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babydollmarauders · 11 months

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YOU’RE LOSING ME — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n is struggling to grasp the fact that she and jack have grown apart amongst his newfound nhl stardom

warnings: angst, neglectful jack, dying relationship, long intro (so sorry), alcohol

specific lyrics: “remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light. now, i just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time” and “how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'?” and “how long could we be a sad song 'til we were too far gone to bring back to life? i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier. fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me. i'm the best thing at this party (you're losin' me). and i wouldn't marry me either; a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her. and I'm fadin', thinkin' "do something, babe, say something" "lose something, babe, risk something" "choose something, babe, i got nothing" (i got nothing) "to believe, unless you're choosin' me"”

notes: idk how i feel about this. it’s been awhile since i’ve written an actual fic so i think my writing is a little rusty. there will be no part 2 to this one! i know y’all love when i make part 2’s to my angsty fics, but some fics i just wanna keep as angst and this is one of them <3

maybe we were naïve. young and innocent in thinking our love would last forever. that we could withstand everything the universe had to throw at us.

i could give us this; we did last past Jack’s rookie year. but maybe that’s when things started breaking. i couldn’t tell you for certain.

when we moved to New Jersey, we were going on three years into our relationship. we thought that milestone of three years meant we would be together forever.

we went apartment hunting, i opted to go into online schooling rather than on campus classes, late night whispers consisted of marriage and future children.

now, the last time i even brought up marriage, he told me he wasn’t ready for that. that he was at the peak of his career and didn’t want to spend time that could be used bettering his skills, to plan a wedding.

i spend most nights in an empty bed, the cold sheets serving as a harsh reminder that my boyfriend would rather go out with his teammates than spend time with me.

rather than the past early mornings of soft loving stares and cuddling on his bare chest, i now spend my mornings glaring towards my boyfriends sleeping figure; trying to calculate when he may have gotten home after i had already fallen asleep.

seven years. one-third of my life, spent with Jack.

no one ever said love would be easy; but no one ever told me it would be this hard either.

the mug in my hands is at risk of breaking from my grip, the coffee inside having gone cold. a cruel euphemism to how our relationship has cooled. the burning fire that it once was, now fizzling to dying sparks. but i still hold onto what’s left, because i’m not sure i know how to live a life without him anymore.

i sit curled up on the sofa, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the New Jersey skyline. i still remember the day that Jack and i decided on this apartment, this room was a deciding factor. we loved the lighting, the way the sun shone through the windows and cast a golden haze over the rest of the apartment.

now i sit in the darkness nearly every night, wondering if this was the end of our relationship; if it’s time.

the worst part is that we keep going on. keep playing house. pretending that our relationship is still as happy as it once was.

‘i love you’s never became a rarity, still uttered past our lips multiple times a day. but i know his words only hold an empty promise now.

how can he say he loves me when he can’t tell that this relationship is killing me?

that this dynamic of our relationship becoming a chore has slowly broken me down?

our life is robotic now. we wake up, he leaves for practice, i stay home, i do school, he comes home for a pre-game nap, he leaves for a game, i still stay home, i go to bed, he comes home, repeat.

even worse when he’s away. what once started as facetime calls whenever he was free on a roadie, slowly died until it’s nothing but a few measly unsubstantial texts.

at first i thought maybe we were just going through a rough patch, that we would get through this, but now i fear we won’t.

***

my eyes track my boyfriend at the crowded rooftop bar as i nod my head, only half paying attention to what Ryleigh says.

Nico’s surprise party has been a success. for Nico, at least.

i, selfishly, thought i would use this party as an opportunity to grasp Jack’s attention. i wore the dress that he used to say was his favorite, but not once did he mention it. i curled my hair because i knew how much he loved it, but he didn’t compliment it how he usually does. i dolled myself up in hopes that it would glue him to my side. maybe even spark that possessiveness he used to hold for me.

but instead, all i got was a measly and empty ‘hey babe, you look nice.’ when i arrived, before he chased Dawson down to discuss some new bar he wanted to check out after their next win.

i spent the next hour following him around like a lost puppy, standing by his side as he spoke to his teammates. if he hadn’t had his hand resting on my lower back, i would’ve thought he forgot i was there. but somehow being forgotten would’ve felt better than being ignored.

i’m the best thing at this party, or at least i should be to him, and he barely spared me a second glance.

eventually, i saltily left to find the other wives and girlfriends. for the past three hours now, i sit with Ryleigh and Darya. Ryleigh is currently recounting she and Dawson’s date night last night.

the party has been dwindling down, our group of people among the bar slowly dispersing, giving their final birthday wishes to Nico and going home.

“what about you and Jack?”

“hmm?” i perk up at the mention of my boyfriend, dragging my line of sight away from said boy and back towards my friends.

“i asked about you and Jack. when was your guys’ last date night? how was it?” Ryleigh is only trying to be polite, i know that. but she’s only reminded me that Jack and i haven’t gone on a date in what has to be at least six months.

“honestly? i couldn’t tell you.” i confess. “i don’t even remember the last time we went on a date.”

“well, that’s not right! we should do a double date soon! i’ll have Dawson set it up.” she smiles. “ooh triple date! you and Yegor should come!”

“we’d love that!” Darya chimes in. i let out a polite smile, but i know it won’t happen. i’ve tried too many times to set up a date night and nothing ever comes from it.

“hey, baby. you ready to go?” Dawson saunters over, planting a kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek. Ryleigh nods, bidding Darya and i goodbye.

“hey, y/n? i think Jack was looking for you.” Yegor tells me as he comes over next, gathering his wife to leave for the night.

“he was?” my voice is filled with a pathetic hope, an excitement over even the thought of my boyfriend seeking me out. but when i look back to where i last saw him, he still stands next to his captain, laughing over something one of them said. “thanks, Shara.”

he smiles, the both of them now saying their goodbyes. and then there was one.

i sit by myself, lazily chewing the straw in my drink as i watch my boyfriend and his friend.

i quickly lose track of how long i sit there, ordering drink after drink. eventually, i stop watching Jack, opting for mindlessly scrolling through instagram instead.

“hey.” my head snaps up at Jack’s voice, watching as he finally joins me. my heart thumps in my chest, like i’m a teenager again, at the thought of spending time with him. “i think i’m ready to head home.”

my mood deflates, my shoulders slumping, but i nod, gathering my purse as Jack sets some cash on the bar top to cover my drinks from the night.

i wobble slightly as i stand, Jack’s hand coming up to hold onto my arm, making sure i don’t fall. heat spreads from the site of the touch, shivers racking my body.

“you okay, babe?” he chuckles, pulling me into his side as we walk to the elevator, pressing the down button and waiting for it to arrive. “how much did you drink?”

“i don’t know. maybe three? i lost count after the first hour alone.” i shrug, my words are slurred, a product of my tipsy state. “i started off with sprite, but i switched to gin and tonics once Darya left.”

Jack is silent as we get into the elevator, his brows furrowed and him seemingly in deep thought. the whole ride home is quiet, the air charged. i spend the whole drive with my head turned to look out the window. but as soon as we reach the parking deck of our apartment, getting out of his Range Rover, he speaks up again.

“you could’ve come and found me? i was just with Nico.” i’m silent for a moment, picking up my pace to try and reach apartment faster.

“i didn’t feel like being ignored again.” i shrug as we step through the door, the alcohol giving me obvious courage that i never had before.

“what do you mean ‘again’? i haven’t ignored you.” Jack follows behind me into our bedroom, his eyes tracking me as i sit on the bed and begin unfastening my heels.

“stop.” i sigh.

“stop what? y/n/n, when have i ignored you?” his genuine obliviousness hurts more than i thought it could. the fact that he didn’t even realize he was ignoring me; that it was just a subconscious reaction for him to push me aside.

“every day.” i tell him. my eyes start stinging with tears, finally ready to have the fight that i’ve so desperately been avoiding. but it’s obvious that Jack doesn’t feel the same.

“i’m sorry you felt that way.” he tells me, barely sparing another glance my way before he starts grabbing pajamas out of the dresser.

“you’re losing me.” my words are choked out in a whisper, but i know he hears them because i watch as he stiffens, slowly turning around.

“what?”

“Jack, this doesn’t feel like a relationship anymore. it feels like a job. a chore.” i confess. “it doesn’t feel like you love me anymore and i need you to just say it. because i love you too much to keep going on like this.”

“y/n-”

“we barely talk, Jack.” i cut him off. “when we do, we’re struggling through empty small talk. you’re barely home, and when you are, you don’t try and spend time with me. i sit in this house, alone, even when you’re here.”

“what are you talking about? y/n, we’ve been together for almost seven years. we’ve been through so much together.” his words are harsh, defensive.

“exactly! i gave you all my best me’s- i gave you my teenage years, i gave you all of my best years! i gave you all my empathy when you were being called a bust. when you were struggling in your rookie year and at your lowest. i sat here and comforted you after every loss! i stayed here and cried and tried to be brave every time you were gone. i defended you to everyone!”

tears roll freely down my cheeks, my nose becoming stuffy and my throat tightening. i’ve risen from the bed now, still keeping my distance from him though.

“and what do i have to show for it? an empty apartment? an empty relationship? we used to spend hours talking about marriage and our future. now, the last time i tried to bring that up, you all but told me you didn’t want to marry me.” i scoff. “and i can’t blame you, i wouldn’t marry me either; a pathological people pleaser.”

“don’t say that, please.” he whispers.

“but all i wanted was for you to see me, Jack! i’m here! i have feelings! i know it’s hard to believe, but i’m a person too! i need love! not whatever this has been.” my words fade off at the end, breaking off into sobs.

Jack’s eyes are red, tears of his own slowly descending as we stand in silence.

“do something, please. say something.” i plead, furiously wiping at my tears. i swallow a lump in the throat as he finally takes a step forward.

“i’m sorry.” his voice is shaky, breaking midst sentence. “i’m so sorry i didn’t know you were feeling this way. i’ve been so wrapped up in hockey and the team that i haven’t been here. not fully, at least.

“i took you for granted. i guess you’ve been this dependable force in my life for so long that eventually i forgot that you need more than just my presence.

“i do love you, y/n. i can’t imagine my life without you. i’ll be better, i promise. just, please, don’t leave.” he begs.

Jack steps forward, closing the distance between us and taking my face in his hands.

“i need you. i’ll always choose you.” his hands shake on my cheeks as he pulls me into a kiss. he pulls away, heaving out a broken mix between a sigh and a sob. “i’m so so sorry.”

“we can fix us. i believe that. but please, don’t put me through this again.” i beg, laying my forehead against his.

“never.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s writings <3

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earthtoharlow · 2 months

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Flashing Lights

15) In Case You Miss Me

Jack Harlow x Singer!OC

Series Masterlist

Jack pulled up to the studio to pick up Maryse, as they planned on spending the rest of the evening together. They were back in NY and would be taking a quick drive to New Jersey the following morning so they could attend the Video Music Awards where Jack would be hosting and performing.

When he arrived the studio light was red, signaling that Maryse was recording. He watched her through the window, and no matter how many times he’s watched her perform he would always be awestruck by her talent.

Her upcoming tour would be the first of many milestones in her career, and he couldn’t wait to see her shine on stage, captivating audiences with her undeniable talent.

As Maryse emerged from the studio, her face lit up as she noticed him. “How long have you been standing here?” Maryse asked, jumping in his arms to greet him.

“Not long, but you were amazing in there!” He exclaimed, showering her with compliments. “You’re going to blow everyone away while on tour.”

Maryse’s face warmed at the praise, “Thanks babe,” her voice tinged with excitement. “I’m nervous, but I’m also really looking forward to it!”

As they drove back to her place a wave of sadness washed over Jack. On one hand he was happy and excited that Maryse was going to tour with Coldplay, knowing that this was everything she dreamed about but on the other hand he couldn’t shake away the nagging feeling of guilt that tugged at his heart.

Jack knew he should be supportive, but deep down, a part of him wished she didn’t have to go, wishing they could stay together, cocooned in their own little world together.

When they arrived back at the apartment, Jack put on a brave face, determined to savor the moments they had together before the tour pulled them apart. He laughed and joked as they tried (and failed) to cook dinner together before eventually deciding on ordering a pizza all while hiding the ache in his chest.

Not wanting to ruin the evening together, Jack pushed aside his own feelings, not wanting to burden her with his worries.

***

Their stylist teams had just left the room as they had just finished helping them get ready for the VMA’s. Jack watched as Maryse stood in front of the floor length mirror, carefully examining herself. He couldn’t help but smile as a sense of contentment washed over him. The faces she was making in the mirror as she fluffed her hair made his heart skip a beat. Despite being together for 7 months, he still found her captivating.

When Maryse caught Jack watching, a hint of shyness flickered across her face, her face beginning to warm. Jack found it endearing that she still got flustered by his gaze. After Paris, the tension from before seemed like a distant memory.

Jack walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You look amazing.” He murmured. Planting a soft kiss on her cheek. Maryse’s nervousness melted away as she leaned into his embrace.

“You aren’t going to match with me?” he joked, playfully pouting as he ran his hands up and down her hips. Maryse was wearing a custom green two piece set from Romeo Hunte with a lace green bra to match, while Jack’s was wearing a custom brown leather Hermes suit that she knew he was going to sweat in as soon as he stepped outside.

Maryse turned to him, a twinkle in her eye, and laughed. “Don’t worry, darling,” she replied with a grin. “We’ll be matching with your second outfit of the night.”

Jack nodded in satisfaction as he wrapped his arms around her once more, leaving kisses down her neck. “How mad do you think everyone would be if we just stayed here in the hotel and ditched the award show?”

She threw her head back and laughed, and lightly elbowed him in the stomach. “VERY! Now come on, I know Neelam already sent you a message ten minutes ago saying the sprinter was here. I don’t want her to hate me more.” Maryse said, pushing him away lightly and grabbing her clutch and heading towards the door.

“Wait for me!” Jack replied, quickly snatching his phone off the bed, rushing after her. “She doesn’t hate you, she just doesn’t know you like I do!”

Maryse rolled her eyes and continued walking to the elevators, Jack quickly caught up and grab her outreached hand.

It was quiet as they stood in the elevator, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Jack pressed Maryse against the wall of the elevator, his body pressed against hers as he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Maryse’s breath hitched at the suddenness of his actions but she quickly surrendered, her hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.

