively shushed him into silence.)

The problem was Dean knew he had to talk about it. What was worse was that he knew who he had to talk to. This wasn’t a conversation for his family in the middle of Nebraska. This was a conversation for Cas—wherever he was.

Running his fingers through his hair in aggravation, Dean could feel his boots stomp across the floor. He could hear Sam sigh and place his palm to his forehead. Feel Jack’s Kryptonian stare. Sense his mother’s fight-or-flight instinct kicking in.

(The truth was this:

Dean wanted to run too. Wanted to hide away from this conversation and never resurface. Hide beneath every shout from every hunter he had seen growing up.

But he was getting too old for this shit. And he was tired. And Sammy was always insightful and usually right. And if Dean’s gut was saying what Dean’s heart hoped it was saying? Well.

Well.)

“Cas,” Dean called out, spotting the slowly soaking shoulders of his trenchcoated angel as soon as he turned the corner. “Why the hell are you standing in the rain, man?”

Cas sighed, turning his heavenward face to the concrete. “I wanted to take a walk. It started raining. I didn’t let it deter me.”

“Doesn’t look like you did much walkin’,” Dean gestured to how close the diner was. Its comfortable brickwork was still three feet from Cas’ figure. Stepping closer, Dean inhaled sharply. “Cas, talk to me.”

“What would you like me to say, Dean?” Cas furrowed his brow, turning his entire body to face Dean. Dean didn’t know which was worse. The sharpened profile made of millennial old granite, or the thousand eyed stare that had raised him from perdition.

(It was neither of these.

It was a pair of blue eyes, a shade darker than those of Jimmy Novak’s, staring at him in a barn. Telling him he deserved to be saved. And continuing to tell him he deserved to be saved twelve years later.

That was the face that did Dean in. Always.)

Huffing, Dean could feel an instinctual, defensive fire burn in his chest. “First off, you could start with how the hell I was supposed to guess we started dating.”

Cas’ face hardened and crumbled. It reminded Dean of an old cookie. Stale and full of raisins. It was hard to look at. “We never started dating, Dean.” He spoke sharply. “I… I had made an assumption, and I know what people say about assuming.”

“Let me get this straight,” Dean shook his head. “My best friend of twelve years thinks I asked him out on a movie date in front of his kid, yeah?” He did not wait for Cas’ answer before continuing. “Then he just, what? Thinks that nothing would change? We’d just keep watching movies together forever?”

“I would ask for nothing else,” Cas confessed and his whisper was almost lost to the sound of the rain picking up, thundering against the roof of the diner beside them. “Nothing had to change. Nothing has to change.”

Dean growled. “Then why storm out, huh?” He bit. “If nothing has to change, why are you out here taking a smoke break in the rain?”

Cas inhaled sharply, turning away from Dean. “I…” he began, “I thought for once we were on the same page.” He let out a breath. “I just needed time to… think. Reconceptualize some things.”

“Reconceptualize things.” Dean echoed, ignoring the increase of the rain falling on his skin. “Cas, I don’t even know what to say.” He threw his arms with a shrug. “What am I supposed to say?”

Hadn’t he known what conversation he was supposed to have? Why was it so hard to speak to Cas about this?

Wasn’t it supposed to be easy? If Dean wanted this, and Cas wanted this, then wasn’t it that simple? Just like a movie?

(The problem, Dean figured, was this:

He actually didn’t know what Cas wanted at all.

All that time thinking Cas couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Now here they were, and Cas thought they were dating, but he hadn’t done any of the things Dean would have done if they were dating. What would dating Cas even be like? What they had already been doing for weeks? Years?)

“Cas,” Dean inhaled a fortifying breath. “Man, what do you want?”

Cas brow furrowed and his head tilted, scrutinizing Dean. Being solely under that powerful gaze made Dean shiver. The angel’s eyes widened and he took a measured step forward. “You should get out of the rain—”

“No!” Dean gripped tightly at Cas’ shoulders. “No, I’m not leaving until you tell me what you want Cas!” He shouted and he was certain his voice would have bounced throughout the nearly empty parking lot of the diner had it not been for the deafening rain.

“What do I want?” Cas shouted in equal force. He shrugged Dean’s hands off of his shoulders, pressing forward into Dean’s space.

(Suddenly, Dean was reminded of an alley. Of Michael and Lucifer. Of Cas pressing him against the cold, damp wall. Beating his convictions into him.

It felt holy, those dangerous touches. Punishment at the hands of an angry god reminding Dean what he was fighting for. Even if he hadn’t lost sight of it yet, and even if Dean didn’t know it yet—

Cas would always hold him to that.)

“What I want,” Cas growled, eyes squinting against Dean’s features sharply, “is the one thing that I know I can’t have—”

“And how do you know?” Snapping, Dean took the last step between them. Their faces were close as they had been in the past, but…

But it had been so long since Dean had been this close to him. And it was somehow not close enough.

Cas’ eyes widened, breath that he didn’t need hitching. Dean watched in fascination as the blue of his eyes was slowly overtaken by the dark of his pupils. His crows feet somehow diminished with his wide eyes.

Youthful.

He looked like an echo of a Cas Dean once knew. But this was the Cas Dean always knew. Just older. Wiser. Kinder.

(And Dean loved him more with every day.)

“Cas, I'm tired.” Dean confessed. “I'm tired of lying to myself. I’m tired of pretending that I don't—I can’t—” he stumbled over his words, searching for some hidden strength that might have resided on Cas’ skin. “I keep telling myself you couldn’t ever feel like… like that. And it’s easier that way. Maybe if you can’t ever feel like that, then it’ll never happen so why should I hope for anything else, right?”

Cas made to interrupt him, but Dean wasn’t finished. Not by a mile. And Dean had been driving all of his life. Knew the comfort of driving. There was something like that here, with Cas.

(There always had been.

On a park bench in a small town Dean couldn’t even remember the name of. Cas saying he wasn’t a hammer. Dean listening. The first smile or the first joke that wasn’t a barb. Or both.)

“But that's bullshit, isn't it? ‘Cause you feel like nobody I’ve ever met, Cas.” Dean laughed breathlessly and it felt like oxygen deprivation. The kind that made you dizzy and squeezed your chest. “You feel so much all the damn time. That's the whole reason Naomi hated your guts. You’ve got this—this heart, man, and I gotta tell you, I’m jealous.

I’m jealous of every person who gets that from you. That gets a piece of you. ‘Cause I want all of it. Isn’t that nuts, man? That I’m too chicken shit to get over myself but I want you completely like that?” Dean gulped in a fresh lungful of air but he still felt like he was choking. Cas’ eyes taking on the appearance of mist, glistening and open, growing the thing beating its way out of Dean’s ribcage.

Dean swallowed, closing his eyes and trying to finish what he had to say. What he knew he had to say. Dean wasn’t good at talking. He didn’t like talking.

(But he loved Cas.

That probably balanced it out.)

“I’m scared, Cas,” came the confessional, “I’m terrified that I’m gonna—about everything.” Opening his eyes, Dean looked to Cas again. Found the remainder of the strength he needed looking back at him so intensely. “But there’s, uh, there’s this guy who sort of makes me feel better. About all of that. And I think I could move fucking mountains for him if he asked me to.”

“Dean,” and Cas spoke it like absolution. Like forgiveness for all the things that Dean had done. All he would ever do.

(And maybe he did. Maybe Cas did forgive Dean of it. There was so much to forgive. Little to forget. But maybe—

Maybe Cas saw Dean. All of Dean. The John Winchester that he was and the John Winchester he could be. The Mark of Cain on his arm and the Demon in his eyes.

But maybe he saw Lilo, too. On her knees and praying. Hoping. Someone who was trying.

And god.

Did he want to try.)

Licking his lips, Dean’s eyes flickered to Cas’ mouth for a moment. “Y’know Cas,” Dean whispered. He couldn’t risk speaking louder. Not if it was going to break the spell. Not if it was going to fade to black before he could get this. “I’ve always wanted a movie kiss.”

Cas’ smile spread gently across his face like warm butter over morning toast. “I thought you said life wasn’t a movie.”

Dean chuckled, ducking his head in hopes that Cas wouldn’t catch the burning of his cheeks. He probably did, though. Cas was just observant like that. Knew Dean like that. Bringing his face back up to meet Cas’ gaze, Dean couldn’t help but smile wider.

“It isn’t usually,” he shrugged with a single shoulder. “But, uh, way I see it?” Dean leaned forward, brushing the tip of his nose along the bridge of Cas’. “I think we just might be.”

(And god that was corny. But Cas made Dean corny.

No.

Dean was corny. Cas just made Dean comfortable enough to be whatever he wanted to be. And what Dean was right now was kissing the love of his life in the rain, receiving a foot-popping silver screen worthy first kiss.

Fade to black. Roll credits. Cue the 90s pop cover of the title song.)

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #the sndc gift exchange #gift exchange #fics #my writing #destiel #spn #thought they were dating #everyone thought they were dating #miscommunication #misunderstandings #dean is an idiot (affectionate) #I hope you like this. I was experimenting and I had fun writing it. So I hope you at least halfway enjoy it? #welcome to the C is insecure channel #but seriously I hope this at least somewhat hit some of the buttons I was aiming for. #Big thanks again to Sophie for running the event.

[collecting-stories]

Thirteen - JJ Maybank

Request: hi! could you write an imagine where jj and the reader are really close and when they are starting to hook up for the first time and y/n gets scared bc of her past. She has a flashback and JJ helps her. She is reluctant and denies that anything is wrong. But finally she admits to jj that it’s not him and he’s super sweet and protective?

TW: Very brief contextual mention of sexual assault to a minor. 

Outer Banks Masterlist

▽ △ ▽ △

A knock sounded on the bathroom door as you sat on the edge of John B’s tub, head in your hands as you tried not to cry. Not today, not after all this time. You knew who was knocking but you didn’t have it in you to answer. Partially from embarrassment, (had you really just up and ran into the bathroom in the middle of making out?) and partially from the residual and everlasting pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatened to swallow you whole every time you felt even the smallest bit of happiness seep in. 

“Do you...should I go?” JJ’s voice followed his usual three-in-a-row rapping pattern on the wooden door. Like a code you didn’t need to tell you it was just him outside. No one to be afraid of. 

“No,” you shook your head even though he couldn’t see it, looking at the mirror across from you, a silver of forehead reflecting in the glass at your current height. “No, sorry, I’ll be right out.”

“Don’t apologise,” JJ replied hastily, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t trying to make you feel like you had to rush out, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. He wasn’t exactly world class at comforting people though, “Are you alright? Do you want me to call Kie or something?” 

“No.” That was the last thing you wanted. Then your friends would be up in your business and you loved them, truly, but you didn’t need them interfering in whatever was happening between you and JJ. Or not happening, at this point. 

“Is there, I mean...is there anything I can do?” He asked, pacing the small area around the bathroom door, staring at the pictures Big John had on the wall. “We can talk or something.” 

You sighed, standing up and getting a full view of yourself in the mirror. “Yeah. Okay.”

The bathroom door opened and JJ stood up straight, back hovering against the wall opposite you, as if he was afraid of what would come out. It was just you though, looking a little worse for wear, as if you’d encountered a ghost somewhere between the pull-out couch and the bathroom. And, to be fair, you had. A ghost that looked a lot like you only younger, maybe a little more naive, and scared. You walked out of the bathroom slowly, reminding yourself over and over that the boy your ghost was afraid of wasn’t here and it was JJ, looking sweet and sympathetic and a little scared himself, that was standing across from you. 

“Hey, uh....here,” he led the way into the living room, moving aside the old comforter for you to sit on the pull-out, “you can sit.” 

You chewed at your lower lip as you sat there on the side of the bed, thigh pressed against the arm of the couch, staring at JJ who was still standing, rubbing at his arms the way he did when he was nervous, “You don’t have to be weird JJ...I didn’t mean to freak out.” 

You couldn’t help the guilty feeling gnawing at you. It’d been a perfectly good afternoon until your meltdown. John B was out and JJ invited you over because, truthfully, things between the two of you had been changing. A little more than friends, it had been a long time since you had trusted yourself with letting a crush be anything more than a crush. But JJ was different, you had always been honest with each other and he had trusted you with his dad. You knew you could let him in, it was just the doing so that felt like an insurmountable hill. 

“It’s cool. I just,” JJ shrugged, sitting down beside you but keeping a person sized distance between your body and his. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

“It wasn’t you.” You clarified though you hoped he already knew that. 

“Are you...okay? I mean, can I do anything?” JJ asked, teetering on the edge of wanting so desperately to help but also wanting to call anyone else in the world who would be better at this then he was. 

“It’s just-“ You thought about how to tell him so that he understood, how to make it sound so that he didn’t treat you like some sort of leper when he found out, “you know when you told me about your dad...”

“Yeah.” 