They were so wrapped into each other they almost didn’t hear the ding of the elevator doors making them reluctantly break away from one another with flushed cheeks and ragged breaths.

“You sure you don’t want to stay here?” Jack asked as they stepped out into the lobby. Maryse wanted to so bad, and Jack knew it.

“No.” She lied and walked ahead of him. Jack couldn’t help but smirk as he followed behind her, ignoring the look on Neelam’s face when they climbed into the car.

***

Jack smiled big as the paparazzi snapped away, a sense of validation washed over him as he held his four awards of the night each a testament of his talent. This moment felt like a turning point.

For months, Jack had been grappling with self doubt and insecurities as he was haunted by the negative reviews on his album. The harsh criticism weighed heavily on him, almost casting a shadow over his passion. Tonight made him realize that those voices of doubt were just that—voices. They didn’t define him or his artistry.

Amidst the sea of flashing lights, he caught Maryse’s eyes from the side of the stage, watching with a huge smile that mirrored his own. Jack began to wave her over, wanting her to celebrate with him. Maryse rushed to his side, unable to contain her overwhelming excitement.

Maryse ignored all the camera men and began pressing kisses all over his face, each one a testament to her unwavering support. Each kiss, she whispered words of encouragement and adoration. Her love radiated with each kiss.

After arriving back to the hotel room, after celebrating with the crew Jack realized that he didn’t want to start his world tour next week without Maryse by his side. The thought of being apart from her, even for a moment, felt unbearable especially after their last argument. He didn’t care if others saw him as clingy or overly attached—waking up in a different city every day without Maryse just didn’t feel right.

In a moment of vulnerability, he reached out to Maryse. His voice trembled as he confessed his inner turmoil. “I don’t want to go,” he admitted, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

Maryse’s eyes softened, “What’s wrong? You love touring!” She said concerned, gently placing a hand on his cheek. She had never seen him like this.

“I’m going to miss you too much, I’m sorry if this makes me look clingy…I just.” Jack couldn’t finish his thoughts as he was getting more emotional.

Maryse immediately pulled him as close as she could. “I’m going to miss you too.” It was the only thing she thought about as she watched him on stage tonight.

“Are you not scared?” Jack asked softly, eyes red from crying. The fear in Maryse’s eyes mirrored his own. “Terrified.” She admitted with a rueful smile. “The thought of being apart from you for months—it’s like a constant knot in my stomach.”

His hold on her tightened as she spoke. The weight of their separation hung heavy on the air. They both knew the sacrifices they would have to make for the sake of their careers, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear.

“But…” Maryse began “I refuse to let our fear define us. Yeah, we’ll be apart but we’re always going to stay connected. We’ll make time for each other, even if it’s just a quick phone call or a text message.”

Jack nodded in agreement. “We have no choice but to make this work.” grappling with the reality of their situation.

“Is it weird that I miss you already?”

“You still have me,” Maryse reassured him, her gaze filled with unwavering love. “Even though we’ll be miles apart, my heart will always be with you.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, despite the sadness that weighed heavy on his soul. “And you’ll always have me too,” he replied, his voice a soft whisper in the quiet room. “No matter where we are in the world, my love for you will never waver.”

***

AN: just a little filler chapter before the next part where they’re away from each other 😬 and thank you always to @harlowcomehome for helping me 🫶

Tag List:

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@heavyhitterheaux @hoodharlow @neon-lights-and-glitter @babiefries @bout-mine @mace23477 @snows-blog-of-fiction @dstark-0706 @harlowsbby @itsyagirljaz @leftapricotprofessorlover @comehomeimissyou@minkookie95@harlowcomehome @jackharloww@jaydaaasworld@xxkoolkatxx @kkrenae @hufflewhore128 @w1ldthoughts @jackiehollanderr @katiaw2 @halfmoondaze @babybardi2@vinniehackersbaee

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow reader #jack harlow x oc #jack harlow x black reader #Jack Harlow black oc #flashing lights

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jawritter · 1 year

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Carry On

Chapter 4

Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2964

Warnings: Dean coming to terms with his new reality, so let’s just say it’s some tension in the room. Graphic injury. Me botching medical jargon, A lot of pain. Hospital setting. Angst.

Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!

A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67 Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!

My Mastlist Series Masterlist

The doctor had spent over an hour with Dean explaining to him the nature of his injuries, and the long road ahead of him. The whole time he was in with them Dean kept his hand tightly laced in Y/N’s. She didn’t know for sure if it was because he knew he needed to keep up the ‘husband and wife act’, or if there was something more to it, but his face showed no emotions. He laid there in a stoned silence, swallowing thickly on occasion; never saying a word.

As far as a case of a hard pill to swallow goes, someone telling a person they should be dead, they were lucky to be alive; but they were going to possibly have chronic nerve pain for the rest of their life; that they physically never would get back to running at 100%, that walking at first was even going to be a challenge even though the paralysis should only be temporary, was a hard fucking pill to swallow for normal people. Now, tell that to someone who has only known hunting their whole life, and you have an almost impossible pill to swallow. Hell, for Dean it was like trying to gulp down the entire bottle.

Dean had come through a lot of things in life normal people should have never come through. Dean had been to literal hell and back, died countless times, fought God himself. But this, this was going to be what ultimately ended his career. There was no ‘miracle’ or ‘divine intervention’ coming this time.

Since Chuck had been put in his place, and Jack had taken over, things had gotten relatively normal. They hunt basic monsters like they had in the past. Demons found themselves under a greater measure of control, so they kept their place. The ‘big bads’ were fewer and farther in between, and Dean had played with the idea of becoming a firefighter or a police officer, and getting out of hunting all together, but never got to do it, and now he wouldn’t ever get to do it if walking again was going to be a challenge.

The doctor assured Dean over and over again that the paralysis was most likely only caused by the swelling around the spinal cord and the trauma he endured there. That as the swelling subsided, he’d slowly regain feeling again. But that didn’t really make Dean feel better in that moment, and she knew that by the blank, sick look on his face as they talked about physical therapy to help with mobility again. The bottom line was that they really didn’t know the extent of the damage to his spinal cord, if there was any, or to his spine itself until the swelling was gone. There was still a possibility that he’d need more surgerys, or even might have to spend some time in a wheelchair before he became fully mobile again. Dean didn’t say anything, but Y/N could tell that was something that he wasn’t happy to hear by the way his grip only tightened on her hand the more the man talked.

Finally, when the doctor was done, and Dean’s pain was manageable, at least to a point that he wasn’t practically withering, the way he’d been when he’d first woken up, and he was able to eat something; they took the trio downstairs to what would be Dean’s home away from home for the foreseeable future. He’d have to stay in that room until he could go home and finish his recovery; which the doctor said totally depended on how fast his body healed itself. It could be two weeks; it could be upwards of a month. Really, there were still so many questions, and very few answers.

There had been countless people around the three of them from the point Dean’s eyes had opened, until they were rolled down to his room. They were surrounded by doctors, and nurses of different sorts, but when Dean was settled into his room, and the door was closed by the final charge nurse for the evening; Sam, Dean, and Y/N where left alone, that’s when the exhaustion started to settle in on Y/N as well as Dean. She looked up at the clock to find that it was no longer early in the morning, but rather it was closer to around five in the afternoon.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked worriedly as she moved away from where she’d been standing next to the bed. After all, no one was here now, there was no need to keep up the act anymore was there? “You’re not leaving are you?”

“No Dean,” she assured him, coming to sit back down in the chair next to his bed; he immediately reached for her hand again as soon as she was close enough. She’d be a liar if she said it didn’t make her heart flutter in her chest just a little that Dean wanted her to be close to him, when she thought that when he woke up it would be just the opposite. “I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to leave. I’ve been here the whole time; I don’t plan on leaving now, I’m in this with you for the long haul, if you want me to be.”

Dean closed his eyes and took as deep of a breath as his battered body would allow him, a large tear rolled down his freckle dusted cheek, and into the crease of his nose before it disappeared into the corner of his mouth. Y/N did the only thing she knew to do to comfort him, and that was run her fingers through his short, disheveled hair.

“Everything’s gonna be okay Dean,” she tried, but she watched as he quickly shoved down whatever weakness he was feeling again as if it never was, and opened his eyes to look around the room, looking for a distraction because clearly, he just wasn’t ready to talk yet.

“Where’s Sam?” he asked finally, not finding his brother in the room.

“He’s gone downstairs to grab our bags,” Y/N told him and he nodded slightly as he looked around at the too white walls, the small TV that set perched on the wall just opposite of the hospital bed, and the little couch that lay against the window in the room that would be Y/N’s bed from now on until he was able to go home.

“Where have you all been staying?” He questioned, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Well, I’ve been here, I haven’t left since the night you got here, but Sam has been staying at the hotel with Eileen and Miracle. He went to retrieve them the night you got hurt. They’re looking for an apartment for you to stay at until you’re able to travel back to the bunker.”

Dean’s mouth formed a thin line and his nostrils flared, but he said nothing of what he was thinking, instead choosing to keep it to himself. Y/N had a feeling he hadn’t thought that far ahead, and knowing he was stuck in this town and state a little longer wasn’t something he was thrilled about all together.

“What about my Baby?” Dean questioned, and Y/N pulled the keys out and placed them on his chest. Dean swallowed thickly and grabbed them tightly in his free hand.

“She’s been here with me while I stayed with you, and Sam said he’s going to leave her here while he uses the car he drove back from the bunker,” she informed him.

“Please don’t leave me here alone,” Dean said again, grief starting to take hold of his features no matter how much he tried to push it down again, and it broke her heart. “Sam, he’s got… He’s going to need to leave to check on, or go on hunts now since I can’t, and he’s— just please don’t leave me.”

“Hey, easy,” she said, quickly getting up from her seat and sitting gingerly on the side of the bed next to him as his chest started to rise and fall rapidly, and his heart rate shot up on the monitors. The weight of everything started to fall hard on him, and honestly, she was surprised he did as well as he’d done for this long.

“I’m here Dean, I’m here, and I’m going to be here, through the surgeries if they’re needed, the physical therapy, all of it. You’d literally have to run me off, and I don’t scare easily. I’ve got you Dean, and Sam does too. He’s out there doing the things I can’t while I’m here with you, and between us we will get you back on your feet again, but I ain’t leaving, handsome. You’re stuck with me, okay?”

Dean huffed out as deep of a breath as he could manage in order to real in the emotions he’d let slip as Sam opened the door, still shaking the rain from his long hair and bags hanging off of his shoulders as he made his way over to the couch and laid them down on the floor by the corner of the couch.

“Okay,” Sam said with an exasperated huff as he turned to face Dean and Y/N. “I think I got everything. There are more of Dean’s clothes in the car, but I didn’t really see the point of bringing them all up right now, because he can’t exactly get dressed until his back has healed and they’ve taken the catheter out. I did get your clothing Y/N, as well as everyone’s phone chargers, laptop, and chargers for those. If there is anything else you guys need, I can go and buy it.”

Sam looked so tired and so disheveled as he flopped heavily down onto the little couch, his eyes locked on Dean’s as they stared at one another in a heavy silence.

“I swear Dean, I didn’t—”

“Okay,” Dean cut in, before turning to look at the wall in front of him. “I believe you Sam, just… let it go, okay?”

“But–”

“Look, shit happened, okay? If you didn’t make a deal, then it just wasn’t my time to go, even if I would have been better off dead.”

“Dean, that’s not true!” Y/N cut in quickly, and Dean just shook his head, his face set in stone. His emotions were all over the place, and Y/N expected that, who wouldn't be? But she did NOT want him thinking he’d been better off dead, because she just couldn’t imagine living one day in a world where he didn’t exist.

“Dean you’re not going to stay like this forever man, you will get better, it’s just… It’s just going to be a process, but you got this,” Sam tried, but Dean gave no response, he just closed his eyes and grimaced slightly.

“Go home for a while Sammy. You’ve been up here all day, and I’m sure Eileen is gonna start to worry after a while. I don’t think they’re going to do anything else to me tonight, but if they do I’ll be sure to have Y/N call you. You look exhausted.”

Sam’s mouth set in a tight line, but he didn’t argue with Dean, he just nodded his head and stood. There would be a time to hash things out with Dean, but when he was still processing his own fate, it wasn’t the time nor the place, if he wanted to be alone for a while with Y/N, Sam certainly wasn’t going to argue with that.

“If you guys need something, just call, I’m only about five minutes up the road.” Sam offered, placing a hand on his brother's arm briefly before he walked to the door. Dean watched him go with an unreadable look on his face, watching him until he closed it completely behind him.

“He means well Dean, he just—he doesn’t really know how to process this I don’t think,” Y/N attempted, and Dean snorted slightly before closing his eyes and resting his head against the hand that was still playing with his hair.

“Well, that makes two of us, because fuck if I don’t either,” Dean admitted before running his hand down his face grimacing at the movement and the amount of stubble he found there.

“How long was I out again?” he asked.

“Four days,” she answered, and laughed at the face he made as he scratched at the stubble, well, more of a beard almost at that point, on his face.

“We’ll see about digging out the electric razor tomorrow and cleaning that up some,” Y/N said with a chuckle.

Dean swore under his breath and his eyes diverted to the window, streaks of rain slid down the cloud gray glass, and a slight roll of thunder echoed outside, making Y/N look that way briefly as well.

“I would have never thought—fuck me,” Dean said, taking a shaky breath. “This is not how I anticipated that hunt to end.”

“I don’t think anyone of us could have Dean, there was nothing we could have done to have known or prevent it—”

“No, I could have prevented it. I fucked up. I made a rookie’s mistake. I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings. Those damn pieces of rebar were everywhere in that barn. I should have never been dumb enough to put myself between one and that fucking vamp.”

“Well, it’s too late to worry about that now, the damage is done, we can’t reverse it, all you can do is heal from it, so stop beating yourself up over things you can’t change,” Y/N scolded him, and Dean smirked slightly.

“But beating myself up is my nature sweetheart,” he attempted to jest, but it fell short, his breath was starting to come out in short pants and grunts more than smooth intakes of air, and he was starting to sweat slightly. His hands started to tremble as he held onto Y/N’s hand, as well as the blanket that lay flat over him.

“Dean,” Y/N said, standing to her feet, worry laced in her voice as she took in the state of him and hit the nurse call button. “What’s wrong?”