God, he would remember that for the rest of his life. The way you looked so upset when you thought he’d been picking a fight with Rafe or Kelce only to have him say that it was his dad. The way you looked, so horrified and angry, like you were going to march over there and beat the crap out of Luke Maybank yourself. JJ had half a mind to think that you could’ve if you really wanted to. 

“That’s, I feel like that.” You replied, thinking of the way he looked when he told you, that pain like a piece of broken glass wedges into his heart. 

“Is someone hurting you?” He paled as his eyes met yours. Immediately running through every possible candidate in his mind. 

“No, no.” You shook your head, not anymore. “I’m, I just don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“I wouldn’t.” 

“Yeah but-“ you started to say but JJ shook his head, cutting you off. 

“No, seriously. I wouldn’t. Whatever it is you can tell me.” He replied. He waved his hand between the two of you as he continued, “this is a judgement free zone.” 

“Yeah okay.” You nodded. 

“What’s going on?” 

“It’s just...I haven’t really...done this before.” You replied. It was a complicated truth and you were trying your best to get it out, to explain something you’d never explained before. “Well,”

“Hey, it’s okay.” JJ scooted closer finally and you found a small piece of you immediately comforted by the feeling of his hand against your back, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

You nodded your head, moving your leg so your knee brushed his as id to silently confirm that it was okay. 

“I guess...” you tried to think of the words to say as you started to talk, “when I was 13 I had the biggest crush on my friend’s brother. I thought he was so cool. And he talked to me, ya know...like made me feel special. On day when I was over their house he told me he liked me a lot and that if I liked him I should...show him.” You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself again.

Trying not to run for the bathroom and lock yourself inside. This was JJ. Funny, dumb, always high JJ, who tried to do party tricks to impress you at the risk of breaking a bone. Who lied through his teeth to buy a keg the week before while you sat in the driver’s side of your jeep honking the horn at him so many times the guy in the shop sold the keg just to get you to leave. JJ who always made sure you were okay any time you were feeling nervous. 

You pushed on, “I just really wanted him to like me and I didn’t want to do that but I felt like I had to. And I haven’t been with anyone since then cause-“ 

“Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to do anything, at all.” JJ stressed, his hand rubbing warm circles on your back. He leaned over and kissed your exposed shoulder, so gently you almost swore it was your imagination, “Whatever you want, I’m happy just hanging out like we always do.” 

“I know you are. I just, I like you but I just feel like, I’m not sure...how to be with someone.” You didn’t even think you were making sense at this point but he didn’t seemed fazed. “It feels, it doesn’t feel like I think it should.” 

“Maybe that’s like, you telling yourself you aren’t ready for that yet.” JJ replied, unsure if he was even doing this comforting thing right. 

“Yeah but you’ve been with like, a ton of girls before.” You weren’t naive enough to think that JJ had never hooked up with the girls he hung around at parties, you knew that was pretty much all he did. 

“So what? That doesn’t have anything to do with this.” He insisted.

“If that’s true then I should be fine.” You argued. If he could just move on and not think about or compare you to anyone he’d ever been with then you shouldn’t still be carrying this weight. You didn’t even want it. 

“That’s different, someone hurt you.” He replied, “Yeah I’ve had sex before but, both of us wanted it. What your friend’s brother did wasn’t anything like that.” 

“I just don’t want you to think I’m messed up or something,” you explained. “or that you want something I can’t give you yet.”

JJ frowned at the sentiment, the last thing he would ever want is for you to feel any kind of pressure. From him, yourself, or anyone else, “I don’t care about that. And hey, we agreed, no judgement.” 

“Yeah I know but-“ 

“No. When I told you about my dad, that was really hard but you didn’t bail on me or make me feel weak. This is me doing the same for you.” He replied. “Forget dating or whatever, this is me and you alright. Best friends before anything else. What happened wasn’t your fault and it doesn’t change the way I feel about you at all. Don’t think that it does.”

“Okay.”

“That was a half-ass okay.” JJ replied, his shoulder knocking against yours. 

“It’s the best okay I can offer.” 

“How about, we just watch something? John B’s not back for another couple of hours.” He suggested, getting up and climbing onto the bed, the springs creaking as they buckled under his weight. You twisted to watch him as he made himself comfortable, spreading out with his back against the cushions and his arms out on either side. “We can even take a nap.”

You kneeled up onto the bed and crawled over to him, careful as you laid down beside him and rested your head against his shoulder. His  arm came around to drape over you and you reached up to hold his hand. “You got a full eight hours last night, how are you still tired?” You asked, the mood lightening significantly as you relaxed with him, “What would you have done if we had actually had sex?”

“Fallen asleep on you.” He replied, shrugging as if it was the obvious answer, “You would have asphyxiated cause I would’ve crushed you to death.” 

“You’ve been hanging out with Pope too long, you actually know what that word means.” 

“Are you saying I’m not smart enough to know things without hanging out with Pope?” He asked, sitting up a little more to look at you. 

“No, I’m just saying Pope is smarter than you,” you almost shrieked as he tackled you against the cushions, fingers prodding your sides over your tank top. “Oh my god, JJ! Stop, you know I’m ticklish!”

“Not until you admit that I’m the smartest person you know.” 

“Yes, yes, okay, you JJ Maybank are the smartest person I know,” you laughed as he stopped tickling you, hands holding your sides as he leant over you and placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Good,” He replied, “you admit the truth. Now, let’s watch something happy.” 

-

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[football-rambles]

Delicate - John Stones

I written this a couple of years ago, I just deleted and altered it. I just listened to the song yesterday and felt I needed to re-write it. I may re-write my attempt at my reputation series. But for now here we go!

Warnings: A pathetic attempt at smut

Special mention to @wheelergrealish​ for reading this before I posted this, you’re a star 

You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was in complete darkness and your thoughts were with a certain footballer. Who had you met just over a couple of weeks when you attended your best friend boyfriend football match. It was what you ‘needed’ after you broke up with your now ex. That was when you met him.

You had started dating, but it was very casual. You couldn’t even call it dating. You had been on one date, had sex, well you lost count on that. Both of you reeling from each other’s break ups. Both afraid to properly commit, or even label what you are.

It wasn’t something you both had really talked about, but you knew he would avoid that conversation on purpose. You knew it was because he hadn’t directly told you. He was a little careful because of how his last relationship had been so full on.

Elle, Ella? you couldn't remember.

Your phone that laid on your nightstand suddenly lit up, casting a dim light in the dark bedroom. Reaching for the phone, you squinted at the brightness as it hit your eyes to read the text.

Dive bar on the east side. Where you at?

You looked at the time and jumped up, jumping out of bed, realising that you had lost track of time in your thoughts yet again. He was at his best friend’s party and had asked you to meet him there for the night.

You hurried to your closet and put on the plain black dress you knew he liked. He didn’t tell you that of course, you we’re both shy when it came to complimenting each other. As you grabbed your purse and hurried out of the apartment, telling yourself you would do your make up in the Uber as you thought to yourself.

He's taking up too much of my headspace.

You stood outside the bar, it was old and around the corner from the river. It was so peaceful except for the music that was booming inside the bar. The wooden sign hanging over it, slightly rusty. But from the outside, you could see through the glass that it was a small, cosy place. You wondered what a footballer like Kyle chose somewhere like this. But you hesitated because though it looked like a place you would love to be, it was very crowded.

You avoided crowded places and had gotten use to the quiet. After your breakup with your ex, you couldn’t stand being around the crowds, judging. You hesitated outside the door for a moment before inhaling deeply as you walked into the bar.

You couldn’t see him anywhere, so you made your way straight to the bar, you wanted to avoid conversations with people. As you made your way over to the bar and sat on the stool and started to tap the bar waiting to be served. You looked around to see if you could see him, but nothing.

Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you Oh damn, never seen that colour blue

You were served, which annoyed the bloke that had joined next to you, moaning about the service. You turned around to see that he was making his way over to you. You noted his outfit, black jeans, Nikes that fitted well. He had a light colour blue shirt that you couldn’t quite place it with the outfit, but you liked it on him.

“Let me buy this lady a drink.” The man slurred at the bartender that handed you a glass of wine.

“No thank you,” you muttered before the man laughed at you.

“Oh, come on.” The man slurred again, this time he started to lean over to you.

“No thank you.” You pulled back. You hated strangers, they made you even more nervous that before. Ever since your reputation was ruined by your breakup with your ex, you we’re constantly being judged by everyone. Your reputation was damaged over something you couldn’t control. Yet you had the shit to deal with.

“Back off buddy.” A voice says to the stranger as he slipped his arms around your waist.

“I’m just trying to buy her a drink,” The man spoke.

“Her drink is on me,” John said in a calm tone. “Now back off,” He repeated.

With that, the man left, and he sat next to you on the barstool that just became vacant. “I’m sorry about that, I should go come over.”

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I’m used to it now, my reputation never been so worse, so” you trailed off, letting out a sigh.

“Well, I don’t care about that,” He says quietly as he took your hand from the bar.

“You must like me for me, huh?” You say with a small smile.

“I do,” said, planting a kiss on your hand. "And I promise that-"

"We can't make any promises now, can we?" you say, cutting him off with a peck on the lips as you leaned across.

He smiled warmly and after hesitating for a few seconds, leaned across to kiss your forehead. With that, he turned away to get the barman’s attention. you stared at his back, swallowing thickly, resisting the urge to touch his shoulder.

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? Cause I know that it's delicate

As you pulled up outside his house, you were worried for a moment if it would be alright with you just showing up without warning. You had been going out nearly a month. Things were just the same. Nothing had changed.

You were starting to feel a little anxious as you realised that you were the one taking the relationship seriously, worried that he didn’t. It frustrated you that things were going so slow, yet so fast.

When you were together neither of you could keep your hands off each other, and they had sex anywhere but each other houses. Cars, even in the changing room once when you visited on a training session. But you hadn’t been to his house and neither had he yours.

When you’re with him, the question was always on the tip of the tongue, but almost as if he knew what you were thinking, he'd kiss you and then, everything was history. Temporarily at least, till the thoughts came crawling back.

Stop right there.

You simply could not afford to be the one who invested more in this relationship. Did he want it slow? That was fine, perfectly fine. He did not want to talk about it. That was cool too.

It was just fine.

Frowning from your thoughts, you were still debating whether to go and knock on his door. Thoughts interrupted when you heard a tap on the window making you jump. You turn to find him stood there, in a hoodie and shorts, standing there with a half-amused smile. Grinning sheepishly at him, you rolled her windows down. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He replies, crouching to give you a kiss on the lips. “What are you doing?” He asks.

You looked at him, hesitantly before answering. "Honestly? I thought you were training, so I just sat here." you lied.

He raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Well, I’m off today...that’s why my car is in the drive."

"Yeah...that explains that" you say, looking down at your steering wheel embarrassment. “Do you fancy coming for a drive?” you blurted out.

John looked at you and straightened up “I-Sure, but you’re a good driver, right?” He teased.

“Um, I don’t have my license...so” you joked, which John looked at you are laughing. “Let me lock up.”

The drive was silent, a comfortable silence. As you gripped the steering wheel for dear life as you drive down up the street you lived; you were going to turn off towards the lakes one of your favourite spots.

“This is the street you live on, right?” John asked.

“Uh...yeah I share an apartment with my best friend” you explain, quietly. Looking across at him, “Do you want to see my place?”

JOHN looked over at you and nodded, “Sure. I’d love too,” He says.

The third floor on the West Side, me and you. Handsome, your mansion with a view. Do the girls back home touch you like I do?

A few minutes later, you were both standing outside your apartment door as you fumbled with the keys nervously, grateful that your best friend wasn't home. The door clicked open, and you gestured for John to enter first, flicking on the lights as you followed.

You kicked off your shoes and taken off your coat as watched John looking around the apartment quietly, and you could see him processing everything he was seeing. Suddenly, you felt quite nervous because you knew the décor were not really his thing and it was small, his house was about 5 times the size of the apartment.

"I know it isn't your style or big but-" you started, but he you off.

"I love it," he said with a half-smile, turning to you.

You smiled at him and felt yourself relax a little and walked over to him slowly, satisfied when you saw his eyes darken a little. As soon as you were within touching distance, John pulled you towards him and kissed you. His arms wrapped around your back, engulfing you completely, as his fingers splayed across the length of her waist. He started to tug at the hem of your shirt,

You instinctively guided him towards the couch, leading him there while the two of you were still kissing. Both fell on to the couch, His lips kissing yours all down your jawline before meeting her lips.

Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

For two weeks after they'd gone to her place, you had started to drop by the training ground unannounced. Almost all your visits always ended with a night spent in your apartment. Other than that, JOHN dropped by during the days when he wasn't at training or a game.

Despite all the time you both were spending together; you hadn't spoken about where you were going or what you were to each other. The only thing you knew was you both wanted each other, and that he was in your head almost all the time. You tried to tell him that you didn't like when he left the apartment, and you'd be wide awake listening to the fading echoes of his footsteps, desperately wanting to tell him to stay.

Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs, stay here, honey, I don't want to share

But the last time you were around your apartment, you were woken by an annoyed best friend, she had thrown a fit; she was tired of either going to her boyfriend’s place or being kept awake by the two of you. She would like to spend at least one silent night at her own house.

Now you were stood outside John house, waiting for him to open the door. Seconds later, the door opened, and he stood in the doorway grinning at her. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, John,” you say shyly.

You could feel your cheeks burning, you were still shy around him after all this time. He stepped aside so you could walk through the door. Placing his hand on your back as he guided you in. He took your coat and purse and laid it on the table neatly by the door. He looked at you and around. “This is home.” He says quietly.

Your face turned red, once again stricken by how he didn’t hesitate. In the first week, he was always careful, and though you both hadn’t talked about anything, all these subtle things that he had started doing; small kisses, playing with your hair, hand-holding every time you were out and people staring. These things have her stupid amounts of happiness, and you knew you had fallen for him hard.

Cause I like you

“So, I know you love the notebook,” he started. “So, I thought we could, maybe watch it tonight?” He suggested.

You looked at the table that had a bowl of popcorn, and the DVD, tears filled your eyes. He listened to you babbling on about random things.

You looked at him, “it’s perfect!” you say kissing his cheek.

John half was watching the film but was watching you as you were indulged in the movie. He smiled as he went back to watching the film.

You had turned to see that John was watching you wipe away the tears “I just love this film, so much,” you say defending says, smiling.

John smiled and kissed your forehead, “I know.”

You had let out a small laugh, and her hand travelled upwards from his chest to bottom of his t-shirt. You leaned up to him kissing him. His hand left the armrest of the couch and rested on the side of your face, tracing along your jawline with his thumb; John knew you loved it when he did that.

"Bedroom," he whispered rapidly, pulling back for a second.

He stood up and offering his hand you and lead you up to his bedroom. After he closed the door behind him, he turned around and crashed his lips to yours again. You impatiently began to pull at the hem of his shirt, and chuckling softly, he left your lips for a second to pull his t-shirt over his head before going back to kissing you. Flipping you around, your back now to the door and continued to kiss.

You let out a satisfying and let your hands travel down towards his pants, teasing him slightly over his boxers, growling, he started to back away, pulling you with him towards the bed. When the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, he turned around to you and pulled away from your lips. Both of you we’re breathing heavily, and he gave you a gentle nudge, so you fell back on to the bed.

Sliding his hands under your skirt, his fingers teased your hipbone before starting to remove your pants. You were already slipping out of your top, arching your back slightly as you pulled it over your head and threw it away recklessly before lying back down entirely. He bent down to kiss you, supporting himself with one hand while the other travelled back down to tug at your skirt.

Once that was off, his mouth moved from your lips to your chin, and then to your collarbone, one of your weak spots. He was moving slowly, from the top of your breasts to gentle kisses on your stomach, teasing you into frustration. Finally, his mouth travelled to between your legs, and your eyes fluttered closed as he teased you endlessly with his tongue, alternating between soft caresses and firm kisses. You began to whisper his name, request clear in your voice until he complied with your requests. Your hands clutched the sheets as you arched your back, each thrust eliciting a louder groan.

Your hips bucked, meeting thrust for thrust, as both of your moans fuelled each other's fires further. Finally, you felt yourself climaxing under him, and he followed soon after. He collapsed on top of you, both of your bodies shuddering with the release of desire you had just experienced. After laying on top of you for a few quiet minutes, John kissed your collarbone and rolled off you, lying next to you both catching your breath.

Sometimes I wonder when you sleep. Are you ever dreaming of me?

He slid one arm under your neck and pulled you into his side as you marvelled for the umpteenth time on how well you both fit together. You turned towards him and watched him quietly as he fell asleep. your eyes traced his jawline, and you were unsure whether to stroke the hint of stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. You saw his eyes flicker towards you at his touch, but you didn’t back away. You knew you wanted more. This man-made you feel things no one ever had in a short space of knowing him, and you loved it. As you looked at him thoughtfully, he turned on his side to face you.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked

You looked at him hesitantly, swallowing nervously, this was it. You could either lie and worm your way out of it or just talk to him. You knew how that would end, he would either reject you and say you’re on different pages all this... or this could go somewhere, somewhere much better than where it was now.

Sometimes when I look into your eyes, I pretend you're mine, all the damn time

Leap of faith. Do it, Y/N.

"I like spending time with you, John" you say softly into his shoulder. "An-And I don't like it when you leave. When you go, I keep wondering if there're other girls who touch you like I do, you know?”

"Y/N I don't-" John started.

"I know, I know, you don't, John. It's just my mind messing with me because of... you know... I just worry, that's all. I feel like I'm sharing you with everyone else, and I don't like it. That's weird, right?" you sighed but continued. "I guess it's just because... Because... I don't know what we are to each other, you know? We never really talked about it. Am I your girlfriend? I just need to know. It drives me crazy and I just..." you trailed away, eyes still on his shoulder, too scared to look at his face.

"I don't know. I just really, really like you, John," You finished with a whisper, a heavy weightlifting off your shoulders.

You laid still, your hand starting to drum a nervous rhythm on his chest. You could feel him tense, and the panic began to build as you struggled to find words that could erase what you'd just said; to make light of what you just said. "Um, sorry, is it uh... cool that I said all that?"

Cool!? Really, Y/N?!

"I mean, I know that things are kind of... I-I know that it's delicate."

When he still hadn't said anything, you finally looked at him apologetically, asking defeated. "Isn't it?"

Closing his eyes at your tone for a second, he finally turned to look at you. "It is," he said softly, but continued. "But someone had to ask, and I'm sorry that I was too much of a coward to say that."

"And... you are my girlfriend. I thought you knew that" John said, and when your eyes widened off guard and you opened your mouth to say something, but he cut your off. "Yeah, I'm sorry for not getting around to tell you I thought that."

Then, removing his arm from under your neck, he now turned on his side to face you fully. "I like you too, Y/N. I like you a lot," he said thoughtfully. "I'm glad you're around."

He turned kissed your forehead, firm but soft and pulled back with a grin. "And nope, it isn't too soon. I'd say it was about damn time."

Cause I know that it's delicate

#John stones #football imagines #football imagine #football one shot #football oneshots

[julesclues]

fake dating

“so maybe i’m not okay..” // chapter 4

warnings: some violence, mentions of sex

pairings: jj maybank x reader

word count: 4.07k

it was the day after you all met up at the wreck. the sun made the air muggy and humid, more so than usual, which definitely didn’t help the fact that you were already in a bad mood.

“kiaraaa,” you groan, as she pulls you towards her bedroom to get ready for midsummers. “i don’t wanna go,” you sigh, letting your back hit the bed. she chuckles as she walks in her closet to grab both yours and her dress. “i don’t wanna go either,” she admits. “but my mom is making me. it’s just one night, we’ll be fine.” she throws you your dress and you grab it, starting to change out of your clothes. it was a silky red, similar with kiara’s purple one. you both had flower crowns, but kiara’s was lavender, while yours was a classic maroon. your dress had a small slit on the side, making it look quite sexy, if you did say so yourself. but you were never going to admit that to kiara.

you walk up to the mirror, as she slips on her heels. “this is disgusting,” you say, eyeing yourself while putting on the flower crown. “you look hot!” she exclaims, making you smile softly at her through the mirror. “i look like a bourgeoisie pig,” you mumble, making kiara laugh. “we’ll have fun,” she declares. “besides, i’m sure jj will find you dashing,” she laughs, but you keep a straight face, causing her to tilt her head in confusion. “what’s wrong?” she asks. “besides going to midsummers?” you ask sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “y/n,” she says in a low voice.

“look, i need to tell you something. and you have to swear to me that you won’t tell anyone else. you won’t even tell jj that i told you.” she looks at you as you pace back and forth across her room. “i– yeah. i promise. i won’t tell anyone,” she agrees after a moment of silence. you take a deep breath in, knowing you’re about to break one of the rules you and jj made.

“jj and i aren’t actually dating. i accidentally told my family we were, so he’s fake dating me for $100.” after your confession, you expected kiara to get mad at you for lying to her and the others. but instead, she just laughed. sooner or later, you joined her. “don’t tell anyone please! jj and i made a list of rules and one of them was to not tell anyone that we’re faking it. but you’re my best friend, i can’t keep it from you.” she hands you your black two inch heels and you thank her as she speaks up. “i kind of had a suspicion you weren’t dating,” she admits. “you two never got along and now all of a sudden you do? it just seemed a little weird to me, but i wanted to be there for you guys.” you hum in agreement, sliding on your heels and standing up to admire yourself in the mirror.

“either way,” kiara says, making you turn around to face her. “i still think jj is going to find you stunning.” you scoff, sitting back down on the bed as she does her makeup. “oh yeah? and why’s that?” you ask sarcastically. “because he’s obviously in love with you!” you laugh loudly, hitting your thighs with your palms. “in love with me?” you repeat. “kiara, have you been here these past couple of years? have you not seen the way we literally can’t breathe around each other or we’ll argue?” kiara puts on some of her lip gloss, and throws it to you, so you can put some on as well. “yeah but you don’t see how he looks at you when you’re not looking,” she exclaims. you scoff, as both of you head to the front door to meet the boys at john b’s house. “kie, he’s not in love with me. he’s just doing this for money. afterwards, we’ll break up and go back to hating each other. just don’t tell anyone, okay?” she sighs in defeat, knowing you won’t believe a word she says. opening the front door for you, she states, “you have my word y/n.”

fifteen minutes pass and you two walk up the stairs to john b’s house. before opening the door to walk in, kie puts her hand on your shoulder, making you turn to her and stop. “you really do look beautiful y/n. trust me when i say that the boys are going to think you’re gorgeous. especially jj. just watch his eyes. he can fake what he says and fake what he does, but he can’t fake how he feels. eyes can tell a thousand words.” you look down at your feet and smile, hoping to hide the slight burn that rose to your cheeks. kie notices that you’re blushing, but she doesn’t say anything. “i’m not saying he does, but if he did look at me in a different way, i wouldn’t know,” you speak up. “i don’t know what jj looks like when he likes a girl,” you admit. kiara laughs and pats your shoulders. “that’s because he’s never liked another girl. there’s only one of you.” you try to throw the idea of you and jj together out of your mind, but for some reason, the thought of you two laughing and smiling, being all lovey dovey with one another, kissing.. all of that made you smile. but you wouldn’t admit that to kiara. you would never admit you liked jj. not even to yourself. your ego and pride was too big for you to admit that in a matter of days, the boy that you once hated, became the boy you wanted to do everything with.

walking into john b’s house, you’re greeted with pope fixing his tie in the mirror, while hearing john b and jj argue in the spare room. the room was far away, so you couldn’t quite make out what they were saying. pope eyes you two from the mirror and turns around. he looks at kiara first, and then at you. “you girls look beautiful!” he says, engulfing you both in a hug. you laugh in his shoulder and thank him. pulling away, his eyes linger back to kie. “wow kie i–“ she shoves him lightly in the shoulder and chuckles. “don’t get all soft now pope,” she replies. “the boys aren’t ready yet?” you ask, walking to the fridge to get a bottle of water. “they should be out soon!” pope yells a little too loudly, trying to get the attention of the bickering best friends. “relax pope, we’re coming!” you here john b yell.

still looking through the fridge for water, you sigh in disappointment when you can’t find any. you hear the spare room door swing open, and turn to ask john b if he had any water. but before you could, your eyes fall onto jj, in white button down and black vest, with his crooked bow tie. a breath hitches in the back of your throat, and you could feel your mouth go dry. never in a million years would you think jj maybank in a white button down and black vest would have your knees weak.

his eyes meet yours after roaming your body, and your blush starts to match your dress. “hi,” you announce softly, walking back to the living room where everyone else is. “h-hey,” he stutters. you giggle at his stuttering, and glance at john b. “dressing up for sarah, huh?” you wink, and he hugs you quickly. “you know it,” he says confidently. you look back at jj, and walk in front of him. even with the heels, you had to look up into his eyes. “your bow tie is crooked my love,” you whisper, while fidgeting with the tie on his handsome neck. he looks down at you and once you fix it, your eyes meet his. “you look beautiful,” he says with a soft chuckle. looking in his eyes, you try to find that look kiara was talking about. but it was no use. no boy has ever looked at you the way kiara described. you didn’t know what to look for in his ocean blue orbs. “shush with the lovely dovey stuff,” pope laughs, making you clear your throat and look to the floor.