“Pain’s back,” he admitted through gritted teeth, and the nurse came rushing through the door with a syringe in her hand.

“I’m sorry Mr. Clearwater,” she apologized as she hurried to give him the pain medication. “I was on my way to your room when another patient coded, and you ended up going over the time for your medication. It should kick in quickly.”

Y/N sat quietly, watching him breathe into it, his eyes shut tight as he could get them, until finally, after about a minute he relaxed, and slowly released the death grip on Y/N’s hand before looking up at her with exhausted green eyes, and the nurse placed a hand on his knee.

“You’ve been up for a long time, try and get some sleep while that medication’s working, okay?” she said, giving his knee a slight pat before leaving the room, and Dean nodded, his eyes heavy from the medication, and the exhaustion of everything that seemed to come crashing down around him today.

“Promise you will be here when I wake up?” Dean questioned, his words slurred slightly, and Y/N smiled as he tucked the covers around him. Even though it fucking broke her to see him like this. She hated it. Hated every minute of it. He didn’t need to see that though. All he needed to see was that she was there for him, and that’s all she intended to let him see.

“I’m gonna be right here handsome, I promise. Hellhounds couldn’t drag me away.”

Forever:

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Jensen and Dean’s Babes

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#Carry On #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #dean winchester series #dean series #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series #hurt!dean winchester #hurt!dean #jawritter #jensen ackles

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typingcorgi · 1 year

Text

just thought i'd share the fic chat gpt wrote about jack daniels and an oc named agent applebottom

fucking masterpiece

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels, a seasoned CIA operative, was on a mission to take down a notorious drug cartel when he met Agent Applebottom, a skilled FBI agent.

Their mission required them to work together, and from the start, there was tension between the two. Applebottom was by the book, always following the rules, while Whiskey was a loose cannon, often breaking the rules to get the job done.

But as they worked together, they started to develop a grudging respect for each other. They were both experts in their field, and they complemented each other's skills.

One night, as they were working late, they found themselves alone in the office. Whiskey, who had been nursing a crush on Applebottom, finally mustered up the courage to ask her out on a date.

To his surprise, Applebottom agreed, and they went out to a nearby bar for drinks. They talked about their work, their passions, and their dreams. Whiskey found himself opening up to Applebottom in a way that he had never done before.

Applebottom was charmed by Whiskey's rough exterior and his vulnerability. She saw a different side of him that no one else had seen before.

Over the next few weeks, Whiskey and Applebottom continued to see each other. They went on dates, explored the city together, and talked about their future.

But their happiness was short-lived. One day, Whiskey was captured by the drug cartel they had been hunting. Applebottom was devastated and vowed to rescue him.

She enlisted the help of her FBI team and tracked down the location where Whiskey was being held. They launched a daring rescue mission, and after a fierce battle, they were able to rescue Whiskey.

As they made their way back home, Whiskey realized that he had fallen deeply in love with Applebottom. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

So, as soon as they got back home, Whiskey proposed to Applebottom. She said yes, and they started planning their future together.

From that moment on, Whiskey and Applebottom were inseparable. They continued to work together, taking down some of the most dangerous criminals in the world. But they always made time for each other, knowing that their love for each other was the most important thing in their lives.

#lmao

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k-dokja · 3 years

Text

dirty laundry

summary: there was a lot to unload

Really, you hadn't thought there'd be a day where you’d step into the living room with a mug of tea only to witness Subin gushing about your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who was very much present in a form she failed to recognize. That was... interesting.

You were fine with letting it be, after all, your relationship was not something known to the children. Leaving them in ignorant was better than including them into the folds when the information didn't add to anything. Besides, you weren't happy with how little time you got with Kayden's human form.

Even during his recent visit, your interaction was near nonexistent, restricted by the the kids being present. Cuddling with Casein Nitrate didn't feel the same and you weren't afraid to admit you missed your boyfriend. At least, to yourself.

Which was why you would rather steering clear from this conversation altogether. Not that Subin would not leave you be.

“How about you, big sister?” Subin sprung up like a jack-in-the-box at your entrance, eager to get an opinion of another girl in the room. “You saw him, didn't you? You have to admit he's extremely attractive.”

Fleetingly, your eyes were met with Casein Nitrate’s own light green ones. Not that you were ever one to care about his appearance until he became a cat with a round tummy. It did become a point of mockery and affection for the two of you afterwards. However, you couldn't remember making a comment on Kayden's appearance... ever.

There was a good reason for it, too. “Why are you losing your mind over some guy with a ponytail?”

Immediately, Casein Nitrate froze. Along with him, Subin, Wooin, and Jiwoo all followed. Only Jisuk remained ignorant to the severity of your response. Arguably, Subin for a reason completely than the rest.

“But he's not only some guy with a ponytail, he's also tall and powerful!” Subin grumbled when she realized she'd not get her wanted support from you.

“Being tall makes everyone handsome,” you snickered, “look at Jisuk, without his height, he'd only be a five.”

“Hey!” Jisuk startled at the sudden inclusion into the conversation. “I’m at least a seven without my height.”

You waved him away, deaf to his protest. “My point stands,” you shrugged, “besides, you don't even know anything about the guy, what if he starfish and talk in his sleep?”

Casein Nitrated jumped a little at the description, but the miniscule movement did not alert Subin of his distress. You took that as a cue to continue.

“Maybe he wears mismatched socks. Maybe he purposefully ignores the weight disparity between the two of you every time he drops down on you. Maybe he keeps sneaking the food you were cooking even if you told him to wait for dinner, then already got full when it's time to eat." After a pause to inhale, you contiued. "Maybe he uses your expensive conditioner and spends over an hour in the bathroom everytime he washes his hair but he never listened to you about cutting it because of some aerodynamic reasons!”

That got really personal. The petrified faces staring back at you was proof enough, not that it stopped you from going.

Casein Nitrate was glaring at you, but his warning look carried nowhere near giving the damage your next statement would give. You had no reason to stop with the entire squad fell into dead silent as they stared at you.

“What if he disappeared while severely wounded and didn't tell you what happened to him until you had to hunt him down across the globe! Being sexy would help with nothing then, when your accursed boyfriend who memorized your number by heart couldn't remember to call you.”

You stopped to inhale after that lengthy airing of your grievance and raised your mug of tea to your lips. The cooling effect of the iced tea calmed down your frayed nerves. You didn't look to check how Casein Nitrate reacted after.

“Wow...” Subin gaped. “That sounds personal?”

One really had to love teenager's ability to grasp the point. You knew you enjoyed it yourself.

“Yeah, I'm dating someone pretty similar,” you put on a defeated smile, “I only got to see him in passing recently, didn't even get the chance to say anything before he left. All I'm saying is that it's not all sunshine and roses with a guy like that.”

Subin's eyes widened at the realization. Whether if she saw truth in your words or she realized your relationship with the aforementioned man she gushed about, you didn't know. But you made a point to drink your tea away, looking away from the group altogether.

Apparently, what you said spoke more about you than it did the man in question.

The mood would have stayed awkward had it not for the subsequent interruption of the doorbell. With it, came the appearance the remaining one in top four, Gangseok. As the kids surrounded the new addition, it gave Casein Nitrate a moment of freedom to hop down from the couch and approached you.

Once again, you pointedly ignored him, not that it helped when he plopped his paw on your leg. “We will talk about this later.”

“Hm.”

“I miss being with you, too.”

You couldn't help but smile a little, even if you were annoyed at how perceptive he was.

“I don't understand what you mean, Casein Nitrate.”

He huffed in exasperation and swatted lightly at your leg. “I don't need to be a genius to see you're unhappy about something, but I happen to be one so I also know how to rectify the situation.”

“You’re being too presumptuous.”

Even with your accusatory tone, he managed to grin delightfully. “Hard to not be when one's always right.”

“Hmph.”

#kayden break #kayden break x reader #eleceed #eleceed x reader #fics

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wormstacheangel · 2 years

Text

Winter Wonderland

wc: 2k inspo by @archervale art here <3

It was a last-minute decision, involving phone calls, new festive outfits, and using Charlie’s special card. It was a Christmas miracle to get everyone on the same page, but eventually, all the small details were settled, and the family was heading to Minnesota. A huge lakeside cabin was waiting just for them.

Just in time for Christmas.

Jody arrived at the cabin with Alex and Patience only a few hours after Dean parked his Baby in the garage. Donna should be coming tomorrow morning with Claire and Kaia since they all went vampire hunting together. While Sam and Eileen are already on a plane to spend a few days with them before heading back to Ireland.

“Take a look at this.” Dean nudged Jody to grab her attention, Alex quickly scooting close to peek at his phone. He holds it out for all of them to see the video Garth sent him to apologize for not being able to make it.

Happy screams of little Cas and Sam saying, ‘Uncle Dean! Dean!’ came from his phone before the camera focused on little Gertie explaining that the twins were teething, so they couldn’t make it for Christmas.

“I’m an uncle.” Dean proudly said while Jody patted his head, a soft smile on her lips.

“That you are. And I hear you’re a Dad now?” Jody asked while Alex faked gasping. Probably already knowing the news from Claire.

“Sort of. I guess.” Dean shrugged. “Cas is the Dad mostly. I’m just…happy to help.”

“Call it what you want,” Jody continued as Dean embarrassingly put his phone away. Knowing damn well, she saw his lock screen of sleeping Jack and Cas. “Helping raise someone makes you an important person in their lives.”

“Well, aren’t you an expert on that, Mom.” Alex hugged Jody from around the shoulders, both smiling as if they had an inside joke.

“I sure am.”

Dean watched as the two of them walked around the cabin together, already talking about getting dibs on the good rooms before Claire showed up.

His eyes then fell on Cas that sat on the living room floor, waving hello to their guest while covered in tinsel that Jack just wrapped him in. An image he never thought he would see. His best friend or boyfriend or soulmate, if they believe in that kind of bull—they don’t—happily laughing as Jody walked over to hug him. Picking up Jack in her arms to give them a big kiss while Alex helps untangle Cas from the huge mess.

Dean always felt like something was missing from his life. Feeling that hole in his chest ache just a little less when Cas was around—feeling it hurt and sting when he wasn’t—but now, having Cas the way he does, he doesn’t even remember how it felt to be lonely.

Now, he realized someone always loved him even when he didn’t feel he deserved it.

He wondered if Cas knew that feeling was reciprocated.

It’s only been a few months since Cas came back, and their relationship has grown into what it is now. New. Scary. Awesome.

Add to that the fact that Jack decided they wanted to look their age—shrinking down to the size of a four-year-old—and Sam moving to a whole different country for a bit really shook him to the core. But he’s okay.

He’s better than okay. He’s good. He’s so fan-freaking-tastic that he is actually celebrating Christmas for real just because he can.

And best of all, because he has a big freaking family to celebrate it with.

“Dean, can you help Patience with the rest of the stuff?” He heard Jody call after him while she busied herself wrapping tinsel around Jack. Alex and Cas hung ornaments on the little Nephilim, but he didn’t miss when his boyfriend turned to give him a heart-stopping wink.

That dork. He thought when he went back to the garage to help bring in the rest of the luggage, noticing Patience standing outside.

She was staring out into the still lake, looking just as frozen as the water was becoming. He swung a purple duffle over his shoulder and walked over to her, making enough crunching noise with the pebbles at his feet to not startle her before he stood at her side.

“Hey. How’s my favorite psychic?”

She didn’t jump or even look away from whatever point she was looking at. She did let out a small huff of a laugh through her nose, though—he’s taking that as a win—before she answered. “My grandma isn’t going to be happy to hear that.”

“I’m sure she’ll agree.”

She finally turned to look back at him, she looked calm, but Dean could see she was struggling with something. She was smiling, almost teasing.

“What?” He asked, but she shook her head in response. Turning around to head inside while Dean follows behind her. “You’re not gonna tell me? Was it a vision?”

“Nope. Just,” She stopped and looked at him, watching him with sincerity as she said, “The view down by the lake must look really nice when it’s snowing.”

Before he could comprehend what she was saying, even looking back to see the lake and afternoon sun glimmering behind them, she was called by Alex. Leaving him thinking it was nothing to worry about.

The view is pretty nice. So he thinks as he takes the last duffle inside and closes the garage door.

The rest of the day is spent decorating the house and getting ready for Christmas day tomorrow morning.

Holiday music played through the speakers as soon as they figured out how to use it, and Cas was quick to dress Jack for the occasion. They ran around in a gingerbread person onesie while Miracle followed their every little step.

“Aren’t you going to change?” Cas asked, sporting his own festive outfit. A thick light blue sweater with festive Christmas lights decorating it. “I left it in our bedroom whenever you are ready.”

Our bedroom. Maybe it’s just the holidays, but he really couldn’t help the emotion that hit him at that very moment. He leaned into Cas’s space, stealing a small kiss as a thank you. For having his sweater ready. For coming back. For loving him.

Cas, wide-eyed and dope-looking, never failed to make his heart race, especially when he looks back down to Dean’s lips and lets out a shaky breath he didn’t need to take.

“Okay.” Cas sighed before he looked back at Dean’s eyes. “Are you going to um, change?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right up.” Dean winked at him before continuing to help Alex and Jack put up the Christmas lights around the house.

The deal is not to decorate the Christmas tree until everyone arrives.

Later, dressed in the red sweater Jack picked out for him—it had a big light-up Christmas tree in the front— they were all in the kitchen baking cookies for a jolly old man they were all still not sure was real. It wasn’t until Jack’s blue eyes started to glow gold that the argument ended.

Can’t have the kid create a fat white man coming down people chimneys.

“Okay! We’re going to take Jack and Miracle for a walk while Dads here,” Jody winked at them. Already taking Jack into her arms. “Clean up the kitchen. Is that cool?”

“Yes!” “Yeah!” Dean and Cas say simultaneously, ignoring the laughing girls as they all head out the door. Then, with one last reminder to bundle up, the front door finally closed behind them, and they were alone.

Dean didn’t hesitate when he turned to grab Cas’s face and pull him in for a kiss. Both of them laughed and smiled as they did.

And maybe it was that moment in the messy rented-out kitchen, Cas jumping to sit on the counter and pull Dean to stand between his legs so they can continue to make out like two love sick teenagers', that Dean really decided on what his future will be.

And it had Cas in it.