“shut up pope,” jj says with a quiet laugh. “not my fault that i find my girl here absolutely gorgeous.” linking his arm with yours, you smile at him. “w-we should get going,” you declare, trying your best not to get flustered by the compliment. you felt kiara’s eyes and smirk on the back of your head, but didn’t dare to turn around as you all left john b’s house and made your way to midsummers.

arriving at midsummers only 10 minutes later, you’re greeted with loud music and even louder kooks. you grip onto jj’s arm a little tighter, and he looks down at you. “you okay princess?” he questions. “i see rafe,” you whisper lowly, making his hand turn into a fist. “just don’t look in his direction, and we’ll be okay.” you look up at his as he speaks his low words, and can’t help but admire him. he was still looking directly at rafe when speaking those words, but the way his jawline moved, had you more weak than you’d like to admit.

you and the pouges are greeted by sarah cameron, john b’s.. girlfriend? “hey guys!” she says joyfully, while hugging john b. “hey sarah,” you beam. she turns towards you and sees you and jj with linking arms, and raises her eyebrows. “since when did you two get along?” before you or jj could say anything, john b speaks up. “they’re dating,” he says nonchalantly. “what?!” she questions, a little too loud. “i thought you two hated each other.”

“oh yeah i really hate her,” jj says boringly, making you step on his foot with your heel. he groans in pain while you smile widely. “he’s kidding,” you say in between your teeth. “but yeah, we’re dating,” you lie with a big smile. “alright..” sarah says, a little skeptical, but doesn’t go any further with it. before anyone could say another else, sarah claps her hands together in a cheery voice. “girls! come with me to the bathroom?” you look at kie and she shrugs, but you both couldn’t answer as she takes you by the hand and drags you. “i– jj i’ll see you in a bit!” you yell, still getting dragged by sarah. he laughs and waves goodbye to you. you smile back a bit sadly, not wanting to leave his side. you felt empty without his warm embrace.

walking into the bathroom, sarah starts giggling. “i can’t believe you and maybank are together!” you look at kie and she looks away with a sly smile, knowing you were lying about the whole thing. “what can i say,” you laugh. “love is unexpected.” she nods in agreement, and you know she is talking about her and john b. all of a sudden, you hear a loud bang from across the hall. you all look at one another, before running out and realizing it was coming from the men’s bathroom. “get the fuck of of me!” you hear a voice yell.

“oh god, that’s jj!” you scream, running towards the bathroom. “y/n! get back here!” you hear kie yell, but you’re too focused on getting to jj. you run into the men’s bathroom, and see kelce and topper holding down jj to the floor, while rafe stands over him. rafe turns to you, and grins slightly. “get away from him,” you growl. rafe starts walking closer to you, as jj tries to shimmy out of the boys’ grip. “well, well, well,” he starts. “don’t you look marvelous y/n?” your hand turns into a fist as rafe walks closer to you. “you powerpuff girls better leave him alone, or i’m going to fuck you up,” you hiss, and the boys, except jj, laugh mockingly. “oh darling, i think you’re mistaken. what’s really going to happen is that you’re going to walk right out of here, and not tell a single soul about what you saw.”

you laugh and scoff, making rafe angry. “like hell i am,” you yell. you collide your fist with his face, making him stumble a bit behind him and grab his right cheek. this allows jj to get the upper hand and finally slip out of the boys’ embraces. he jumps on top of rafe and starts punching him. “fuck,” he punches him, “you!” he finishes. “jj!” you yell, as he continues to punch him. “jj, stop!” you cry out. he lifts up his fist to punch rafe once more, but after hearing how upset you sounded, he stopped. “l-let’s just go j.. please.” he looks up at you and nods, while rafe spits blood to the ground next to him. jj gets off of rafe and walks towards you, but as rafe says, “yeah that’s right.. go on to your little whore, maybank,” he runs back to him and kicks him in the side. “don’t you ever speak about her or to her every again! and if you ever lay a hand on her.. i’ll kill you.”

you run up to jj and help him as he leans against you. topper and kelce go to rafe’s side, but you don’t even glance back at them. all you cared about was the beaten boy right next to you. the both of you walk out of the bathroom, greeted by the other pouges. “oh my god!” sarah exclaims with concern. “what happened to you two?!” you chuckle slightly and feel jj’s arm wrap around your waist for more support. “rafe happened,” he winces. “get him home,” john b says to you. “we’ll clear things up with the security guards,” he says, pointing behind you guys. you realize the security guards were getting closer, so you and jj make a break for it, keeping your heads down and trying to find a way out of there.

“what were you thinking?” you ask, as he looks down at you. “i wasn’t,” he admits. you stay silent, not expecting that reaction from him. he points up and you see an exit sign and grin. “let’s go,” you say, but before you could, a security guard stops you two. “uh- hello,” you stutter. “you need to come with me,” he says with no emotion. he grabs jj, making him wince and release his grip from your waist. he starts pulling him away, but you yell, “let him go!” in the distance, you see the security guard turn around with jj, and he scoffs. “i invited him here. and i’m a member of this club,” you say. you know. like a liar.

“and since i’m a member, i am able to have a plus one. he’s my date.” the security guard looks down at jj and, of course, the blonde smirks. the guard lets go of jj and leaves, mumbling words you really didn’t care to hear. you look back at jj and he grabs his wrist while yelling, “come on my love! workers of the world unite, right!? throw off your chains!” you laugh loudly, not caring who was around you or staring. you start running towards jj and he slowly takes some steps back, opening his arms wide and smiling even wider. you collide with him and giggle nonstop while he picks you up and twirls you off the ground. he ignores the physical pain he felt in his chest due to the forming bruises. all he wanted to feel was your body collided with his.

getting back to john b’s house around 20 minutes later, you sigh and take off your heels. “my feet are killing me,” you say, and turn to jj. you can see him trying to hide his pain, but you weren’t going to let him off the hook so easily. “i’m going to clean you up,” you say. jj goes to say something, but you shush him by continuing your sentence. “don’t even try to say you’re fine jj, because i know you’re not. i want you sitting on the counter with your shirt off and if that’s not done by the time i get back, i’ll do it for you.” he smirks and you scoff. “get your mind out of the gutter you idiot,” you grin. “thay was kinda hot,” he mumbles. “don’t cream your pants j,” you tease, and he coughs slightly. “i’m going to get the first aid kit. do as i said, okay?” he nods in agreement and you walk to the spare bathroom to grab the first aid kit.

you walk back out and see jj sitting on the kitchen counter, taking off his shirt. you blush at the sight of abs you’ve seen countless times. but you’ve never seen them when you’ve felt differently about the boy.

you walk up to him and place the medical kit next to him on the counter. you open his legs so you could fit through, and he smirks, yet again. “don’t even say anything,” you sigh in disappointment. he laughs and you start to clean him up using hydrogen peroxide and a rag. you start at one wound, right by his jaw, and he winces in pain. you could feel tears approaching the surface of your own eyes. you hated seeing jj in pain, whether it was physical or emotional. he noticed you were close to crying, so he tried to reassure you.

“i’m okay, y/n, really,” he says to you, as you lift his head up and apply more hydrogen peroxide to the cut on his lower jaw. he winces in pain and you put your hands on your hips with a stern face. “for some reason, i don’t believe you,” you croaked. you look down at the cut forming on his chest and press slightly onto one, making him grab your hand to stop you. he clenches his jaw and you raise your eyebrows. “..so maybe i’m not okay,” he finally admits, making your shoulders drop in slight relief. at least now he’ll let you take care of him. you continue to apply the medicine to his cuts. you weren’t making eye contact with him, but you could still feel his deep blue eyes on you. “stop looking at me maybank,” you exclaim, looking up at him. “you look mad,” he says, in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. “that’s because i am,” you huff, leaving in between his legs to walk to the medical kit you had. grabbing more hydrogen peroxide, you put it on a different rag, and hear jj speak up. “why are you mad at me?” his voice was kind of soft, which made you want to just jump in his arms and forget all the anger. but you couldn’t. he had hurt himself because of a reason that was probably no more important than teachers during summer break.

your back was still faced to him when you pinch the bridge of your nose, following by the placement of your hands on the edge of the sink. “i get they had you held down jj, you shouldn’t have punched him like that,” you whisper in a low voice. “he disrepected something important to me!” he defends. you turn your body towards him and grab the rag, walking back in between his legs. “oh really?” you scoff. “please jj, enlighten me! what could he have possibly said before i walked into the room!?” you ask loudly, putting the rag softly on his chest. he winces, and throws his head back in pain, still keeping his eyes on you and his eyebrows furrowed. “he said how hot you were for a pouge y/n! and he asked me if i had “hit that” yet! he was treating you like you were some toy for men! he was talking about you like you were only good for your body! he disrespected you and it pissed me the fuck off! i cant have people disrespecting you! especially rafe! the things he said about you.. it was horrible! i wanted to kill him!” he yells loudly, which causes you to cease your movements and look up into his eyes, yet again. “what..?” you whisper in disbelief. “i–“ jj stutters, not knowing what to say.

“you got into a fight because of me?” you whisper. “no y/n.. i got into a fight because rafe is an asshole with a little dick that doesn’t know how to respect women.” a smile creeps up on your face as you giggle. “shut up,” jj states, looking to the side to hide his red cheeks. “you stood up for me,” you tease, going back to cleaning his chest. “yeah well, don’t get used to it,” he says nonchalantly. you giggle and look slap his shoulder. he winches in pain and you gasp, bringing your hands to your mouth. “oh my god! i forgot! i’m so sorry, did i hurt you?” you ask with concern. you examine his shoulder but he just chuckles, making you tilt your head in confusion. “what?” you ask. he grabs your shirt, pulling you closer to him, and smirks. “i– jj, w-what are you doing?”

“you look adorable when you’re flustered,” he comments, and you gain a bit more confidence. “you know, the other pouges arent here. you don’t have to flirt with me,” you respond, and he laughs. “i know,” he says back, making you blush. you clear your throat, and look down at jj’s hands still tied up in your shirt. “j..” you whisper, looking back up into his eyes. his eyes flicker to your lips, making your cheeks heat up even more. “you really do look gorgeous,” he comments, and you smile softly, running your fingertips along his abs, careful not to hurt him. “thank you,” you giggle.

the loud slam of a door caused both of you to jump away from one another. you turn around while jj looks past your shoulder, and see how the other pouges came back from midsummers. “rafe is a fucking asshole!” kiara yells, plopping down on the couch. she lifts her head up to look at sarah, and smiles nervously. “no offense,” she adds. sarah laughs and moves kie’s feet so she could sit down. “i agree with you.”

pope and john b look at you two, and smile. “how you doing jj?” pope asks, as john b grabs a beer from the fridge. “as good as i can be,” jj groans. “would be doing even better if i got to beat the shit out of him.” you smack his shoulder, lightly this time, and he looks at you and shrugs. “what? i’m being serious!”

“hey jj, what did rafe even do that pissed you off so much?” you look down while john b asks the question. “oh i– he– um..” jj stutters, not wanting to admit to the pouges that he hit rafe because all he did was say you looked pretty hot for a pouge, and asked jj if he “hit that” yet. “he called jj a dick,” you speak up, saving jj from the embarrassment. kie laughs slightly, as well as pope. “yeah,” you chuckle awkwardly. “he also was saying some shit about us, so jj, being the amazing gentleman he is, shut rafe up.” you turn to jj and he smiles at you. he didn’t have to say it, but you knew he was thankful.

you started to clean his cuts again, now noticing some bruises to form. but one thing you couldn’t keep out of your mind was: was would have happened if the pouges hadn’t walked in when they did? was jj starting to feel something towards you?

no, you say to yourself. he can’t be. besides, he can’t break the most important rule.

no falling in love.

🏷 tag list: @spencereidbasis @lonely-kermit @pankow1218 @downbytheouterbanks @softtfordrew @maybanksbaby @teamnick @diverrdown @octopus1284 @merchantjjreply @k-k0129 @broken-jj @obxmxybxnk @euphoriapains @sofianunes10 @1d5sosddl @peterparkour15 @hales-a-bells @bailspogue @lemur46 @prejudic3 @itsagurl @castiel-savvy18 @drewswannabegirl @queenofthepouges @harryswigss @largedenominationsplease @kay667 @poguestyle17 @itsyagirljay @agirlwholovescoffee @illbesafeforyou @poguestyleskye @httpstarkey @jjpoperights @netflix-imagines @mijnliefste @anotheryoungin

#jj maybank #john b routledge #kiara carrera #outerbanks #pope heyward #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank obx #jj maybank x reader #jj outer banks #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow #rudy obx #jj imagine #jj x reader #jj maybank outer banks #obx fic #rafe cameron #sarah cameron #topper obx

[demxters]

Temporary Love

ch. 2- a change of heart 

kook!jj maybank x reader au 

summary: jj kicks his plan to make amends into action while you try to avoid him as much as possible... 

word count: 4.2k 

warnings: none? (lemme know if i missed anything) 

series masterlist ✰ add yourself to the taglist!  

this is dedicated to my loves @infernoem14 and @thesewordsareallihavetogive 

a/n: it’s been so long since the last update, i’m so sorry. but hey i got this out so i’m glad. feedback is always appreciated pls let me know what you think! this is kinda a filler but i promise the next part is gonna kick things off...

*** 

Of all the things Pope Heyward was anticipating to happen at work, finding JJ Maybank waiting for him outside his Pop’s shop was the last thing he was expecting. The blond haired boy was leaning against the wall in usual JJ fashion with his vape pen between his lips. Pope tries to dismiss the boy and quickly walks past him when a distant ‘Hey!’ stops him in his tracks. 

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” 

With a sigh, Pope reluctantly turns around to meet the gaze of the boy he once called his best friend. His heart clenches for a second, remembering the day JJ moved. Y/N cried all night as Pope and John B held her. Despite moving to Figure Eight, Pope (similar to John B and Y/N) had no resentment against him up until the incident that tore them apart. 

“Pope?” JJ asks again, noticing the far off look in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” the boy mumbles. “Yeah, sorry. Sure.” 

JJ lets out a breath of relief. After finally disassociating himself with Rafe, Topper, and Kelce, the only thing that JJ could think about was you and the other pogues. He couldn’t believe how stupid he was to let that all go. How stupid he was to let you go. Which is why he devised a plan. A plan to win back you, Pope, and John B’s friendship back. “Do you guys still do those fishing trips out on the marsh?” 

For the second time that day, JJ Maybank caught Pope off guard. Pope’s palms began to sweat as he debated whether or not he should lie to the boy. The logical side of him was thinking, What if this was all a prank? He lets him know and then the kooks sabotage them. But on the other hand, Pope had a feeling that maybe JJ was being genuine. After what you had told him the night after the kegger, he had a feeling that this had something to do with you. And as much as he hated to admit it, Pope really did miss his ex best friend. Making up his mind, Pope responds, “Yeah, we do. We’re going on another one tomorrow if you want to come. The Chateau, at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.” 

A huge grin grows on JJ’s face at his words. “Thanks Pope.” Pope only gives him a curt nod before heading down the road. 

JJ wears a victorious smile on his face as he heads back home with a newfound hope that he was one step closer to being where he belongs. 

_____

As JJ approaches the place he once called his second home, he hears you and John B conversing nearby.

“Hey, John B, where’s the cooler?” 

“I already put it out on the deck!” 

To say he was nervous is an understatement. He was fucking terrified to see you all again. He continues walking the path towards the Chateau with clammy palms and a racing heart. Just relax, he tells himself. You’re gonna be fine. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts, JJ takes a deep breath and makes his way to the dock. 

“Wait, I think I left my bag in the…” you trail off as you see JJ approaching the three of you. A frown makes its way across your face and you cross your arms across your chest. “What is he doing here?” 

John B stops what he’s doing and follows your gaze. He nearly drops the line in his hands when he sees JJ. The look on his face reciprocates yours as you both turn to Pope when he says, “I invited him.” 

Both you and John B erupt at that. “What?”

“Without consulting us first?”

“Are you insane?” “Do you not remember what he did?”

Pope puts up both his hands to silence the both of you. “Hey, I think you owe him for what he did for you after that kegger, Y/N.”

With a huff you roll your eyes before storming off to the Chateau. “I’m gonna go grab my bag,” you grumble. 

Marching past the boys, JJ catches a whiff of your lavender scent that he used to love. For a second, he almost found himself reaching out to pull you into a hug, but John B’s voice snaps him back to reality. 

“What are you doing here, man? Haven’t you and the kooks messed with us enough?” 

“I’m here to apologize, John B,” JJ replies sincerely. “To all of you.” 

At that moment you step out of the Chateau and stop in your tracks. 

Glancing from John B to Pope, and finally to you. He takes your silence as a signal to continue. “I know that nothing I say or do now can ever undo the things I’ve done, but just know that I regret it more than words can describe. I came here to make amends with you all.” You visibly roll your eyes as John B scoffs. “Look, you don’t even have to forgive me now or ever. All I’m asking is that you give me another chance before you make up your mind about me.” At the end of his tangent, JJ is out of breath. Though he’s not sure if it’s because of his nerves or talking so much. 

A beat of silence passes amongst the four of you. You share a look with Pope and John B before giving in. With an over dramatic sigh, you say, “Fine. But don’t expect us to be best friends again after this.” You then make your way onto the Pogue with heavy footsteps. John B follows you, giving one last uncertain look towards JJ. 

Pope gives JJ a small smile and a shrug before making his way towards the boat with JJ right at his heels with a hopeful smile on his face. 

The breeze hit your face as you took in a breath of fresh air. Though the tension in the air is impalpable, everyone on the little fishing boat could feel it weighing down on their shoulders. John B is stiff at the wheel with Pope, who’s usually the most talkative of the group during their fishing trips, only speaks up to direct John B to the perfect spot. You just keep your gaze focused on the horizon as you sit criss crossed on the bow. You could feel JJ’s eye’s burning holes through the back of your head. That’s how intently he was staring at you. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he was actually here. Did you miss him? Definitely more than you’d like to admit. But he hurt you. He broke his promise and he hurt you. There is no way you’d let yourself go through that again, no matter how sorry he is. The sound of the engine’s buzzing comes to a sudden stop, pulling you away from your thoughts. The boys move around the boat silently as they properly dock the boat. 

“Do you guys need any help?” JJ’s voice breaks the silence. 

“No. We’re good,” John B harshly responds as he kneels beside you. He roughly throws the anchor into the marsh and you place a gentle hand onto his arm. John B looks to you as you send him a soft smile. 

“It’s only for one day,” you say. “By tomorrow everything will be back to normal.” 

John B nods. “I know, I’m just worried about you,” he replies quietly. “Are you ok?” 

You wince at his question. With a small smile, you answer. “I will be.” 

He smiles back at you in response before walking back towards where Pope and JJ are standing. “I don’t know about you guys, but I think I’m gonna go for a swim. Y/N, wanna come with?” 

You grin as you strip down, leaving you in your bathing suit as you jump into the marsh. The coolness of the water sends a jolt down your spine and for a second, you forget about all you’ve been worrying about. You emerge back to the surface and float on your back for a moment, basking in the sweet serenity of the warm sun on your body and the cool water beneath you. The only thing you could hear are the birds in the distance and John B treading a little ways away from you. 

Pope and JJ sit together in silence on the boat as they watch you and John B enjoying yourselves in the marsh. JJ finds himself smiling at your floating figure. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen you so at peace. Maybe that was his fault, and the thought makes him frown. JJ turns to Pope, but seeing him in his own little world, he turns back around. 

“Did you need something?” Pope says, looking up from his book. 

JJ hesitates for a second, unsure of whether he should ask the question that’s been plaguing his mind since the night he took you home. “Can-can I ask you a question?”

Pope lets out a chuckle. “Well, I mean you just did but go on.” 

“Does she ever talk about me?” 

Pope sighs knowing which direction this conversation is going. Ever since the two of you were young, you and JJ have always been the closest. So he wasn’t all too surprised when JJ asked about you. 

“She does. But that’s all I’ll tell you.” JJ nods in respect before Pope continues, “I think you should talk to her.” 

“I tried that. She wants nothing to do with me.” 

“You still care about her right?” Pope questions, catching JJ off guard. 

“Of course I do. Just because we stopped being friends doesn’t mean I stopped caring about her. Or any of you,” he quickly adds. 

“I know,” Pope responds sincerely. “It just sucks that what you did was a pretty dick move, man.” 

“Yeah… I’m really sorry about that by the way. Seriously, I-” 

Pope cuts him off. “I get it. New life, new expectations right? It just sucks that it went down the way it did.”

Silence falls upon the two as yours and John B’s shouts and laughter draws their attention to the marsh. “You really think I should talk to her?” JJ asks again. 

“I do. And John B too, of course. I know you two were friends way before the rest of us were.” 

“Thanks, Pope,” JJ says. “I really missed you.” 

Pope only responds with a nod. “I’m gonna go join them. You wanna come?” 

JJ dismisses himself. “Nah, I’m good.” 

“Suit yourself,” Pope says before removing his shirt and jumping into the marsh. 

JJ watches his ex best friends from afar with a small smile on his face. The sound of your laughter as the two boys splashed you sent him back to the days when he used to do the same with you. His heart ached at the memory of all the splash wars and chicken fights the four of you used to have. He knew shouldn’t have pity on himself but he can’t help it. Why did he have to let the pressure of being a kook take over what was important to him? What happened to pogues for life? 

A couple more hours pass before you all decide to head back. Most of the boat ride was again, complete silence, minus the multiple times Pope pointed something out to which you or John B would retort. Just being in the presence of his friends again was enough. No words needed. You drop Pope off at his dock before heading back to the Chateau. JJ was about to excuse himself and head home when John B offered him to stay for a while. 

Grabbing two beers from the fridge, John B stops at the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind him. 

“You asked him to stay. Why?” 

John B turns to look at you as you give him a disapproving look. He shrugs in response, closing the fridge door. “He hasn’t done anything to set me off.” 

“Yeah? Well him just being here is setting me off!” 

He sighs as he comes to stand beside you. “Don’t you think he actually wants to make amends? I mean if he really wanted to come over here and mess with us he would’ve already.” 

“It’s not that, John,” you reply, nervously running a hand through your hair. “It’s just… I’m terrified of letting him in again. What happens if I let my guard down and he hurts me all over again? I can’t go through that again, you know I can’t.” 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder, John B gives you a reassuring squeeze. “I know, Y/N/N. I’m not saying you have to go and talk to him now. Just try and be civil with him at least, ok? I know I am.” He gives you a quick kiss on the top of your head. “Pope said to try and give him a chance. And you know-”

“Whatever Pope says, goes,” you reply with a small chuckle. “I know.” 

John B sends you one last smile before heading out to the yard. Taking a seat beside the blond boy he once called a friend, John B hands him the beer bottle which JJ gladly takes. “Sorry, the cheap stuff’s all I’ve got.” 

“I’ll take it. Nothing beats the taste of cold, cheap beer after a long summer’s day,” JJ replies. 

John B raises a hand with an “I’ll drink to that,” before the both of them take a swig from their bottles. John B harshly swallows and asks the question that’s been bothering him ever since JJ showed up at his house earlier that day. “So, Maybank, why the sudden change of heart? You didn’t seem to have a problem dropping us back when you did, so why did you come back now?” 

JJ winces at the bluntness of John B’s question. But he has a point. Why now? He had so many chances to make things right and yet it took him this long to finally do it. JJ takes another sip of his beer before replying. “The kegger. That was the first time I saw Topper lay his hands on you like that. I didn’t know-”

“You didn’t know that your buddies harass us like that all the time?”

“I’ve only ever been around for the verbal attacks. I never knew Topper threw punches at you guys like that. Let alone touch you guys. Rafe and Topper would always parade around, boasting about how they got under your skin all the time. But I always thought it was because of their words. That’s all I really saw anyway. They never told me they got into fights with you all. And then at the kegger, seeing you almost get your skull bashed open and seeing him pounce on Y/N like that-” He pauses as he finds himself reliving the moment all over again. “I’ve never seen that look in Topper’s eyes before. Even when Y/N came back to defend you guys, it was as if he had no problem hurting her. And I-I couldn’t stand it.” 

“So you came back to play hero?” John B asks with an unimpressed look on his face. 

“I came back because I remembered all the times I did the same for you guys. I remembered what it felt like to care about someone again. With Rafe and Topper, all I am is a coward. I only really hang out with them because they make me feel untouchable. Because when I’m with them, I know my parents won’t look at me like a disappointment. When I’m with them, I can be the person my parents want me to be. And at the time, that was all that mattered to me. Only now do I realize how much of a mistake that was. I’m not happy, John B. I gave up so much just to please my parents and yet their opinions of me haven’t changed. No matter what I do, it’s never enough for them. I got tired of sacrificing my happiness to make them happy. It wasn’t worth it in the end.” 

John B is silent for a moment as he takes in everything JJ tells him. He never knew how much JJ went through after the move. He knew his dad was strict on him before marrying his step mom, but he just assumed that after the marriage he lightened up a bit. He didn’t know the pressure on him only doubled. “I’m sorry, man,” is all John B could muster up in response. 

“Yeah me too.” 

_____

You had managed to avoid talking to JJ all day yesterday and you were planning on continuing that streak. So rather than hanging out with the boys today, you decided to visit a friend. 

“Kie!” you exclaim as you walk into The Wreck. You met Kiara Carrera at a ‘Save the Beach’ clean up one summer and since then you constantly visited her at her family’s restaurant. She is the only kook you can tolerate. To you, she’s a kook at first glance, but a pogue at heart. 

“Hey!” she responds, looking up from the counter. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? You don’t work until tomorrow.” 

You walk up to the counter and rest fold your hands together as you send her a smile. “Can’t a gal just visit her friend? Besides, I’ve missed you.” 

“The boys being obnoxious again?” 