It had his kid in it.

And it had his family being happy in a place where they could see the sunrise and sunset from out their windows.

“I love you.” Cas brushed against his lips. Kissing Dean’s cheek before kissing his lips again. Softer. As if every move of the lips was telling a story—the story about how an angel fell in love.

“I love you.” And the human that fell alongside him.

“Hey! We’re here! Dean?” They stopped mid-kiss when they heard the familiar voice coming from the living room. “Cas?”

Dean laughed when he felt Cas frown against his lips, but they went out to meet Sam and Eileen with one last peck.

It was the early hours of Christmas morning when Dean couldn't hold it in any longer. Waking up with Cas snoring right into his ear and his body draped across Dean's chest was the happiest he has woken up. It was crystal clear now what he had to do.

"Cas?" Dean turned his head to kiss him awake. Then, gently combing the mess of hair with his fingers while he coaxes his boyfriend awake. "Sweetheart, wake up. I got to ask you something important."

Cas opened one eye to peek at him and then squished his nose to Dean's cheek. Using his mojo to strengthen his octopus hug.

"It's dark outside. Shhhh."

"But I wanna do something."

"Too tired."

"No! Cas," Dean wiggles out of his grip just enough to grab Cas's face. Then, watching as his sleepy eyes turn more aware. "I love you. You listening?" He gave a silent nod, so Dean continued. "Good. Cause I wanted to tell you that I–that I love you and I think--no, I'm fucking positive that I want to marry you."

"I…What?" Cas watched his face, rereading it before his eyes started to water. "Really? Me?"

"Yeah, dumbass," Dean pressed their foreheads together as they both let tears fall. "You. I want to marry you. Fuck, I want to be married to you and love you for, well for fucking forever cause you don't die and I ain't leaving you so we'll figure some shit out, but for now," Dean kissed him, and Cas kissed back with just as much love. "Stay. With me."

"Yes!" Cas smiled as Dean rolled him into his back, kissing every inch of his face. "This is so...I love you. Dean, I love you so much."

They kissed for a little while on the bed before something caught his attention out the window.

“It’s snowing,” Dean whispers, watching the snow slowly fall from outside the large windows. Remember Patience's words from yesterday before chuckling. Understanding now. “The view by the lake.”

“What?”

Dean sat up, pushing the blankets off them. “Grab your coat!”

“Dean? Wait!”

They quickly got ready half haphazardly to go outside. Dean drags Cas to the lake to get the perfect view. It was breathtaking.

“Merry Christmas, Cas.” Dean digs into his pocket and grabs a ring he bought in a shop months ago. Always wondered if he was ready. If he even wanted this, but now he was sure. He never wanted anyone else. “You wanna be married to me?”

He holds out the ring and takes Cas’s hand. Watching as he studied every move Dean made with watery eyes. “As soon as possible. Yes.”

“Great.” Dean slipped the ring on and brought Cas in for a kiss. Slow and soft as they both tasted tears while the sun rose up from behind the house. Making the lake sparkle along with the falling snow. “We’re married now.”

“Hey!” They both turned towards the familiar voice coming from the house. “What are you two doing down there?”

It was Claire; they had just arrived just in time. Kaia waved back at them while Donna yelled out a “Good morning!”

Dean held Cas’s hand up. “We just got married!”

“What the fuck?” Claire blinked at them while Donna ran down in excitement. Bringing them both into a hug. While Claire still shockingly gasped, “Married?!”

Dean chuckled, already excited to see the rest of the family's reactions.

#fic #wormstachewrites #wayward sisters and team free will 2.0 #destiel #baby!jack #dinner didnt burn but the cookies sure did

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lovee-infected · 3 years

Note

This idea just hit me like a train. How would twst boys react to WAP from Cardi B?? 😂😂😂

I'm trying to ignore the fact that I might've never discovered WAP without this request...🗿

Warning(s): What should I even tag as the warning idkk ckcjxjsjsjdjdjck- Mentions of WAP's lyrics, mentions of nsfw, Warning for Idia's part bc I think it went a bit too far-

Riddle Rosehearts

Heard of this song named WAP being trending between students -> Searched it up -> Riddle:... Riddle: *Turns off his phone*

Bans WAP from the whole Heartslabyul afterwards, and every student found listening to it will have to face Riddle's: "NOOOOOOO- NO WAP IN THIS HOUSEHOLD - GO TO HORNY JAIL OFF WITH YOUR HEADS YOU UNWORTHY CREATURES- "

Trey Clover

Searches: "What does WAP mean?" before wards and after reading the search results he decides that he doesn't really need to listen to the song itself anymore.

He just clears his browsing history and returns to baking cakes. Nothing has happened, he knows nothing.

Cater Diamond

He is the guy making those "Night raven college react to WAP!!" videos on magicam. His reaction videos get over 100k views and people from all over the Twisted Wonderland start following this dork for them.

Who cares about the WAP itself? As long as he can gain followers over these videos he doesn't care how the song is supposed to be.

But at last Riddle discovers his videos by finding other dorms' students laughing over them and forces him to take them down💀 Man, Riddle really did ruin his once-in-a-life time chance for becoming popular.

Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade

Riddle has banned WAP Heartslabyul so they're going to illegally listen to it. It was Ace's fault though, Deuce is innocent.

Ace searchs up the music video, Deuce just sees the thumbnail and tells Ace that he doesn't think that this is going to be a good idea but Ace cuts him off by asking him not to be such a chicken-

Though they had to stop because Deuce was all shaky and embarrassed after just 20 seconds :"Stop this-STOP THIS- I CAN'T DO THIS- WE'RE STILL TOO YOUNG" and Ace had to stop to shut Deuce because they could've gotten caught at any second because of his unholy screams.

[a few minutes later...]

Deuce: It was saying DOORS in this house

Ace: Bruh what the- we both know it was saying Wh*res.

Deuce: Y-you dirty minded bastard!! It was clearly saying doors in this house!

Ace: Why the hell would they say doors in this house!??? It was wh*res!

Deuce: Doors!

Ace: WH*RES

Deuce: DOORS

Ace: WH*RES

Deuce: DOOOOORRRSSSSSSSSS

Leona Kingscholar

See he might be a jerk but he hasn't yet gotten to the level of appreciating this way of presenting women in songs-

He's just going to pretend that WAP doesn't exist,but most of the Savanaclaw on the other hand are going wild because with WAP, now he can't even take a peaceful nap without WAP being looped in his brain.

Ruggie Bucchi

WAP isn't beyond his power, he's handled stronger songs.✨ He'd regularly rap WAP in public when he's feeling like it.

Now he goes around to recommend WAP to naïve students and taint their virginity by making them listen to WAP without knowing what it is-

Jack Howl

Catches Ace and Deuce listening to WAP and ends up listening to it because of them. He doesn't knpw what to say...

He isn't mad, just disappointed. Disappointed parent noises. Out of all these students, why should he best buddies which these two?

Time to drag Ace and Deuce to a corner and give them a long speech on why young men their age need to be focusing on mastering skills and achieving success through these golden years instead of violating rules and tainting their pure minds.

"Trappola-kun, Spade-kun, you've greatly disappointed me. You need to be more mindful of your actions as fellow freshmen of night raven college. Is this how the future's great magicians are going to be? How do you think your parents would feel about this new habit of yours? Have you thought of how despicable women are being presented through such songs? Are you going to support such a taboo message toward ladies?"

And Ace and Deuce end up having to listen to him and think of their bad actions for the rest of the day...

Azul Ashengrotto

[Before listening to WAP]: He hears of this WAP song being super trending between students. What might it secret be? What kind of magic would make a simple song so hecking popular? He has to find out.

Azul thinks that by learning WAP's ways, he might be able to produce songs that are even better for mostrolounge and even start his very own music company! But before that he needs to listen to wap itself...

[After listening to WAP]: ...He discovers what kind of magic is making it so popular, but decides that it'd be better for him take a step back from the world of music for now. Yes, he's traumatized

Floyd Leech

"Hey hey koooeeebiii chaaannnn have you seen my new dance~?" ah yes, he's got the WAP dance and he's proud of it. These are the time when he's genuinely thankful for getting to have human legs.

But the WAP dance isn't his only target, he realizes that Jamil doesn't seem to want Kalim to know anything about WAP, but thankfully, Floyd is going to be kind enough to bless the young Kalim with his wealthy knowledge on WAP. ✨

Jade Leech

"My...my...that was savage," Jade is amazed, it's quite wonderful how these fragile creatures can go from Micheal Jackson's smooth criminal to WAP in a matter of years.

He's still having trouble keeping up with latest human trends and popular songs but, he's slowly liking humans a lot more than before. These creatures have already reached the level to make put p*rn in music, impressive.

Kalim Al Asim

He hears students whispering about an epic song named WAP during the classes, and of course he'd be intrigued!

He looks up the song but Jamil has already blocked his access to any sources that he might find WAP in, yet Floyd was kind enough to lend Kalim his phone to let him listen to this masterpiece. Later on, Floyd tells him about the WAP dance and bam, Kalim is addicted.

"Everyone watch me! I've got the WAP!"

Poor Jamil doesn't know which is worse, having Kalim signing it loudly in the dorm or watching him showing off his skills in that WAP dance in public. It's time for Jamil to go on a long, long trip and never come back until Kalim graduates from this school.

Jamil Viper

Listens to WAP once, is going to spend the rest of his life pretending that he has never heard or watched it. The most ironic part about it is how he watches the music video instead of just listening to the song and...the snakes. Good lord the snakes- He isn't sure if he likes snakes anymore.

The snakes part seriously traumatizes him but not like Kalim does when he asks Jamil to learn him the WAP dance. And heck no Jamil isn't going to learn him how to dance like a wh*re. At this point, he decides to deny WAP's whole existence.

Kalim: At least tell me what a WAP is!

Jamil:

Jamil: Worship and prayer.

Vil Schoenheit

Hasn't listened to WAP and refuses to do so. He's got standards.

Rook Hunt

"Bravo!!! These Mademoiselles have taken the art of music to a whole nother level! Beaute! 100 points! 💯" (...what else did you expect him to say?)

Just as always, no one can really tell if Rook really liked it or not but from the way he acts he seems to be... intrigued. Apparently WAP starts to get too famous in school and Rook would always be the first one to find out if a student is secretly listening to WAP in public, so he doesn't mind popping up and reminding the students not to listen to such a potentially stimulating song so carelessly: "Monsieur (x), it's adorable to see you appreciating such a glorious piece of art in this lovely day, but I don't think that all of these students staring at us right now are yet prepared for such a beauty,"

Epel Felmier

He just asked Ace for some music that'll make him sound more badass and Ace gave him the WAP:

Epel listening to WAP be like:😳😶😨😕😭

His face is redder than a tomato after the first 30 seconds of WAP, but Ace tells him that he'd be the bravest human being ever if he takes the urge to listen to this in front of teachers.

Tries to dance to WAP and make a video with it to upload on magicam, but Vil catches him in the middle of process.💀💀💀 The video turned out pretty good though. It looks just like a mother (Ehm- Vil) getting into her child's room (Epel-) and finding them doing some crazy shit.

Idia Shroud

He's the silent and seemingly shy dude who's listening to WAP in the highest volume under those head phones during classes.

Divus Crewel: CaF2(s) + Br2(ℓ) → CaBr2(s) + F2(g)...

Inside Idia's headphones: " ~ Wh*res in this house~ there some wh*res in this house~ there some wh*res in this house~ there some wh*res in this house~"

Bonus: He once forgets to connect his headphones to his tablet before playing WAP:

[Wap is being played at max volume inside Trein's class]

Idia: *Thinks that the sound is coming from his head phones*

The classroom: "Beat it up, n*gga, catch a charge

Extra large and extra hard

Put this p**sy right in your face

Swipe your nose like a credit card"

Trein: 😳

Students: 😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳😳

Crowley about to jump down: 🤭

Idia still not realizing what the hell is going on: 'Lucy lucy baby~ hihihi- wait- why they all staring at me now...? Did they hear me internally flirt with Lucius?'

No need to say what happened to Idia after this...

Ortho Shroud

No WAP for him. You may find him reacting to "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands" if you're interested.🗿

Malleus Draconia

Thank goodness he just finds the censored version of WAP... Listens to the whole song, but doesn't understand most of the lyrics. The "Put this cookie right in your face" part confuses him the most, he doesn't get it. Why would you put a cookie in your face? Is this something humans usually to do with their desserts? Like, would they put ice cream in their faces too?

Virgin dragon keeps on asking people, including Lilia, to tell him what it means to put a cookie in one's face, yet no one seems to give him any proper answers ):

Perhaps human music just isn't his thing, he's getting back to sad violin noises which he listens to when he isn't invited.

Lilia Vanrouge

WAP go brrrrrrr. Our sassy grandpa is legit in love with this piece of gold and all of the humans for achieving such a glory. The beat is superb and the lyrics are: Delicious, motivational and creatively written.

Even better, WAP has an unofficial but smexy dance too. Old man Lilia is never too old for performing a sexy physically challenging dance.

You can now hear savage rock sounds combined with WAP playing in the background coming from his room when he's vibing in the afternoon.

(I can totally see him wearing a neko maiden costume while dancing to WAP and you can't tell me otherwise)

Silver

Finds WAP in papa Lilia's playlist...

Silver:

Sebek Zigvolt

Sweet mother of love Sebek feels like listening to WAP has taken his virginity away-

He is a good boy, no, he once was a good boy. He's no longer the worthy man he used to be now that this unholy song has tainted his soul.

Legit feels guilty and and sinful after WAP, so you can find him praying for forgiveness to that Malleus portrait in his room every night.

"Oh young master forgive my thoughtless deeds, I beg for your mercy upon me now that I've sinned..."

Dire Crowley

Not saying that a drag Queen Crowley dancing to WAP would be a thing, but a drag Queen Crowley dancing to WAP would be a thing- Everyone bow down to the Headmaster, the most gracious of them all 😩😩😩👌🏻

Please, don't blame him. Birby is under too much of pressure after the very recent overblot cases and he needs a way to let go of the stress😔😔😔

Sam

Is illegally selling copies of the WAP because most of the dorms had blocked access to this song for the students...