“Yeah, something like that…” 

“Well, my shift ends in ten minutes. We can go surf or just hang out after if you want.” 

“I would love that,” you reply. You pull out a chair at one of the empty tables and you find yourself getting lost in your thoughts about a certain blond haired boy once again. Seeing JJ hurt just as bad as the last time you saw him. Your heart longed for your old best friend even if you didn’t want to admit it. After all these years, your heart still jumped out of your chest at the sight of his dimpled smile. You found yourself still swooning over his sun kissed skin and tousled hair. As much as you wanted him back in your life, you couldn’t. Your stubborn mind wouldn’t let you. The boys may have forgiven him, but you aren’t at that point yet. 

“You ready to go?” Kie’s voice breaks through your train of thought. 

“Yup,” you respond, putting on a smile and linking your arm with hers as the two of you head out. 

You and Kiara spend the remainder of the day at the beach before heading back to her place for the night. Despite being a pogue, her parents love having you around. Mr. and Mrs. Carrera understands the hardships that you go through everyday so they try to help you out as much as they can. 

“I’m so glad I decided to hang out with you today instead of the boys. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love them but sometimes they can be a bit much.” 

“I’m glad you decided to hang out today too,” Kiara responds with a smile. “It’s been a minute since we last caught up.” 

A moment of silence passes between the two of you before you speak up again. “Hey Kiara?” 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“What would you do if Sarah Cameron came up to you right now apologizing for what she did to you in the past? Would you forgive her right away?” Kie goes silent again and you open your mouth as you realize you may have just crossed a line. “Sorry, I know how sensitive that subject is. Forget I said anything-”

“No, no, it’s ok,” she cuts you off. She sighs before she continues. “I just wasn’t expecting you to ask that is all.” You hear the bed creak beside you and you turn from your position on your back to your side, where you see Kiara already on her side staring back at you. “I wouldn’t forgive her right away. Not until I’ve seen she has changed at least. Maybe then, I’ll forgive her and try to be friends.” 

“But aren’t you afraid of getting hurt again?” 

Kiara shrugs. “Sure I am. The way I see it is she wouldn’t have gone through all the trouble to prove herself to me if she is only going to hurt me again in the end you know? There’s always that underlying question of ‘What if…’ of course, but you never know if you don’t try. But she hasn’t changed, has she? She’s still the same bitchy, daddy’s girl.” 

You giggle at her comment. You think over her words for a moment and say, “So if she claimed to have changed and came back to make that effort you’d give her that chance even if you’re still upset at her?” 

“I mean sure. As long as she doesn’t prove me right a second time. Why the sudden heart to heart, Y/N/N?” 

You contemplated dodging the question all together, knowing how much Kiara disliked JJ. But she is also your best friend, aside from the boys of course. So you told Kiara everything from the friendship you and JJ used to have, to the day he moved, and finally how the whole group fell apart. 

“I knew there was a reason why I hated him,” Kiara says once you finished your tangent. 

You giggle and playfully roll your eyes. 

Sitting up Kie turns to look at you and sends you a small smile. “In all seriousness though, Y/N, I think you should just follow your instincts. Do what feels right for you.” 

_____

You should’ve known walking home from Kiara’s by yourself the next morning was a mistake. The sound of a car horn going off made you jump and stop in your tracks. Clenching your fists, you continue walking and quicken your pace. The car speeds up and pulls to a stop beside you. You almost break into a full out sprint but the sound of a familiar voice has you frozen in place.

“Hey, Y/N!” 

You sigh and turn to face the driver. “JJ,” you reply, unamused. 

“Do you, uh, do you need a ride home?” 

“I think I’m fine, thanks.” You send him a forced smile and continue walking. 

Despite your decline, JJ continues to follow with his car. “Y/N, please. Just let me take you home. I won’t even say a word to you.” He then mimics the motion of zipping his lips. 

You consider his offer for his moment before taking it, concluding that riding with JJ was better than risking another run in with Topper. With a sigh you open the passenger side door and plop yourself inside the car. It was a nice car. Nothing like John B’s roomy van that constantly smelled like weed. And for that reason, it made you feel out of place. True to his word, JJ stayed quiet as he drove you home. As the two of you sat in silence, you couldn’t help but glance at the boy next to you every now and then. Even after becoming a kook, he still dressed the same. The thought was enough to pull a small smile to your lips which quickly disappeared when you remembered that you were still mad at him. 

“What?” JJ’s voice startles you. 

“What?” 

“What are you thinking about? I can see you looking at me from the corner of my eye.” 

You turn to face the window and softly say, “I thought you said no talking?” 

Letting out an airy laugh, JJ replies, “Right, sorry.” 

A couple more minutes pass before you notice that JJ took a wrong turn. “Hey, hey wait a second. You’re a turn early.”

JJ hums in response. “I know. I need to stop somewhere really quick.” 

“You said you were taking me home not taking a couple of joy stops and then taking me home.” You frown at the boy and he turns to you with an amused smile. 

“It’ll be quick, I swear.” 

“This is the last time I let you drive me home,” you grumble under your breath, annoyed, as JJ pulls up to the side of the road. He parks the car and gets out to open your door. “What the hell? What are you doing?” 

“C’mon. I want to show you something,” he responds, holding out a hand to you. “Y/N, please.” 

You hesitate for a moment when you remember Kie’s advice. So you reluctantly take his hand and follow him. 

JJ is surprised when you take his hand and don’t let go. He was expecting a snarky remark or at least for you to push him away, but you don’t. A smile spreads across JJ’s face at the feeling of his hand in yours. He missed being close to you. Turning back at you with a grin, JJ leads you to a trail. 

“Is this the part where you lure me into the woods and kill me?” you question. 

JJ laughs at your comment. “Don’t tempt me.” 

At that you scoff, trying to stifle a smile. Well, this is going to be interesting.

_____

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[kashimos-hajime]

fragrance | a.h.

summary: Plato said, “The god of love lives in a state of need. It is a need. It is an urge. It is a homeostatic imbalance. Like hunger and thirst, it's almost impossible to stamp out.”

WARNINGS: LMAO SMUT (18+), oral (m!receiving), swearing, drinking, nervous and awkward y/n and hotch heehee pairing: college!aaron hotchner x fem!reader word count: 4.8k

a/n: lmao so i watched a tiktok of THAT SCENE in love and human remains so i am legally obligated to write what inspired me. ok but @venusbarnes,,, it happened,,,

part of the bitter end universe but not required beforehand to read this. takes place in their second year of college

In retrospect, you know you’re freaking out over nothing.

You just showered, changed outfits twice, tried to fix your hair, inspected your makeup constantly since you’ve finished, and tried to figure out a way to call it off to pass the time.

Why are you even worried? Ever since you’ve gotten off the plane, which, in itself, is a step you cannot backtrack since you are merely a college student with limited funds, your knees have been weak and you feel like you don’t really have a stomach.

Why? It’ll be fine.

You’ve been over Aaron for two-and-some-months years, now. The distance did you good, did you both good. Namely, you’re quite damn sure you don’t feel anything for him anymore besides the occasional flicker of irritation, the excited burst in your stomach, the absolute terror of seeing him again.

How has he changed? It feels like it’s been so long.

You glance at the clock.

9:55

You said 10AM. You have five minutes at the most to get yourself together and just run down the staircase, shove yourself into his presence before your nerves can tell you to turn back. Taking a deep breath, you look at your reflection in the mirror one last time before heading to the desk and grabbing your wrist watch. It’s worn down leather is soft to your touch and you feel an overwhelming sense of calm overtake you.

This will be fine.

As you fasten it to your wrist, you glance at the face. Time seems to tick by slower as you pull on your ankle boots, swipe a finger over your lip, and grab your room key. As you descend the cold stairwell, memories grasp at your consciousness, tease you, but you push them away and instead focus on putting on foot in front of the other, focus on gathering the courage to stand in front of him again.

Before you know it, you’re opening the door and walking over to the pacing figure you only know to be your best friend. His hair is still long, but he’s wearing a leather jacket, so that’s new, and he’s frowning to himself.

And it makes you smile, because that’s him. Aaron Hotchner, master frowner, broody boy. His hair is still long, his eyes still so dark. He hasn’t changed.

God, what will you say to make him laugh?

“What’s the deal with the jacket, George?” you say without thinking.

“George? And here I thought I was John,” he replies just as quickly, matching your tone and your entire heart lurches into your throat as your smile grows stiffly.

Crap. 

And that’s when you realize that, quite frankly, that convincing yourself that you’re over Aaron Hotchner is going to be a lot harder than it looked at first.

You’re fighting the urge to let the whole facade drop, but you can’t because this is Aaron, your best friend you haven’t seen in forever and although you’re so fucking happy to see him, you know everything is easier said than done.

He’s just your best friend, and you’re… you’re… feeling great. Your stomach is a bundle of nerves but that’s because you’re excited to spend time with him. Right?

“So, where to?” you ask, feeling quite exposed as he looks at you strangely. “I’m starving,” you say, an overwhelming need to explain causing word vomit to spill out of your mouth, “so, I was thinking we could get some breakfast, first. I’m in the mood for anything really.”

“Oh,” he says. “I have a place in mind.”

“O-okay. Lead the way, then. It’s kinda chilly out, isn’t it?”

“Uh, yeah. Do you needa grab another coat?” he asks as you step closer and they begin to walk to the door. He opens it for you and as you slip past him, your entire system shuts down. Your mind heads straight for the gutter, vivid images, voices, feelings from your dream flashing through your head.

Cheap beer, smoke, sweat, and a cologne you can’t forget.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“N-no. I’m okay. Are you, uhm, are you going to be okay in just that jacket? It looks great, by the way.” Are your hands shaking or is that just the swelling throat and the hard lump in your gut’s fault?

Shit. Holy shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT.

“Thanks, and, uh, no. I’m okay. Are you okay?”

You nod and smile shakily. “Great. It’s just… I’m really glad to see you.”

He stops for a moment, stares as if he knows or maybe you just feel naked in your own skin, and then matches your timid smile. “I’m really happy to see you too.”

Right. What did you say again about nerves?

[TWENTY HOURS EARLIER]

“You guys better behave,” Aaron sighs. “I’m not gonna be responsible if I have to deck Carter.”

“Woah there, Hotch,” his roommate comments, sliding off his bed and slinging an around his shoulders. “You have a girlfriend.”

“We’re on a break, actually.”

“I thought you don’t believe in breaks.”

“Well, we’re just talking things out with the long distance thing. It’s not like when she was in high school. She just needs to adjust to her first year, and we’re still talking. So, it’s more like… an intermission before we resume after mid-terms.”

“So, you’re single.”

“Technically, but I’m also not looking,” he retorts, just in case his roommate tries to set something up behind his back, but the guy merely shrugs.

“Whatever you say, Hotch-o.”

He scowls, getting up and running a hand through his hair before grabbing his jacket off the hook. “I’m just trying to say that Y/N’s been there for me since before you guys and before Haley.”

“I get it,” his roommate, named Earl, says as he flips the collar of his varsity jacket and grabs the room key. “She’s like a sister to you, right?” Aaron doesn’t say anything to that and Earl doesn’t prod him any further as he grabs his backpack and slings it onto his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Hotch. I’ll spread the word to the guys. They won’t try anything.”

“Yeah, thanks, Earl.”

“I’m heading to class, but it’s the bar tonight, right? You’ll pick her up from the airport?”

“Yeah.” The door opens and closes with a click and Aaron lets out a sigh, turning away from the mirror so he can stop pretending he’s trying to fix whatever Earl thought was wrong with his appearance. He just wanted to stay busy so his friend could leave him alone to his messy thoughts.

He had received your last letter on Monday, confirming your flight for the Thanksgiving weekend. You’d be here with him and his friends for three days.

It wasn’t his idea, nor yours. Sort of like… a mutual epistolary understanding that enough is enough and one of them should just… go.

You had volunteered for that. You had always wanted to see Harvard’s gorgeous campus, according to your last letter.

Aaron runs a hand through his hair and sighs. He has one day off to catch up on the work assigned, get ahead of the reading, and just relax before his friends drag him off to hang out until the sun rises for an entire weekend. He’s sure you’ll love it. You’ve always loved staying out at night where it’s light, watching the sunrise and going to sleep to it.

Despite everything, you enjoy the solitude the night, the contemplative silence of it. Just like him. 

He can’t wait to see you again.

Sitting in the RA office and watching time tick by, he can’t help but feel like something is chaining him down. A heavy weight sits between his shoulders and he stares at the clock for what feels like a short eternity, unable to focus.

The day is slow in its passing, and a growing, unwanted hollowness begins to fill his soul as he half-heartedly finishes his criminal causation theory assignment, reviews for the quiz on Tuesday, and reads the next chapter on the foundations of the criminal justice system. He doesn’t really pay attention to any of it, though, and he feels like his head is stuffed with cotton as he gets up for the first time in hours and stretches, glancing at the time.

Your plane is supposed to land at 6:30.

It’s 6:00 now, and he was supposed to eat dinner before going to pick you up.

Shit. He’ll just have to eat at the bar.

Gathering his books and papers into his bag, he slings it onto his shoulder, trying to ignore the cold sweat clamming his hands up just as the phone in the RA office rings. It’s so jarring her starts, turning to the device and his heart pounds in his throat as he goes to grab it. Duty to the job means he has to, even if he might be late. You’ll understand, right?

“Hello, Resident Assistant speaking,” he says with a sigh.

“Hey.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Student Services was kind enough to reroute me.” A car beeps behind you and he frowns, holding the phone closer to his ear as he adjusts the strap on his shoulder to sit more firmly. “I’m calling from an airport payphone, but bad news. My flight got delayed, so I can’t come to the bar tonight. I’ll be arriving, like, dead in the morning. Two or three AM.”

“Damn. The boys will miss meeting you,” he says, unable to help the unhappy but forced smile. It comes across as a grimace but he hopes you appreciate the effort. It’s what you’d say if you were here.

“The boys?” you echo, amused. “Well then, tell the boys that they’ll have to wait until morning.” More seriously: “I’m really sorry, Aaron. I was so excited to see you tonight.”

“Yeah, me too. It’s—it’s okay. Don’t worry about it, Sunflower.”

“Sunflower?” you repeat and Aaron feels his throat shrink to the diameter of a needle. “You don’t call me that unless you’re genuinely sorry about something bad. Like, death-bad.” Then, a bright laugh that shouldn’t bat away the dreary disposition overcoming him, but it does. “Aaron, it’s not that important—just one night. Look, let’s meet up at 10AM in the hotel lobby tomorrow morning and make up for it, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. See you in a bit, Hopscotch.”

“Bye.”

He heads to his room, your voice echoing in his head. Freshening up with a splash of cold water and a rake of a comb through his hair, he explains the situation to Earl as they head down to the bar near campus where some of the other guys are already drinking.

“That’s too bad. Would’ve been nice to meet her.”

“Tomorrow, Earl. She isn’t cancelling.”

“I know, but y’know, it would’ve been fun to beat her in darts.”

“You’re awful at darts.”

“Bigger opponent pool. C’mon, cheer up, Hotch. It’s just a delayed flight, you said so yourself.” More grumpy silence. “Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up. First shots are on me.”

.

His cheeks flushed with heat, he grabs at the shot blindly and throws it back, laughing as his friends get on the dance floor. The bar seems to haze before him. The darkness is pierced by blue lights and red as the shadowed patrons swing to and fro on the floor. Everything is gauzy, edges blurred as the lights flicker and filter through the crowd. Aaron slouches against the booth, smirking at the way Earl’s trying to lay the moves on a girl who merely walks away and he flashes a sympathetic thumbs up before his friend simply rejoins the rest of the guys on the floor.

Everyone had chipped in to buy him round after round in order to get him to loosen up, and it’s hard to admit, but it’s worked. Everything is ethereal, and he feels like he’s floating through life.

He wants to dance, but he doesn’t think he can stand on his own two feet, to be honest. His entire world is tipped and the silly smile on his face isn’t going to disappear any time soon as a figure makes her way through the crowd, making her way towards him. It catches his eye, the way she moves around people, keeps her head held up.

He can’t quite see her face but even then, he knows that he knows her.

“What are you doing here?” he asks before he can stop himself, like he isn’t in control of his mouth. He gapes as the woman sits down beside him. Her skin smells like sweet fruit and the sting of tequila as she slings an arm around his neck, and his entire stomach flips as she leans over, her arm bent and her fingers playing with the hair by his ear. “You’re not… you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Why not?” she asks, twirling hair around her finger as she gently trails her other hand down his chest. “You don’t want me here?”

“No, no, I’ve missed you, I just—” Her palm runs lower, over his stomach and further. His head whips towards her and he catches the sweet, dulcet notes of warm vanilla spice shampoo. It calms him, sweet in his sinuses and he watches her indistinguishable face. Despite not seeing quite clearly, he knows she’s beautiful with an unintentionally seductive smile, a tentative charm to her movements.

The hand stops and a heat burns through his chest, following the trail she’d carved into him and he feels blood drain from his head so viciously it leaves him lightheaded.

“Just what?” she asks quietly, yet still so loudly over the pub’s pounding music and he groans softly, head tilting back.

“Shit. I just didn’t expect you here. I should introduce you to my friends—” He wants to get up but finds his entire body moving through molasses. He can barely lift a finger and, through the blurred streams of the conscious and the subconscious, he knows he doesn’t really want to.

He doesn’t want to share.

“Oh, then let’s go.” Her hand lifts but, like a flash of lightning, his fingers wrap around her wrist and keep her firmly against him. “Aaron.” Chastising this time, like he’s a housecat, and she, the exasperated owner. Fingers thread through his hair as he grins at the woman.

“I’m not keen on sharing you right now,” he admits, eyes falling to lips that press into a wondrous smile. “I don’t feel keen on sharing you ever.”

“Is that a fact?” she asks, and he nods, his nose brushing against hers as she leans down to kiss him. Her mouth is warm ecstasy, like cider on a cold winter day that burns through his blood, and his heart is beating everywhere at once—in his throat, in his fingers, between his legs. Fingers card through his hair as his hand finds the curve of a hip and he pulls.

Immediately, as if sensing his intentions before he even thinks it, the woman swings a leg over his hip and straddles him, the dress riding up luxurious thighs and he chuckles to himself as her hands find his neck, thumbs brushing over the sharp cut of his jaw. Her mouth opens against his, breathing into the next ferocious kiss again as his hands trace the shape of her, the swell of her legs, the cool heat of her skin against his burning hands.

“What do you want from me, Aaron?” she whispers, leaning in close enough that he can feel her lips against the shell of his ear, and then down his neck. He gasps, breath catching in his throat as her hands gently squeeze his throat as if reminding him of her previous question but he can’t quite speak. She kisses down past his collarbones, pulls down the neck of his shirt teasingly and peppers kisses to the skin that she can reach. Her fingers are pressing into his pulsepoint, the other hand travelling down his waist again and he knows she can feel it, the hard bulge pressing up between her legs. 

She trails back up again, her kisses teasing the corner of his mouth and he turns, trying to catch the elusive minx only to delight in her light laughter when she pulls back.

“Tease,” he mumbles, eyes shut tight and only then do her lips find his again just as fingers pull at his belt buckle and he sucks in a breath as she glances down with him, curiously running her knuckles gently along the curve of it. His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows down his gasp and he hears her chuckle. As if he’s a mere bystander to his own actions, Aaron watches his hands trail up the sides of her and slowly find purchase on her shoulders.

With the gentlest of pressure, he pushes down, and it’s like she melts between his hands, legs sliding, entire body sinking as his legs open wider to welcome her. Her breath is warm as she unzips his jeans, fingers prying his boxers down until they brush against it, pulsing and hard against his abdomen.

“Jesus,” she whispers but he hears it so clearly, her breath teasing the tip as fingers wrap around his dick. A strong, warm tongue follows, from the bottom to the tip, tracing the vein and every single ounce of oxygen leaves his body when she goes down on him, endlessly warm and wet. Hands wrap around what isn’t in her mouth and his fingers find her scalp, grabbing fistfuls of hair as his head hits the wall behind him.

Swallowing tightly, a lopsided smirk crosses his face and he lets out a soft sigh when she tilts her head, takes him in until she’s gagging on it. His hips twitch but a hand against his pelvis stalls him, a firm pressure that makes him open his eyes and look down to see her already staring back at him. Eyes dark, lips shining in what light there is, he nearly loses it right there as she swallows him down, making his entire body clench. His jaw tight, he lets out a hissed moan and the hand not on her head grabs his thigh, trying to stave off the desire to fuck her mouth.

The bass beat of the pub beats in his head as the hand on his hip finds the hand on his thigh, traces the tense veins along the back as her head slowly draws up, teeth grazing, tongue flat against his cock.

And then, down again, heavy breaths against his navel through the nose, and he’s in fucking bliss as the woman just goes on and on, deeper and deeper and when she gags, it almost makes him lose his already ill-tempered control because her fingers dig into the back of his hand, the other one squeezes the base of his cock, and stars explode behind his eyes as he chuckles breathlessly, blindly to the ceiling.

A ringing splinters through his skull as he groans, the need to thrust growing too powerful but she squeezes his hand, telling him to stay still without ever lifting her mouth off his cock. He can hear it, the sounds of her wet mouth rising and falling, sucking and licking and fuck, if he’s not going to come down her throat—

Her tongue drags along the underside of his cock as she pulls away, hollowing out her cheeks and dragging her fingers up his painfully hard erection, through the wet slick her mouth left behind and she pulls herself up, back bending underneath his hand, chest pressed flush against his and he can taste her again; the sweetness of vanilla, the sweat the pub brings all its occupants, the desire that fizzles so wantonly against his tongue.

“Am I still teasing?” she asks, lips brushing against his chin before he’s lifting his head again. Her hands run over his chest, find the planes of his shoulders, the cord of his neck, and he chuckles, squeezing his waist as she climbs into his lap again, sits squarely so that his erection rubs against her stomach. He bites back a groan and her smirk tells him all he needs to know.

“Seeing as you didn’t let me finish…” he trails off, just as humorous and she laughs, mouth ghosting his, and he almost reaches for it before she’s drawing back, always just out of reach. Never his. Never. “C’mere.”

“You’re no fun,” she mutters, but her smile betrays her faux displeasure and as his hands down and under her dress, skirting along the waistband of lacey panties, he chuckles huskily. “I love you, you know that?”

“I know. And do you know how much I want you? How much… how much I need you?” His fingers hook on the waistband and begin to tug just as she cups his face and leans down. His eyes flutter shut and everything seems to melt away as her breath tickles his nose and he grins, pulling down, down, down…

“You could show me, if you’d like…”

Her laughter is the only thing he can hear. Well, that and…

And that ringing—

Holy shit, what is that ringing?

Opening his eyes, there is nothing. Reaching blindly in the darkness, his hand collides with his alarm clock and he slaps the button, turning it off as he groans, turning the digital numbers towards him.

5:45AM

When did he get back? God, his head is pounding, and… he has to get up. Shit. His thoughts are a disorganized mess as he gets up, throwing off the blankets and it’s only then he’s painfully aware that he got… more than excited about his dream.

His dream that’s fading from his memory the longer he’s awake that he can barely remember any of it. Iit was at the bar last night? When did he even get back to the dorm? 

Swinging his legs off the bed, he flicks the light on the nightstand, spotting a glass of water with a dissolving alka selzter tablet and a note. Grabbing it, he squints against the light as he reads the messy, uneven scrawl.

Stayed by your side all night because you sulked and got hammered. Like blackout drunk. Even outdrank me, buddy, which is fuckin impressive.

Wake me up for breakfast. I’m drunk.

Goodnight. And you’re welcome.

-E

Shaking his head, he downs the water despite how much his head throbs at the movement before he gets up and awkwardly palms the front of his boxers, trying to ignore how much it physically hurts that he’s not doing anything about it.

He needs to shower and take care of this.

Grabbing new clothes, Aaron glances at his snoring roommate and curses his routine of waking up so damn early. He collects his toiletries, and as he heads for the shower, he tries to think back on his dream, but it’s dissipating quicker by the second.

It was definitely at the bar, he thinks. Something about… he doesn’t know but something smelled and tasted sweet. What was I even doing at the bar?

Well, by the erection against his thigh, it’s safe to assume what he was dreaming about.

The question is more about the who.

.

Your eyes fly open and you lurch up on your bed.

Your whole body is burning as the remaining wisps of your dream begin to fade and you glance around yourself, disoriented. You could’ve sworn you weren’t in your bedroom for a second, but as you glance around, you know you are. You’re no longer in that dark place with blue lights that swung, figures blurry. That someone who was crouched in front of you, you think, is gone and his hands which had pulled your legs apart with gentle hesitation hadn’t left scorch marks, but they might as well have.

The sensation still lingers.

God, it feels like you haven’t slept a wink and as you slowly wake, your body rebooting, you become more filled with dread. Sighing heavily, you rub at your eyes and touch your cheeks, trying to remember what you did before sleeping.

I showered, went straight to bed. Didn’t go out… then… What’s happening? What was I even dreaming about?

It’s only then you become acutely aware of between your legs. The soaked, uncomfortable sensation, the strange tightness of your thighs.

Holy fuck. And about who?

Running a hand over the cold sheets, you shiver and get up, grabbing the unopened complimentary mini bottle of water you’d gotten from the plane from your bag.

As soon as you take one sip, you’re chugging it down, trying to alleviate the sweat gathering at the nape of your neck, slipping down your back. You feel oily and strangely empty, your heart racing as you toss the empty plastic into the trash can and head back towards the bed, reaching blindly for the light switch. Turning it on, you glance at the clock. 5:47 in the morning.