"Helloooooo little demons I've got the WAP! In stuck now-"

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit #idia shroud #Jamil Viper #kalim al asim #Azul Ashengrotto #jade leech #Floyd Leech #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #Deuce spade #rook hunt #Dire Crowley

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will-on-the-internet · 2 years

Text

A Little Tipsy | Haley and Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Haley meets the team for the first time when they all go to a bar for drinks after having finished a case. Later at home, Aaron asks her what she thinks about them and she gives him her slightly inebriated thoughts.

A/N: So, @unionjackpillow sent me this fantastic request, and I HAD to write it. So get ready for a slightly tipsy but adorable Haley, a sweet and embarrassed Aaron, and some not so innocent thoughts about Emily Prentiss.

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: illusions to sex, drinking!

Word Count: 1.5k

MASTERLIST AND TAGLIST FOUND ON MY NAVIGATION PAGE!

PLEASE INTERACT FOR MORE HALEY AND AARON!

It was late when Haley and Aaron got home from the local bar that the team liked to hang out. They were both exhausted, feet sore from uncomfortable shoes, and Haley was resting against Aaron’s side, his arm wrapped around her waist.

Neither of them had gone out in a long time, nights normally spent with Jack at home, or out on a case in another state. But tonight they were both lucky, because Aaron didn’t need to stay back, and their next door neighbour’s daughter had offered to baby sit Jack so Haley got a rare night off.

And now here they were, stumbling through the door, trying to be as quiet as they could while Haley muffled her giggles into the material of Aaron’s jacket and he just smiled down at her.

He ushers her upstairs, telling her to check on their sleeping son, while he thanked the babysitter and handed her a couple of twenties, closing the door softly behind her and loosening his tie, happy to finally be home.

“You know, I had a lot more fun tonight than I thought I would.” Aaron looks up from his phone as Haley comes down the stairs, heels already off and jacket discarded in the bedroom. “I’ve gotta say, your team seems pretty friendly, even though the team of you spend all your time hunting serial killers together.” Aaron huffed out a laugh, undoing the top button of his shirt after taking off his suit jacket. He could deal with that in the morning. Right now, all he wanted was a cup of green tea to dull the impending hangover, and to go to bed with his wife, who stood right in front of him.

Haley drank a little more than Aaron did, nearly finishing two glasses of red wine and half of his beer before calling it a night, and for a new mother that hadn’t had a chance to go out often, or have a night without her child, she was a little inebriated as she walked around the kitchen.

“I mean, why did it take you so long to tell me that Derek Morgan is a hunk!” Aaron nearly choked right there and then, eyes going wide as Haley turns the kettle on, pulling two mugs from the shelves and searching for the green tea she knows she put in the draw. “Oh, and that man has MOVES, Aaron, did you see him on the dancefloor?

“Don’t let Derek hear you say that, when it comes to his looks and his dance skills, his ego is bulletproof. We don’t need to make it bigger.” Haley smirks as her husband speaks, passing her the box of tea that was on the bench all along.

“Okay I’ll stop saying that Derek is gorgeous, but I will say that Penelope has the hots for him. I mean, that much is clear just from watching her watch him.” Aaron is shaking his head as Haley talks, pottering around the kitchen. “God I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman more hopelessly in love than your adorable tech girl.

“Wait, why do you think Garcia loves Derek? They’re just really close friends.” Aaron blurts out his question before his mind can fully comprehend what he’s saying, and suddenly Haley is laughing hysterically, shaking her head at her befuddled husband.

“Aaron, please tell me you’re joking right now. Of course, they’re in love. Heck, she stares at Derek like you used to stare at me in theatre class, baby.” Aaron’s cheeks heat up at that, and he looks down for a moment as she moves closer, hands resting on his shoulders.

“I wasn’t that obvious…was I?” Haley smiles at him, running a hand through his hair, glad that the gel had worn down and she could ruffle it like she always loved to do.

“Oh honey, Jess bet me ten dollars the first time we saw you that you were head over heels for me. Now, back to your team.” Pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, Haley moved back to the bench, pouring the now boiled water into the two mugs and started speaking again. “JJ might be the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen, not surprised she had nearly every man falling over their feet for a chance to dance with her. I mean, c’mon, and next time I see her, I’ve definitely gotta ask for her hair care routine, because I’ve never seen blonde hair so shiny.” Hotch nearly interjected then, wanting to tell his wife that her hair was beautiful and it needed no more shine, but Haley kept racing away, bobbing the teabags up and down in the water. “Spencer could certainly use a couple home-cooked meals, and maybe someone to try and teach him how to talk to the opposite sex…or whatever sex he’s attracted to.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, Derek’s trying to teach him, it’s just not been going great.” Aaron took the cup that Haley offered him, and smiled after taking a sip. Somehow, she got it right every time, never too strong, but never too weak.

‘Okay well, either way, whoever gets with that boy is going to be one of the luckiest people on earth, I don’t think anyone could have a problem with him.” Aaron doesn’t even try and tell Haley that just last week a whole group of police officers stared at Spencer like he had another head after he explained a fact, because Haley is seriously on a roll, and he doesn’t want to dampen the mood.

“Also, for some reason, I imagined a group of agents who looked like they’d had the life sucked out of them because they’d been hunting serial killers for so long…”

“I feel like I should be offended by that, but go on with whatever you’re about to say.” Aaron had taken Haley’s hand by then, leading her carefully up the stairs towards their bedroom after double-checking the alarm and turning off the downstairs lights, and as soon as she gave him a sweet kiss on the mouth and assured him that he wasn’t included in her imagination of his team, she started speaking again.

“Look, all I’m saying is Emily Prentiss is HOT, Aaron. If I wasn’t married to you, the absolute love of my life, I’d easily try and chat her up.” And that’s the moment where Aaron spat out his tea, coughing slightly as he tried to formulate some sort of answer. “Oh, and Emily knows it. She dances like she’s the hottest thing on the planet, which in fairness, she is…aside from you.” Aaron could only chuckle at what Haley was saying now, and as she kept talking from the connected bathroom, he started undressing and getting ready for bed.

“God I’m so glad we’re home right now, Emily does not need anyone else calling her hot.” Haley laughs at her husband’s exasperation, and turns back to look at him, his body resting on the bathroom doorframe, hair all over the place and dressed just in boxers and his undershirt.

“I’m just saying that if we ever looked into having an open relationship again, like we did in college, I wouldn’t say no to Emily joining.” Aaron groans at this, running a hand over his face before getting out of the bed.

“Okay, I think it’s time for you to go to bed and sleep off the alcohol still in your system, let’s have no more talk about how attractive my coworkers are, please.” Aaron huffed as Haley just grinned at him, moving over so he could start brushing his teeth next to her.

They moved in in sync, going about their nightly routine before finally ending up in bed together, Haley’s head resting on Aaron’s chest, blonde hair fanned out and tangled in his fingers.

“I really did have fun tonight, honestly. Your team seem sweet, and it’s clear they look up to you and respect you. And you seem comfortable with them, which is good. I know the hours and the cases have been tough, and I know you’ve been feeling guilty about missing out on time home,” she pauses for a moment, placing a finger over Aaron’s lips as he goes to speak. “But you’re doing good, Aaron. Your team are saving people, saving lives, Jack has a dad as a hero, and I have a pretty fantastic husband, you know that, right?”

Aaron just nods, pressing his forehead to Haley’s as she breathes in for a moment.

“Good, because you can’t forget that I love you, and I don’t want anything else in life. And you know what? I’m going to remind you of that right now.” Haley’s lips were crashing down on Aaron’s suddenly, a hint of mint toothpaste and green tea nearly overwhelming his senses as his arms wrapped around her and cradled her to his body.

And Aaron knew that she was right, that he was doing good work and that his team were incredible, even if he was trying to forget his wife calling two of his co-workers hot. And he knew he was loved, needed and wanted, and for now, that was good enough.

PLEASE INTERACT FOR MORE HALEY AND AARON

I don't actually have a taglist for this pairing, but I'm gonna tag some people who might be interested: @spencersendgame @gay-prentiss @genevievedarcygranger @clarawatson @hotchley @spookydrreid @hotchner-clemmons

#aaron hotchner #haley hotchner x aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #haley brooks #criminal minds #will writes!#haley x hotch #haley x aaron #emily prentiss #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jennifer jj jareau #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

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chaoticdean · 3 years

Text

Supernatural and the topic of found family — family don’t end in blood… or does it?

I know I’ve talked a great deal about the way the complete erasure of both Cas and Eileen from the two final episodes of SPN made my blood boil, but after careful consideration and a lot of talking with several very clever people (you know who you are), I think what hurt me the most on top of it all is the way Supernatural decided to essentially throw away an entire section of what made the show what it was for the best part of the last decade and a half: the topic of found family, and how they’ve carefully crafted so many important side characters and relationships only to throw them all away for the sake of having one last episode essentially disconnected from the rest of the story.

[Because I’ve talked about in great length over the course of the past week and a half, and although there are undoubtedly more issues with Supernatural’s series finale than just this (ie: the Destiel treatment and the queer erasure, along with the complete erasure of Eileen, the only disabled character this show has ever known), I’m going to concentrate solely on the treatment of found family, and why its erasure from the finale storyline is deeply upsetting on top of being utterly inexplicable. If you want to read an incredible article about this, I’d redirect you to @chill-legilimens article’s, The Trauma of Silence]

When Supernatural started airing in 2005, the show essentially focused on Sam and Dean and their relationship, with a dash of John Winchester and mending the broken pieces between a father and his sons into the mix. The first side character that gets introduced to the audience as some sort of surrogate father to both Winchesters is Bobby (1x22, Devil’s Trap), and he quickly became a fan favorite to the fandom. Interestingly enough, Bobby is also the one who comes up with the “Family don’t end with blood” line (if I’m not mistaken, the first time it’s said on the show is during 3x16, No Rest for the Wicked). Once this line gets said, it quickly became more than just a slogan within the fandom, and it’s often referenced as a motto for the show as well (Dean even uses it during his talk with Crowley in season 10 to explain what family means).

Over the years, so many characters got introduced and became fan favorites (off the top of my head, I can come up with half a dozen already) and have grown within the show, to the point where they’re introduced to the audience as some sort of found family to both Dean and Sam. The boys get invited to Jody Mills’ and her wayward daughter’s house for dinner, spend what can only be qualified as a slumber party watching Game of Thrones with Charlie Bradbury in the bunker, keep running around and bickering with Crowley, spends time in the bunker with Eileen (the margaritas and Sam and Eileen being hungover the morning after in the bunker’s kitchen lives rent-free in my head). Even the Ghostfacers keep popping in almost every season for a decade. The audience gets to learn who these characters are and connect with them on several levels, most of them also becoming fan favorites over time.

But if I had to pick only one side character to make a point, Castiel is undoubtedly the one that comes to mind first.

When Misha Collins came along during season 4, he was only supposed to be in for a couple of episodes and be done with it. But because of his masterful performance (and because the character of Anna, who gets introduced around the same time as Castiel, doesn’t seem to work as well as the writers thought it would), Misha stayed along for the whole ride, and ended his run on Supernatural 12 years and 144 episodes later, with a character that is so beloved by the fandom that it elevated him to the rank of third lead. Castiel is not only an angel of the Lord, he’s also Sam and Dean’s best friend who would do anything to protect them (and, well, has done so, multiple times). He’s grown within the show to the point where the audience directly refers to him as being one of the family, even though he’s not blood, because “Family don’t end with blood” after all.

Another example that is particularly telling over the course of the last couple of seasons is the treatment of Jack’s character, who’s quickly adopted by the boys and referred to as “their kid”, the three of them acting like surrogate dads even though in the end, Jack is Lucifer’s son. Once again, the show makes a point of showing the audience that although Jack is not related to Sam and Dean in any way (I’m guessing since Lucifer is basically Castiel’s brother, he is somewhat related to Cas, but since I don’t have a degree in angel DNA, I can’t 100% be sure), he’s still family, he still matters.

The story basically tells the audience that even though you might not have a blood-related family, that doesn’t prevent you to find people along your life’s journey that becomes intrinsically connected to your story, both on a deeply emotional and practical level. It tells you that you’re not required to have a blood family to be someone’s kid, or sister, or brother. It tells you that blood doesn’t define who you choose to share your life with, and most importantly, it tells you that you’re allowed to choose.

So why on Earth did anyone think that ending Supernatural’s 15-year run with an episode that essentially showcases Sam and Dean and sidelines the wide majority of the family they found along the way (with the exception of OG Bobby showing up in Heaven) was a good idea?

Don’t get me wrong, I love Bobby, I really do… But what was the excuse for not having either Misha back (the literal third lead of the show, who confessed to being in love with Dean, the second lead of the show, two episodes prior), or Alex (Jack being one of the main focus of the past two seasons at least)? I get that Covid made all of this difficult, but you can’t tell me you’ve been able to bring back Mark Pellegrino’s Lucifer for a two minutes and a half cameo in 15x19, but not Misha fucking Collins to end his character’s arc (and Dean’s, who’s arc is deeply wired with Castiel’s) after 12 years.

I’m gonna say it again, because I feel like it’s been used as an excuse for everything ever since the finale aired: Covid cannot be the sole excuse for everything. It cannot account for the absence of literally EVERYONE around the Winchesters.

At that point, I should probably add that although I was incredible baffled by the one-off mention of Cas (well, two, if you count Sam saying he misses him and Dean deflecting during the Pie Fest at the beginning of the episode), what probably set me off the most is the part of Dean’s death speech where he says “when it all came down to it, it was always you and me, it’s always been you and me”.

I’m sorry Dean, you know I love you to pieces, but what the actual fuck was that? What does it even mean? That single line essentially strips away any kind of meaningful contribution of any side characters… Including Castiel “always happy to bleed for the Winchesters”’s, and Jack’s who quite literally saved the whole world ONE EPISODE PRIOR.

Not to mention that the fact we don’t get to see Cas again leave Dean’s entire character’s arc incomplete. What was the point of season 15, which focused so deeply on Dean and Cas’ relationship, if in the end the entire character’s arc gets dropped?

So what’s the message being sent here?

“Found family was a myth, it’s always been sorely about the Winchesters”?

“Ha! Tricked ya!”?

Why did Supernatural, after a decade and a half spent consolidating the contribution of side characters, decided to essentially throw it all away?

Why did Supernatural, after a decade spent crafting meaningful relationships within the show, decided to light it all up on fire and end its run with an episode that basically tells the audience that none of it really mattered, it’s always been sorely about Dean and Sam.