Charming.

In less than five hours, you’ll have to be heading down to the lobby and facing your best friend.

Why does that thought suddenly fill you with a terrible concoction of nerves, nausea, and cold shivers?

Trying to grasp the last remnants of your dream, you head for the bathroom to splash some water on your face and change your underwear, too bone-dead tired to even think about showering. Then, you head back to bed to try to get some sleep, but the heat seems to be more than skin-deep because despite the amount of splashing and patting of freezing water against an exhausted face, a terrible, sinking feeling twists your gut, making your knees weak.

What on Earth were you even dreaming about? You can’t even remember now except you feel utterly exhausted in the wake of it and the only hint of the content is the slick between your thighs.

Your sleep-addled brain eventually convinces any part of you still awake to just try to sleep, and as you slip into the covers, the faint but entirely unique scent of cologne, beer and smoke clings to your senses.

[THE PRESENT]

Really, it should be okay. 

The hotel isn’t too sketchy, the lobby smells vaguely of lavender and cinnamon from one of those bath shop candles, and he shouldn’t be worried.

Why is he worried? His guts have been in knots since he’s woken up, his head feels like it's been dunked in water for hours and everything is swimming as he sits in the lobby, his palms sweating. Maybe it’s the hangover, but it feels heavier than that. Yes, his head is hammering, but there’s a strange upset in his gut, too.

Must’ve been something about that dream he can’t quite place. Just thinking about it makes his head beat even harder.

But, you had said ten o’clock.

Ten o’clock.

He looks at his wrist watch.

9:57

Time seems to be passing so slowly that he’s not sure the seconds even tick by as his knee begins to jiggle, his hands run flat against his jeans. When he can’t take the nervous ticking inside his chest, he gets up to pace, eyes darting to the staircase where you’d be coming down from.

Is he nervous about seeing you or excited? Is it both? Neither? Something else?

Aaron thinks he’s going to throw up. What if it’s awkward? After all, years between the last visit and now—in the summer, somehow they always just miss each other or there’s money problems or some other plan—things are bound to change.

It’s nerves. It has to be.

The door opens and he turns around to see you there, walking over to him with a dark jacket over a green shirt. It clashes wonderfully and you’re smiling like the sun lives in your heart and you’re smiling at him.

“What’s the deal with the jacket, George?” you tease, gesturing to his leather jacket.

“George?” he repeats easily, too easily. An overwhelming flood in his chest and you arch an eyebrow, grinning still, and it’s like no time has passed at all. “And here I thought I was John.” Your smile only grows and he feels like he can’t breathe and that’s when he knows he’s fucked.

As you adjust your own jacket, compliment him on his, and ask where he wants to go for breakfast, Aaron can’t help the terrible ache in his chest.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Shit.

He opens the door and you walk by, the smell of shampoo invading his entire space and he reels back, blinking. His breath hitches, his entire body stiffens.

Warm vanilla spice.

Oh, shit.

a/n: so, uh, sex dreams for the win? to be decided ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) dont forget to reblog if u liked loves ❤️ 

TAGS: @withyoutilltheendofthismess @thebriarpatch @joemazzello-imagines @thisiscalm-andits-doctor @sera-wonderland @pity-mee @duvetsandpillows @roses-and-grasses @stainedpomegranatelips @angelsbabey @sansonnette @xxlovingfandomsxx @rachelxwayne @kingandrear @simsvetements @emery--nicole--morrison​ @genevievedarcygranger @mooneylupinblack​ @sercyan​ @forgottenword

#fic: bitter end #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch fanfiction #hotch fic #hotch imagine #hotch x reader smut #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds smut #my writing

[sodasback]

Dresses with Pockets - For You Series

JJ Maybank x Allie Routledge (John B’s Younger Sister)

Allie was standing in the hallway of the school auditorium. Everyone was inside watching the senior awards ceremony, but the younger Routledge needed to take a breath. The pressure of her future was getting heavier and heavier with every scholarship presentation and thank you speech and it was all of a sudden taking the air out of her lungs.

JJ having a reckless sense of optimism made a bad habit of being late to things, so he was walking through the double doors into the auditorium hallway with flowers in hand (albeit, they were a cheap bouquet from the grocery store and a little wilted because they were a couple days old and even cheaper that way, but still).

He stopped in his tracks as he saw Allie. She was smoothing her sweaty hands down the dress Sarah helped her pick out for the occasion.  

JJ couldn’t hold back the first thought that entered his mind, “Woah.”

Allie turned to see him and instantly fell more relaxed as she broke into a smile. Even though they had pretty much been avoiding each other like the plague after the almost kiss in her room after the party, in this moment, she was just relieved to see her calming and charming JJ there while she was low-key freaking out.

“You... look.. reaalllyy pretty.” JJ said slowly as he drank in her appearance.

Allie smiled and blushed, but then looked at him skeptically.

“Are you messing with me?” She asked.

“What?” JJ let out a little laugh, “Why would you think I’m messing with you?”

“Umm because you always do. And if you really thought I looked good, you’d just blurt out that I look hot. Or you usually just check me out, thinking I don’t notice and then you act moody all night when other guys look at me.”

“I never do that.” JJ said confidently.

“Mhmm, sure ya don’t.” Allie nodded reassuringly.

“And you don’t look hot. You’re drop-dead gorgeous.” JJ told her in a way that made her never want to doubt herself again. She blushed and had to blink away the tiny tears that threatened to spill out from the warm and fuzzy feelings she was getting.

“Are those for me?” she nodded to the flowers in his hand.

“No, actually they’re for John B.” JJ said convincingly, “You should know Allison, these senior ceremonies and shit are mostly for the parents of the graduates, so I figured I’d get him flowers. ....yes, dork they’re for you.” He said, handing them to Allie and watching the smile grow on her face as she closed her eyes and buried her nose in them.

“They’re beautiful. Thanks J.” She said smiling and stepping forward to wrap her arms around his waist. He wrapped around her shoulders, he let out a relieved exhale in the embrace.

But then they both turned their heads and let go of each other when a teacher stuck her head out, “Allison, you’re next!”

-

After they described the alumni scholarship Allison had received from the high school they announced her name. JJ, John B. and Pope (who was back home from college for a couple days) stood and clapped and cheered and whooped and caused a whole scene as Allie stood and walked to the podium to collect the certificate. She looked at the 3 boys from the stage with a look pleading them to sit down and stop carrying on. They looked around, pretending to be embarrassed and mumbling sarcastic ‘sorry’s’ and one last little “whoop” from JJ before they sat back down and Allie shook her head at her embarrassing family.

The announcer then went on to list Allison’s accolades and accomplishments that led to her being chosen for the biggest alumni scholarship the high school offered. Later on, one of the parents was hosting a reception/after party at their house and all the seniors and their families were invited.

While there, John B. and JJ found themselves sipping beers and looking fondly at Allie across the yard. They both laughed as they watched Allie show off to her girlfriends that her dress had pockets.

“Girls always love when their dress has pockets huh?”

John B laughed in agreement, “Yeah dude, she won’t shut up about them. I’m glad Sarah was able to help her with a new dress for all these ceremonies and graduation and stuff; it looks good on her.”

“Are you kidding? She’s frickin stunning.” JJ couldn’t stop himself from admitting. John B. was quiet for a second. He thought something was changing between his best friend and his sister lately and he just wanted to make sure him and JJ were on the same page.

“Hey J?” He asked turning to look at the blonde who was still admiring the younger Routledge laughing with her friends.

“Yeah?”

“You know Allie’s getting ready to graduate right? And she’s hasn’t decided for sure what school she’s going to yet. But it’s looking like Berkeley.”

JJ was a little confused by his friend’s tone, “Yeah, I was there when we were all talking about it the other day.”

“Did you know she’s been talking about not going to college at all?” John B asked.

“I mean, yeah, a few weeks ago she talked about like saying fuck it and doing something else, but she’s just stressed dude.” JJ thought maybe John B. just needed some reassurance.

“Yeah, well she’s been saying it more lately and talking about maybe staying here to figure things out too. But J, I don’t want her to get stuck here like we are. I want her to go to Berkeley and get the opportunity to have more ... better.”

“Yeah, man. I do too.” JJ agreed, still hesitant about where this conversation was going.

“And I don’t want anything ...or anyone to tempt her into not going to Berkeley, ....whether they mean to or not.” John B said slowly. JJ physically turned to look at him now.

“Bro what are you saying?” JJ asked.

“You know you can’t date her right?” John B finally said.

“Where the fuck did that come from?!”

“I see the way you guys are with each other, J! But you can’t. If you date her, you’re just gonna confuse her and pull her into your Peter Pan fantasy of running away to Yucatan or some shit and then break her heart when the next hot touron comes along.”

JJ’s face contorted into from confusion to anger as he let out a humorless laugh, “Wow JB, is that what you really think of me? You really think I’d do that to her? To you?!”

“Okay, calm down. It came out harsher than I meant it. But I’m just saying I know we’ve all joked about you and Allie before, but it just can’t happen okay?”

“Yeah, I heard you John B.” He stated finishing his beer and starting to turn away.

“JJ wait” John B sighed, knowing he fucked up.

“Tell Allie I said congrats.” He said as he kept walking. Allie noticed JJ leaving and ran over to him.

“Hey loser! You ditching this party without taking me with you?” She flirted, not registering his body language.

He chuckled disingenuously, “Yeah, it’s uhhh, time for me to go.”

Allie looked at him with a confused smile, “What? What do you mean?”

“I need to go home Allie.” JJ said.

“Okay, yeah let’s go back, I’m over this party anyway. Where’s John B.?”

“No Allie. Not the chateau. I need to go to my house for a little bit.”

Allie’s face dropped. “What? No, you don’t J. Wait until he leaves for that fishing trip this weekend. Don’t go back tonight.” Allie was practically begging him.

“It’s fine Allie, I need some space to think about stuff.” JJ said with finality before nodding back to the party, “Go have fun and celebrate your scholarship big shot.”

“Think about what? JJ-” Allie started, but JJ interrupted her.

“Hey Allie? I’m really proud of you.” JJ smiled softly and Allie just looked at him pouting at this whole interaction as JJ turned and left.

Allie could only think of one thing that could have possibly happened between JJ cheering for her on stage and being happy to now “needing some space to think” and going home for the first time in months when his dad was for sure there.

“What the fuck did you to him?!” Allie came storming over to  John B, who instantly grabbed his sister by the shoulders and ushered her outside to the front yard away from the house, knowing she was gonna cause a scene. “What the fuck John?!” She brushed his hands off of her waiting for him to explain.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

“Not before you tell me what happened between you and JJ to make him want to go back to his dad’s house tonight!”

“Fuck!” John B closed his eyes and cursed.

“Whatever happened, you need to find him and fix it right now. If JJ comes back with bruises, it’s your fucking fault!” Allie yelled, before getting in the twinkie and driving away, leaving John B with his hands on his head in the driveway.

“Fuck!” he yelled again. Before jogging in the direction of JJ’s house.

-

While walking home, JJ did a lot of thinking. He knew Allie had quite a crush on him and he knew that he had a lot of influence on her. Most just didn’t know how smitten he was with her or how much he admired her. Regardless, he wanted the same things John B. wanted. He wanted Allie to go off to college and get that experience and he’d be damned, if he was the thing to hold her back or sway her in any way. As harsh as John B had been, he knew he was just watching out for the girl they both just wanted to protect.

So instead of going to his house, JJ went home to the Chateau, knowing he was just going to ignore all the feelings he had for Allison Routledge. JJ had been sitting on the couch, alone in the Chateau for a while. He vaguely wondered where the 2 Routledge siblings had gone, since the Twinkie was in the driveway.

All of a sudden, John B came bursting through the door.

“Fuck, Allie! He’s not home! I couldn’t find him! I’m gonna go drive-”

“Right here dude.” JJ said standing up from the couch.

“Oh thank god!” John B practically tackled JJ in a huge.

“Jeez man”

“I’m so sorry dude. I was out of line. I know you’d never hurt her or me I just- I want her to- I just-”

“Relax bro.” JJ chuckled as the pulled away to look at each other, “I know. I want the same things you want. I’m not trying to date Allie okay? She’s like my little sister too. I promise.”

“Alright, thanks man. And please please no matter how much I piss you off, please don’t go back to your dads if you don’t have to. It doesn’t matter what we do or say, this is your home, got it?”

“I know.” Is all JJ said and they hugged one more time.

Taglist: @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @moonrisebeach @hernameisnoell @moniamaybank @railmerafe @phantompogues @jeyramarie @gabiatthedisco @baby-cakes-98 @lemur46 @lexieee304 @jjpogueprincess @imjustanothernerd

#JJ Maybank #JJ Maybank x OC #JJ Maybank x Allie Routledge #For You Series #Outer Banks #OBX #outer banks imagine #JJ Maybank imagine