I would’ve been fine with a Sam and Dean episode if Castiel had more than a one-off mention, if they didn’t give Sam a blurry wife, if Dean had the funeral he deserved (with a rock band, whisky, and all the fellow hunters and family he found along the way), if Sam didn’t spend the rest of his life mourning his brother. I would’ve been fine with only getting Jim Beaver on screen (because Covid) if we had been given something more than just Dean driving for his last 5 minutes on screen. It would have been FINE, if Supernatural hadn’t essentially forgotten about what made Supernatural, well, Supernatural.

Long story short, I feel tricked. And I know a lot of you feel tricked too, because this isn’t what we’ve been fed for the past 15 years. Supernatural was a show about finding your way through life and death and horror and trauma, with help from people you found along the way who became linked to your story because you cared for each other. And Supernatural ended by telling us that found family didn’t really matter, that Dean was always going to die on a random hunt, that Sam could never be truly happy without his brother by his side. Talk about a downgrade, uh?

I don’t know why they decided to throw their entire legacy to the wind. Truth be told, I don’t think we’ll ever get to know. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to stay pissed about it. That doesn’t mean I’m going to ever be okay with my favorite show deciding to end its run with a finale episode so deeply disconnected from their 15-year story that it felt utterly shallow.

They said “Family don’t end with blood”… But after all of this, doesn’t it, though?

#idk what this is i had a lot of feelings #spn meta #sorta #found family #spn #spn 15x20 #jus.meta

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perlukafarinn · 3 years

Text

(ao3)

The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again.

Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less.

Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.

Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago.

Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to.

The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.

“Should we get married?”

Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.

“What.”

Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”

“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”

“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”

Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”

“I suppose I am.”

“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”

“Will you marry me?”

Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas.

“Are you sure?”

He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it.

Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”

Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”

“Now?”

It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!

They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.

Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.

The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.

The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.

He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.

This doesn’t change anything.

Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.

This really doesn’t change anything.

Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.

They’re married.

When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.

Dean has a better idea.

“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”

They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place.

Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”

“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”

“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.

The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.

Damn psychics.

Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.

And yet, nothing.

Dean tries not to feel too smug.

They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.

It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:

“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”

And all hell breaks loose.

Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.

“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.

“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly.

Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account).

Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone.

It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips.

“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.

“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”

“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely.

“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up.

The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.

“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters.

Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.

“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

#deancas #destiel #spn fanfic #perlukafarinn writes #fluff #domestic #post-canon #established relationship #thank u to miriam who read through most of this #and assured me that it's plenty gay!

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rowyn-writes · 3 years

Text

A Mother's Love Part Two

Warnings: Pregnancy, fluff, major angst, implications of depression

Pairings: Dean x Wife!Reader

Characters: Dean, Jack, Sam, Reader, Cas (Mentioned only)

Word count: 3k

You sat on the couch of your childhood home, staring blankly at the T.V. Your knees were pulled up to your chin as you had your arms wrapped around your legs. It had been three weeks since you left the bunker, and you felt empty inside.

Your mother sat beside you, a cup of tea and honey in her hand and a concerned look on her face. "Darling, you have to eat something. I know you haven't been feeling well, but you still need to stay healthy." You didn't respond to her as she set the cup of tea in your hands.

Everything felt numb. It was like you didn't feel any emotions at all. The world felt dull. Like all color had been stripped and it left you in darkness.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" She asked softly. Even though you had been with your parents for almost a month now, you had never fully discussed what happened with Dean.

"Mom, please-"

"No, Y/N." She put her foot down. "You call me one day, clearly upset saying that you and Jack were going to stay here for a while. You get here and you don't look like the daughter that I knew. You've changed."

You scoffed at your mother's words. "I'm getting a divorce, of course I've changed."

She sucked in a breath of air. "Y/N. What happened?" You gave your mother a brief rundown of what happened with you, Dean and Jack. "Oh, honey." She sympathized. "I am so sorry. You know that you and Jack are welcomed to stay as long as you like. I know your father is excited to have a grandchild."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up to your mother. "What?"

"Jack, of course." She explained. "Look at them. Your dad's so happy. It's about time you give us a grandson."

"Lord knows you couldn't count on Chris for that." You rolled your eyes. "He can't keep a girl to save his life." Your smile began to fade slightly as your stomach did flips. Your mom noticed your green complexion and ran to grab a trash can. It was nearly too late as you felt your dinner from last night coming back up. She held your hair back as you did so, calling for your dad to get a wet washcloth.

You felt a cold cloth across your forehead, cooling your body. "Mom!" Jack said worriedly. "Are you okay?.

"She's okay, kiddo." Your dad assured him. "She's just not feeling too well." He mumbled skeptically.

You sat back against the couch, holding the rag to your head. "Jack," Your mom called. "Why don't you and I go make some cookies?"

Jack smiled at the idea, looking to you for approval. "You don't have to ask me, sweetheart. Go have fun."

You mother dipped down to whisper something unintelligible in your dad's ear before going to the kitchen.

"Y/N," He shook his head. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Because I don't want it to be real." You muttered. "I don't want to think about the last thing that Dean said to me or the look on his face. I want to wake up and for this whole thing to be a dream. But I know it's not. I won't wake up next to him tomorrow and I don't get to tell him how much I love him." You chocked on a sob, covering you mouth with your hand so Jack wouldn't hear.

"Oh, my sweet girl." Your dad said softly, pulling you into his side. "I am so sorry, my darlin'." You rested your head on his shoulder as tears slipped down your cheeks. "That's not it, though. Is it? There's something else."

"Papa, I think I'm pregnant." You confessed. "I'm late and I've been sick all week."

"Have you taken a test yet?" He asked. You shook your head. "Okay, I'll tell you what. I'll go by the drug store and get a couple of tests, just to be sure, and I'll grab you some food on the way home. How does that sound?"

"Great." You said with a small smile. He kissed the top of your head before grabbing the keys and heading out of the house.

---

Five.

Five tests that had come back positive. Each one that you looked at made your heart sink more and more. "Oh god." You whimpered. "Damnit."

"What does it say, sweetie?" Your mother questioned from the other side of the door. You slowly opened it up and showed her the positive pregnancy test.

"Are they all positive?" You nodded.

"What am I gonna do?"

"I think you should call Dean-"

"No." You said firmly. "I'm not calling Dean. He made it very obvious that he didn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"Y/N," Your mother spoke firmly. "I'm not justifying what Dean said or did in the moment, however, he was just as hurt as you were because you were leaving with Jack and you didn't know how long you would be gone. I really think you should call him. I think he would want to know you're pregnant with his baby."

You sighed at her words. You knew she had a point. She was your mother, she's always right. "What if he doesn't care?" You whispered. "What if he hears my voice and hands up on me?"

"Then that's his loss, honey." She cooed. "The least you can do is try."

---

MEANWHILE, AT THE BUNKER;

"Dean." Sam shook his brother. "Dean. C'mon dude, wake up."

Dean groaned as his eyes peeled open. "What?" He grumbled.

"You've been sleeping in here all night." Sam said, crossing his arms. "You should probably get some rest in your own bed, or at the very least, the couch. And charge your phone while you're at it, it's dead."

Dean stretched add he looked at the empty whiskey bottle set on the table and the picture of your wedding day beside it. It had been a rough few weeks since you had left. "You know I can't go sleep in that damn bed." He growled.

"Dean, I offered to switch rooms with you-"

"I don't want to switch rooms!" He snapped. "I want my wife back."

Sam frowned as he looked at his brother. He looked awful. He hasn't shaven in weeks, his hair's a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Why don't you call her, Dean?"

"Because, after what I said, she'll never take me back. I was too harsh on her. Plus my phone is broken."

"One, you have ten phones, and two, yeah, you were a complete ass." Sam agreed. "You should have seen her when she left here. I had never seen anyone so. . . Broken before. You know they sparkle she had in her eyes?" Dean nodded. "It was gone. Her entire face seemed dull, almost like she had aged ten years."

Dean put his head in his hands, feeling defeated. "What have I done?"

"I don't know, but you had better make it right."

---

"Still no answer?" Your father asked. You had called Dean three times now and still no answer.

"Nope. Not a sound."

"I'm sorry honey," Your mother sympathized, rubbing your back. It's that anything we can do?"

"Yeah," You nodded. "I need space. I need to spend more time with Jack before the baby comes. I just want to know what it's like to be a mother."

"Of course." Your dad agreed. "Take the keys to the cabin in Colorado. I know that's a lot of good memories there and no pesky neighbors to worry about "

"Thanks, dad." You smiled. "We'll be outta here soon."

"You don't have to leave in a rush, kiddo. You know that we love having you here."

"I know."

---

"Why are we going to your parents cabin in Colorado?" Jack asked curiously as he peered out the window.

"Uh," You bit your lip as you tried to come up with a suitable lie to tell Jack. You hated how much you were lying to Jack lately, but you knew that he wouldn't understand the things that you were going through. "I just wanted to show you the place and stay up there for a little while. It's nice and quiet, you'll love it. It's cold up there and it's snowy in the winter. I used to go sledding all the time when I was younger and then my parents would call me in for hot chocolate and a movie. We can do that together. How does that sound, Jack?"

"It sounds great, Mom!" He smiled goofily. Every time he called you 'Mom,' your heart melted. You loved that Jack felt so comfortable around you to call you his mother. You knew that you would never be able to replace Kelly, and you would never want to, but you did want to make him feel safe and loved. You wanted Jack to know what a mother's love feels like. Jack blamed himself for the death of his mother, and you understood his grief, but you had told him time and time again that it wasn't his fault. Kelly wanted to go through with the pregnancy and refused to listen to anyone else's opinions on the matter. You just wished he understood that.

You felt a tear roll down your cheek, quickly wiping it away. "What's wrong, Mom?" Jack questioned. "Is it about Dean?"

You glanced over at Jack in surprise. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, Sam and Dean aren't here, and Dean hasn't called you to check up on you since we left. I know that whenever you go on a hunt by yourself, Dean calls you everyday to make sure you're okay."

You sighed heavily as you looked at the road in front of you. "Dean and I are. . . Going through a tough time right now. That's why I wanted to get away for a while. And I didn't want to go by myself, so that's why I wanted you to come with me."

"Are we ever going back to the bunker?"

"I don't know. . . It's a difficult situation, Jack. Right now, I don't think that I will be going back home anytime soon. But if you want to go back, I'll take you back. I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do."

"I want to stay with you." He said firmly. "But I also want you to be happy. You don't look happy anymore. You don't smile or laugh the way you used to. You sit on the couch watching reruns of Friends, and I've heard you crying at night. Sometimes I think you forget that I don't sleep very much."

You said nothing in response, knowing that Jack was right. You wanted to call Dean one more time, but you knew it was fruitless. He wasn't going to answer. But you did have Sam. When you finally arrived at the cabin, you sent Jack to unpack while you dialed Sam's number. After three rings, he finally picked up.

"Hello, Y/N? Are you okay? How's Jack?" He asked in one breath.

"Hey, Sammy. I'm fine, and so is Jack. I just wanted to call and make sure that you haven't gotten killed by anything."

"Nope, we're still alive." He gave a small chuckle. "How are you, Y/N, really? Don't lie to me, because I know when you're lying."

"I miss him." You sniffed. "Being away from him hurts me." Your voice cracked, forcing you to clear your throat. "We've been married for five years. And I know that to the average person that doesn't seem like a long time, but we're hunters, Sam. You know how hard it is to stay in a relationship in our line of work. I've been in love with him for half my life, and now, for us to be in this situation, it sucks, Sam. I can't think of any other word to describe it. It really fucking sucks."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he listened to you cry. "I'm sorry this is happening, Y/N. I never thought that this would happen to you and Dean. But I've known Dean my whole life, and I've known you since we were twenty, so I think that I'm entitled to make a judgement on this." You let out a small laugh. "You two have been in love longer than you've been together, but both of you have been to dumb to realize it. You argue like cats and dogs because you're so certain about what you believe in. You're both so passionate about things that you never let up. And now that you're finally together, you have been so happy. Dean has never felt this way about anyone that he's been with, male or female. He loves you so much, Y/N, that it kills him. You have both come too far to for things to end like this. I'm going to tell you the exact same thing I told Dean; fix this."

"I want to, Sammy, I just don't know how."

"Stop hiding, for one. You can't fix something when you're hundreds of miles away." You groaned as you felt a wave of nausea was over you. "Y/N?" You quickly made your way to the bathroom. "Y/N? What's going on? Are you okay?"

You leaned against the wall once you were done throwing up. "Yeah, yeah, Sam, I'm okay."

"What was that about, then?" Sam questioned. When you didn't answer, he began putting the pieces together himself. "You're pregnant."

"SHH!" You hissed. "Don't say that!"

"Why not? Because you don't want Dean to know?" He spoke coldly.

"Sam, please, don't say anything."

"How long have you known, Y/N? And how long do you plan on keeping this from Dean?"

You sighed as you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I've known for a couple of days, okay? And I don't know when or how I'm going to tell Dean. He made it very clear that he didn't want anything to do with me the last time we talked. Besides, I tried to call him and he didn't answer my calls, so don't try to pin me off as the bad guy here."

"When did you try to call him?" The hard edge in Sam's voice disappeared.

"Three days ago, when I found out I was pregnant."

You could hear Sam let out a small laugh. "Three days ago I came in the kitchen to find Dean passed out on the table, hung over as hell and holding on to the picture of your wedding day. And beside him was his broken phone. His main phone, which I'm assuming is the one that you called?"

"Yeah. . ." You said meekly.

"Hang up and call his second phone. Please, will you do that for me?"

"Yes," You nodded, even though you knew he couldn't see you.

"I love you, Y/N/N."

"I love you too, Sammy." You sighed as you hung up the phone. You were terrified to call Dean. You hadn't spoken to him since that night all those weeks ago. You were still hurt, and you knew that Dean was hurting as well, and all you wanted was to hear his voice. You took a deep breath as you dialed his second phone number.

It rang five times before going to voicemail, making your heart sink. Not a minute later, the number called back. "Hello?"

"Y/N." Dean's voice said gruffly. "Sam told me you were going to call."

"Did. . . Did he tell you anything else?" You asked.

"Just that I needed to talk to you. What's going on?"

"I miss you," You confessed. You needed to tell Dean everything, and that included telling him how you felt. "I hate the way things ended between us, and I know that it wasn't solely on you or me. But I love you, Dean, and I will never stop loving you. And I know it's unfair I left and this is how I'm trying to get you back; over the phone. I would much rather be doing this in person. But I love you, Dean, and I always will. No matter what you say or do, I love you."

You could hear Dean struggling to breathe correctly. "Where are you?"

"My parents cabin, wh-"

"I'll be tomorrow morning." And with that, he hung up.

---

You paced back and forth in the living room, biting your nails. Dean didn't say what time he was going to be here, but he just said that he would be here in the morning. You had stayed up all night thinking about him. About the way his hair fell into his face after a shower, and how he always smelled like whiskey and firewood. The way his eyes would crinkle at the edges whenever he laughed, really laughed. But your favorite thing was when you had just finished a hunt, and you would go to lie down in bed, Dean would pull you close to him and whisper how much he loves you.

A sharp knock at the door snapped you out of your trance. "Who is it, Mom?" Jack asked, peering around the corner.

"Why don't you come see, kiddo." You wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans before opening the door to reveal Sam and Dean. "Hi," You smiled. Sam was the first to come inside and hug you. He grinned as he pulled away, ruffling your hair.

"Why don't I take Jack into town for a little bit while you guys work this out?" He suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. Jack, go put on your shoes, you're going into town with Sam for a little while." Jack beamed at your works, hurriedly putting his shoes on a following Sam out the door.

"Hi," You said once more after Sam and Jack were gone. Dean didn't say a word as he hugged you tightly. You melted into his touch, feeling comfort in his embrace. The familiar smell of whiskey and firewood filled your nostrils. You closed your eyes to savor this moment. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

taglist:

@vicariouslythruspn @mimaria420 @fofisstilinski @daphnen21 @katwed @anunstablefangirl @desimarie12 @alderpine @rebeccaitsnotwhatyouthink @akshi8278

Also, yes, there will be a part 3

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #Sam Winchester #jack kline imagine #Jack Kline #jack imagine #supernatural #Supernatual #Supernatural angst #supernatural imagine #supernatural fluff #supernatural x reader

300 notes · View notes

dragonsdomain · 3 years

Text

Lair

“Well that explains why you’ve never been to your lair,” Ember said, smirking. “You didn’t even know it existed.”

Danny laughed before turning his attention back to the oddly familiar door in front of him. “Well I do spend most of my time in the human world. And I don’t even usually pay much attention to these doors. There are so many. How’d you find it?”

“Ectosignature, silly,” Ember said, rapping a knuckle on the wood. “Don’t you know anything about ghost culture?”

Danny looked away, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

“Er, sorry. I guess that was a dumb question,” Ember said. She gestured to the door. “Well here you go! There’s your lair. You can… ya know… explore it and stuff.”

Danny moved to open the door but let his hand hover over the knob, strangely apprehensive. “What was… what was inside?”

Ember’s eyebrows flew up. “You think I went inside?” She sounded dumbfounded. “Even if lair doors weren’t locked until the owner of the lair first opens them, Don’t you know how- I mean…” She corrected herself. “It is super rude to enter a ghost’s lair uninvited.”

Danny’s mouth formed a silent “O”, causing Ember to perform a facepalm. That did explain some of the encounters he’d had in the Ghost Zone.

“Well, uh…” Danny’s attention fell back to the door in front of him. “Do you at least have some idea of what I might find in here? I mean… what’s a lair usually like?”

“Eh, I don’t know exactly how it works,” Ember said, leaning back in the air thoughtfully. “I think sometimes they’re connected to your obsession. Sometimes they’re just like, where you’d be happiest or thrive the best.” She shrugged. “I dunno, I’m no scientist.”

Danny exhaled a puff of air. “Okay. That doesn’t sound so bad.” He placed his hand on the handle of the door. He hesitated. Why was he so nervous?

Vaguely ominous notes began strumming from behind him. Danny turned towards the girl behind him who was currently plucking out the foreboding background music on her guitar with a mischievous half-smile on her face.

“You know, you’re not helping,” Danny said in slight exasperation.

Ember stopped playing as she stifled a snicker. “All right, all right,” She said, feigning offense. “I’ll take my leave. Don’t die in there!” She said before speeding off into the foggy expanse of the Ghost Zone.

“Still not helping!” Danny called after her before turning back to the door.

Danny put his hand back on the handle. He hadn’t noticed taking it off. Perhaps because of curiosity, perhaps because of some unidentifiable anxiety, he paused before opening the door to examine its exterior. It looked familiar somehow, yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on where he’d seen it before. It was something he knew he should know, but the recollection of where the door was from escaped him.

He sighed. Come on. Just open the door. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

He opened the door.

And he suddenly remembered where he’d seen that door before.

Behind the door lay a perfect replica of his own bedroom. He looked around in puzzlement as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Every detail was the same, all his model spaceships exactly where they should be, the little glow-in-the-dark stars arranged on the ceiling as close to the night sky as he’d been able to get them, everything precisely where it should be all the way down to the math homework laid out on his desk which he’d only gotten that morning.

Danny looked behind himself at the door, an eyebrow raised questioningly. Had the door just taken him to his own bedroom? His own house? Was the ghost lair of a halfa just his own home?

He looked back at his room and let out a laugh, changing back to human form. He felt a little disappointed that his adventure had simply led him back to where he went every day, but mostly relieved. He’d been afraid he’d find… well, something… in his lair that he didn’t want to find. His lair simply being his own bedroom was a bit underwhelming, but far from the worst it could have been.

In fact, he thought as he looked back at the oh, so familiar door, it was a little convenient that he’d been dropped off straight at home. He’d had his little adventure, and now he could commence his evening again right off the bat.

As Danny opened the door, he was pleased to see that it opened to the hall of his house, not back into the Ghost Zone. Yep, he was back at home.

“Danny, come down for dinner!” his mother’s voice echoed up the stairwell.

“Coming!” Yep, very convenient that he’d been brought straight here. He didn’t want to make his parents suspicious by missing dinner again.

He reached the bottom of the stairs and was promptly greeted by his parents and sister, all sitting down at the dinner table.

“Hey,” Danny said as he sat down, looking around dubiously. “...Why are we all eating dinner together? What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, Danno! Except that your mother and I thought it might be nice to have family dinners more often,” Dad explained.

“We know you’ve been having a bit of a rough time with school and, well, everything, and something’s obviously going on with you that you’re not telling us,” Mom began.

Anxiety spiked in Danny’s gut. Did they know? Were they going to figure it out? How did he mess up enough to tip them off to that fact? They couldn’t figure out his secret; they’d hate him if they knew that he was a-

“...But we just want you to know that we love you no matter what. And nothing could ever change that.”

“We wouldn��t even stop loving you if you became a ghost!” Dad bellowed jovially. Mom rolled her eyes at him but smiled at Danny in silent agreement to the statement.

Danny sat back, stunned. Did he hear that right?

Jazz looked as surprised as he was. “Did you just say you’d love him even if...?” Her question trailed off.

Mom cocked an eyebrow. “...He was a ghost? Of course. He’d still be our Danny.”

It was too good to be true. Danny still almost couldn’t believe what he’d heard. Tears pricked his eyes. “Thanks. That’s… good to hear.”

At the sight of the tears Mom wrapped an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “Oh, sweetie, was that what you’ve been worrying about? Why you always look so scared when we talk about ghost hunting?”

“It’s just that, the way you’ve been treating Phantom…”

“Oh, we actually just made a truce with him this morning.”

...Wait. What?

Danny glanced at Jazz in confusion. She was grinning at him, but stopped when she saw his confusion. What? She mouthed.

Danny’s eyes dropped to the table in puzzlement. Something was wrong here. That hadn’t happened. At least not to him. Was there a ghost impersonating him or something? He really needed to get Jazz alone to talk about it.

Just when he was about to speak, something beeped loudly down in the lab.

Mom and Dad’s eyes met. “Jack, did you forget to-” Mom started.

“Yes.”

At that, they both rushed down the stairs.

“...Perfect timing.” Danny muttered to himself. He looked at Jazz. “I didn’t make a truce with Mom and Dad this morning.”

Jazz frowned. “But you told me about it during lunch. It happened during first period, remember? You missed that chemistry test to go fight Skulker? And you told me about how you were worried that was going to make you fail chemistry but I told you your grades were great even if you couldn’t retake it?” Danny looked more confused by the second. “You don’t remember any of that?”

“Jazz, since when have my grades been great?”

Jazz raised an eyebrow, pulled out her phone, and showed him his grades on it. He stood up and walked around the table to get a better look. Straight A’s.

Danny stumbled back. That- he didn’t have straight A’s, what- something wasn’t right-

“Jazz, where are Sam and Tucker?” Danny asked hesitantly.

“I think they said they were going to be coming over any minute now.”

At that exact moment the door burst open. Sam and Tucker entered, looking too happy, too healthy, much too carefree. Oh no, not them too.

“Danny!” They called out, rushing to give him a hug. Danny returned their embrace stiffly.

“Hey guys. You look like you’re doing… really well.”

Sam snorted, pushing him away. “Well you sound weirdly disappointed about that. What, do you miss all the ghost fighting we used to do?”

“Used to do?”

Jazz looked down at Danny in concern. “Are you okay, Danny? Don’t you remember all the truces you made with the ghosts? You’ve hardly had to fight anyone for weeks.”

“...I…” Was he in some kind of alternate timeline? How did he get here?

He suddenly remembered something Ember had said about ghost lairs: “Sometimes they’re just like, where you’d be happiest or thrive the best.”

Of course.

“...This isn’t real…” Danny whispered.

“What?” Jazz asked.

“It’s not… you’re not real!” Danny stepped back and glared at the things that looked like his friends and sister.

“Dude, of course we’re real,” Tucker said, reaching out a hand in concern.

Danny slapped it away and stepped back again. “No, you’re all just figments of my imagination or something.” He stepped back again and found his back against the door. “This isn’t real. It’s all just… fake.” He wasn’t really talking to the people in front of him anymore. He slid down to the floor and buried his face in his hands. “Why would Mom and Dad actually make a truce with me? Or be willing to accept me? Of course it’s not real.”

A hand rested on his shoulder. “Danny-” Jazz began.

Danny flung her hand away and phased through the door behind him, ignoring the shouts of surprise from those in the room. He found himself back outside his lair, in the Ghost Zone. A glance over his shoulder revealed the door, which looked like his bedroom door again, still shut. No concerned voices leaked through. Nothing thrust the door open to search for him.

He stared at the door numbly. It had been nice while it lasted, to have a dinner with his family, to have his parents not plotting his murder for once, to see Sam and Tucker without injuries stemming from his folly. Even if it wasn’t real.

A wry chuckle escaped his lips at the same moment as tears began to well in his eyes.

Of course it couldn’t be real.

#Danny Phantom #Oneshot #Angst #My Fanfics

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years

Text

Aaron Hotchner / Ready for More

Summary: Aaron had married Haley right out of high school. He didn’t need a second or a third -- he just needed her. But things change. And after she’s gone, he’s finally ready for another relationship -- he’s finally ready for you.

Prompts: Aaron’s first time after Haley (second time overall)

Warnings: E, smut, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk,

Word Count: 3,387

Aaron Hotchner rarely felt nervous. But the few times he did, he was always grateful for the feeling — the jitters deep in his stomach, the adneradline that flooded his bloodstream, that occupied his muscles, and roused his mind — as this feeling kept him alive. However, right now — he adjusted the collar of his shirt, smoothing the stray hairs on his head — he wished he could be rid of the feeling. Right now, it wasn’t keeping him alive — in fact it was close to killing him, eating away at what semblance of cool he had left, and that was already too little. He scrubbed at his face, holding his forehead, feeling the brush of his fingers against his skin, noting the notable absence of cool metal of his wedding band.

It had taken him far too long to stop wearing it. It had taken him even longer to put it away. It felt like another part of him at this point, a part of his heart he was ripping from himself, hiding away in a drawer. But it was necessary. It was needed. He had to move on. He owed it to himself. And, he glanced at his phone — your last text still on his lockscreen: Looking forward to tonight! :) — he owed it to you too.

But still, his nerves remained on edge. And he knew exactly why.

It had been a long time for him. A long time since he had dated. He had the love story everyone wanted. He had met Haley in high school, high school sweethearts who married out of school, and stayed together for years. But no love story was perfect, and many didn’t have a happy ending. And nothing about his ending was happy. But it ended, nonetheless.

But that’s when he met you. A coincidence really.

He was shopping for Jack’s school supplies on his own, with only a list of things to keep him company. Jack was spending time with his grandfather and Jessica, his last day to do so before schools opened up, and here he was doing last minute school shopping by himself. Well, until you wandered by.

“Do you need help?” a knowing smile on your lips, your eyes flitted from the sheet to his seemingly hopeless expression, "I saw the list and figured—"

"Is that obvious?" You laugh, shaking your head, as he notes the absence of your nametag, “Do you work here?”

You nod, “I own the store,” you gesture around, “we have a lot of parents coming in today since all the big chain stores are fresh out of supplies and now they are trickling into the smaller ones.”

“Must be good for business,” and you shrug.

“Doesn’t hurt,” you hold out your hand, “let me take a look, we can have you out of here and back home with your—?”

“Son,” you smile, “his name’s Jack.”

Your eyes scan the list with a nod, “So we have everything, except one of these things, those three ring binders went fast today,” he frowns, his head throbbing at the prospect of hunting a three ring binder down today, “but I have a friend who owns a shop not to far from here. I’ll make a call and see if he can hold one for you.”

“You don’t have to—”

You shake your head, another smile graced your lips, and he felt his heart thump against his ribs, “I want to,”

“I don’t think I caught your name,” he says, and you hold your hand out.

“Don’t think you asked,” you offer your name with a ghost of a chuckle in your voice, and little did he know that’s not all you would offer him.

You offered to accompany him to pick up that binder. You offered a few suggestions for Jack’s reading list over coffee. You offered comfort. You offered friendship. Eventually, you offered him love. And more importantly, you offered him the time he needed to take with this. Patience for your first kiss. Patience with labels. Patience with your heart, which he knew he held so delicately in his hands. And patience with something else as well.

He hadn’t slept with anyone, but Haley. Ever. She was his first and his last — for everything. First kiss, first love, first lover. And last.

But now he was ready — he was ready for more. He was ready for —- the doorbell rings — he was ready for you, for all of you.

“Always right on time,” he says as he opens the door, finding you in a black number that rode dangerously above your knee, his eyes skimming your bare legs before flicking up to the smirk across your scarlet lips.

“I have to be, don’t I?” Your arms wrap around his neck, tugging him closer, his hands finding your waist, “don’t know when you’re going to be mysteriously pulled away by your lover.”

“My lover?” he feels your laugh fan across his fan, as you press your lips to his.

“Work, obviously,” he buries a laugh in your neck, pulling you even closer.

“So does that make you my mistress?" He swore he felt you shiver under his touch, your words practically whispered against his ear.

"I like the sound of that," you kiss his cheek, lingering a moment longer, before pulling back and smiling at him, "but I was promised dinner, wasn't I?"

You squeeze his hand, and he nods, fingers laced together as he let you in. Tonight was going to be the night.

~~~

"I didn't know you knew how to make paella," you sip at your drink, smiling over your now empty plate, "or that you could make it so well."

"Well I've been living on dinosaur nuggets for so long that I nearly forgot I could too," his hand brushes your knee before resting there, his thumb rubbing up and down, "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he murmurs, kissing you, and you taste the saffron on his tongue — it tastes even better on his lips.

Something was different about tonight.

He grabs your plate and his own, and you hop off the stool, "I can help clean up—" but he waves you off, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Just relax,” he says, placing the dishes in the sink, and you sigh, leaning against your hand, as you eye him in the jeans you had helped him pick out the week before. They were...very flattering, which was part of the reason you had insisted on them.

“Oh I am,” you hummed, as he shoots you a look over his shoulder, spotting your eyes entirely glued to his ass, “I’m enjoying the show.”

“Oh are you?” you hear the smile in his voice, his gaze still fixed on the dishes, “well consider this a teaser.”

You raise a brow, “A teaser? So I can expect more later?”

The clink of the dish against the dish rack, “If you’re good,”

His tone was rough and husky, teasing even — the words raking over your body and sucking the air from your lungs. Oh something was definitely different, as a distinct heat settles over you, a tension coming into view that you hadn’t even noticed. Until now, as you shift in the stool, heat stoked between your thighs with just his simple words.

Oh, something was definitely different.

“In that case,” you slip from the stool, “let me freshen up in the bathroom.”

The door clicks close behind you, and you cover your mouth, ‘Oh my god,’ you mouth silently, fingers nearly messing up your perfectly painted lips.

He had invited you over tonight. No Jack. No kiddie food. He had dressed up in the collared shirt you liked, his arms on full display for you.

He wanted to sleep with you tonight — the thought of it sent shivers down your spine. The pace had been achingly slow, almost painfully so, but only because you loved him. And you did — which is what made waiting so worth it for this man who deserved nothing but love, especially after all he and his son had lost.

But, you resisted the urge to bite your lips, could you give it to him?

You had told you he hadn’t been with anyone since Haley, not until you. You wanted it to be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, so badly, but — you fussed with the hem of your dress — it was a lot to live up to.

You swallow the lump in your throat, but still nerves flutter in the pit of your stomach. But you choose not to focus on your shaking hands or jumbled feelings. He wanted this. He wanted you. And god knows, you’ve wanted him for so long. And each time he had pulled you into his lap, spread across his thighs, you’ve wanted him more — desire still burnt into your thighs, even though the bruises he left weren’t.

You emerged from the bathroom, finding him sitting on the couch with two glasses in his hands. You rounded it with familiar ease, sitting right beside him, and plucking one of the glasses from his hands. His arm rested against the top of the couch, the other still holding his drink.

“Welcome back,” he says, as you take a sip.

“Was my absence noted, Agent?” you mumble, as he leans closer, stealing another kiss, his tongue flicking against your mouth playfully.

"Of course," he takes the glass from your fingers, placing it and his own on a coaster, before his hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking the length of your cheek, "It always is."

"Aaron," you breath mingles with his own, as he dares even closer, noses brushing. He finally kisses you, your hand finds his shoulder, grounding yourself. He swallows your soft moan eagerly, his teeth digging into your lip. His large hand rests on your hip, and you crawl into his lap, splayed across his thighs. His fingers graze your bare thighs, teasing the hem of your dress, before venturing where you wanted him.

You part, his lips now lingering against the soft skin of your neck, all teeth and tongue, and your hips jerk against his, unconsciously, searching for some friction against the growing bulge in his jeans. Your touch soft, you pull him away, biting back a moan at his kiss ruined lips, “Are you sure, Aaron?” your fingers card through the hair resting on the back of his neck, “I don’t want you to do this if you’re not ready.”

His fingers trace your jaw sweetly, “I am, sweetheart. I’ve thought about this, a lot,” he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing chaste kisses to each finger, “I love you. I love what we have, but I’m ready for more. I want this. I want you.” he adds softly with a kiss to your palm, “if you’ll have me.”

Tears well in your eyes, as you cup his face and smash your lips to his, “I’ll always have you, Aaron. Again and again and again,” you murmur against his lips, and you pull a groan from him, as his arm winds around your waist, closing what little gap was left between you.

Your fingers tug at the hem of his shirt carefully. You would take this slow — you waited this long, you would wait forever for him. But it seems you don’t have to, as his arms rise, allowing you to tug the shirt over his head. Your eyes rake over the expanse of his chest with reverence, slowly tracing over the dips and divots, your touch lingering on his scars.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, as you shake your head, trailing kisses down his body, slipping down to your knees in front of him. Your lips dwelling over the scar on his stomach, the knife wound from the monster who had killed Haley, the very same one that almost took Aaron from you — before you even had him. His eyes grow sad, a sigh on his lips, “you don’t—”

“Every part of you,” you mumble against his skin, and he shivers under your attention, “every memory, every scar, every bump — I want to know every part of you,” and you brush your nose over his nose, “because I love every part of you.”

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching as your fingers now find themselves at the hem of his jeans, toying with the button, “Baby,” he groans, as your hand begins to massage him, staring up with wide eyes and a wide smile on your lips, “fuck, I won’t last very long if you—”

“Then don’t,” you pop the button open, and he helps you pull these jeans and his boxers off, lifting his hips so he can then kick them off, “let me take care of you, Aaron. Let me be good.”

You eye his cock, thick and long, pre-cum nearly dripping from his tip. He stares at you with half lidded eyes, mouth falling open as your lips brush his cock, "Sweetheart, your mouth," a guttural groan deep in his throat, as your fingers trace his balls. His hips thrust into your mouth, "fuck, sorry," but you squeeze his hip, attempting to shake your head, as your tongue traces the length of him.

You peer up at him with wide eyes, and what assuredly must be drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and he practically whines, his fingers lace through your hair, tugging you closer, “Oh, what are you doing to me?” his hips jerk again, forcing his tip to brush against your throat, and you choke, “Fuck,” he hisses, shaking his head, trying to tug you off, but you don’t let him, his voice begins to crack, “Baby— I’m not going to last much longer—” And your fingers squeeze around his balls, as you hollow out your cheeks to suck, to let him know it was okay — that you wanted this. He pulls your hair, the sharp pain making you moan long and hard against the heavy weight of his cock, “where—” a low grunt rumbles in his chest, “where do you want to—”

Your fingers splay over his thighs, doubling down as your tongue curls around his dick, before sucking again, hard. He groans your name, rough and extended on his tongue, as he cums, his thick release coating your mouth and throat, and you swallow every drop of it. It’s salty, and thick, and something undeniable so him. And you love way the taste of him lingers on your tongue. His breaths come in small pants, his head lolled back against the couch, as you press slow kisses to his thighs, enjoying how his muscles twitch under your touch.

You shift, your heat throbbing in the confines of your clothes, blood roaring in your ears as he finally looks back down at you — utterly and completely ruined. His hand finds yours, fingers slowly intertwining as he smiles at you. His chest still rises and falls, as he gently urges you back up. You squirm under his gaze and touch, hands dragging over your curves.

“Are you okay?” you bite back the sigh on your lips — still now, always concerned about you. You nod, licking your lips, as you squeeze your thighs, and his gaze flickers down, and his eyes become molten, “come here.” he rasps, voice thick and heady.

His fingers guide you as he has you turn, unzipping your dress, his breath stuttering as he sees your bare skin, swallowing, “No bra?” he asks, in quiet reverence, as his calloused fingers trace down your spine, shivering under his attention, “were you that sure you’d get lucky?” he teases, a ghost of a laugh in his words.

You look over your shoulder, smiling, “I never thought I’d get this lucky.”

“You stole my line,” he says, pressing a kiss to the small of your back, his nose brushing against it. You help him slip the dress from your shoulders and frame, falling to a crumpled heap on the floor. You turn, heat climbing up your neck, as you watch his eyes sweep over you, lingering at your panties — eyes darkening when they spotted the damp fabric. He pulls you into his lap again, and you both let out soft moans as your clothes pussy drags over his cock, “were you this turned on by sucking my cock?”

Your breath hitches, his filthy words making your cunt twitch, “Fuck, yes,” he pulls you into a kiss, groaning when he must taste himself on your lips, “Please, Aaron.” His fingers brush your warmth through your underwear, rubbing up against your clit through the fabric, “just take me to bed, please.”

He licks his lips, wordlessly nodding, “Are you sure?”

You kiss him in reply, your arms looping around his neck, as his hands dig into your ass, lifting you. He stumbles to the bedroom with you, nearly knocking down framed photos and an end table, before he reaches his bedroom. He fumbles with the doorknob, a strangled whimper falling from his lips as your teeth pull on his bottom lip, before throwing the door open. He growls, pressing you against the wall right inside the bedroom. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer as his hand teases your nipple, “Aaron,” you whine, and he only grins against your neck, sucking at the hollow of your neck, “not fair.”

“When has anything you’ve done ever been fair?” he mutters, voice utterly thick and sinful, as his mouth closed around a nipple, sucking, “nothing about you is fair.”

You arch your back into his touch, and you savor the way his dark eyes look up at you, like he can’t bear the thought to look away even for a second, “Aaron, please,”

“Tell me what you want,” he sucks the skin above your breast, his voice growing soft, “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

Your fingers find his chin, tipping his gaze back to yours, “I want you,”

Your lips meet again, sloppy, messy kisses, as your tongue tastes him, as he slowly lies you back on the bed. He immediately crawls on top of you, pressing butterfly kisses up your body, lighting every nerve ending on fire, until he finds his way back to your lips. Your hands guide his own to the waistband of your underwear, and his fingers roughly drag the impeding clothing article down your hips, before you kick it off unceremoniously.

Your breath stutters in your chest when you see him eye your body, now on full display, squirming underneath his intent gaze. His hand cups your face, “You’re beautiful,” he breaths, before leaning to press his lips to your inner thigh.

You pull him back up into another kiss, your fingers finding his way to his semi-hard cock, stroking it until he is ready, “Are you ready?” you ask, licking your lips, as he stares down at you, eyes lidded, “if you aren’t, we don’t have—”

“You know for a long time, I didn’t know what I wanted, but now, I know what I want,” he smiles softly, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “I want you.”

You blink away the tears in your eyes, a quick kiss to his lips, as he guides himself to you. You whine as his head brushes your cunt, “Aaron,” you swallow, and his hand finds yours, as he parts your folds with his cock.

Every part of you burns under his touch, as he pushes himself, inch by inch into you, and you both find each other’s gaze. Eyes glassy, you meet in a kiss — and all you can think of is him: his mouth moving against yours, his hands pressing you needlessly closer, and his cock now finally seated inside you.

“Aaron,” a high pitched moan you barely recognize bubbles up, and he replies with a growl, rumbling against you, “please, move.”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he pants, the expletive making you writhe against him, shaking his head, “I don’t know if I’ll last—”

You shake your head, cupping his cheek, “It doesn’t matter, just move.”

He presses a kiss to your lips, just as he begins to thrust, swallowing each other’s groans, your mouth falling away as you arch into him, “Aaron, I love you,” his fingers dig into your thigh, lifting it over his shoulder, your skin slapping together, his lips pressing a kiss to your knee, “fuck, you feel so good.”

He shakes his head, a choked grunt escaping his throat, “I needed you,” he whispers, as his hips begin to slow, “I needed you, because I was dying without you and I didn’t even know that I was.”

“Aaron,” his low grunts fill your ear as his hips take languid strokes, “I needed you too. I still do.”

He presses impossibly closer to you, as his fingers drift to your clit, “I need you to cum for me, sweetheart,” he swallows, slick sweat dripping down the hollow of his throat, “I need to feel you cum on my cock. Want to see you fall apart for me. Need you to fill you.”

His fingers rub at your clit, and you’re gone, his name a whisper on your lips, as your blood turns to lava, pleasure thrumming through every vessel, toes curling. You keen under him, as his hips stutter, before he finally fills you, languidly thrusting until he presses himself to you, fingers still thumbing your clit.

He buries his face in your neck, still twitching inside of you, taking solace in your slowing pants and in the simple rise and fall of each other’s chests. He eventually lifts his head, and your lips find each other, lazily exchanging chaste kisses, as your fingers curl against the small of his neck, as you smile up at him.

“Are you okay?” you ask, as your fingers trace his cheek and his lips catch them, pressing a kiss to each fingertip, sending a ribbon of warmth through your body.

“More than,” he murmurs, as he reluctantly pulls himself from you, as you whine in protest, “do you need anything?”

You hum, as you shift on the bed, before freezing, “A towel,” and he bites back his smile, but you catch it anyway, “this is your mess.”

“Our mess,” he corrects, “or did you forget you begging me to move?”

You scoff, “I was not begging,” and a smile pulls at his corners of his mouth, as he opens the bathroom door, throwing a look over his shoulder.

“You will be,” your eyes glint in the low light of the bedroom, as you lay back.

“I’ll be waiting,” he shakes his head, grabbing the towel, as he pauses with a smile.

He wasn’t just ready for sex with you. He was ready for everything. He was ready for a life. For a house. For a family, even. A small chuckle leaves his lips, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. A few years ago he didn’t think he would ever smile again, but because of you, he glances at the finger where his ring once was — he was ready for so much more.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagines #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch #hotch x reader #hotch x you #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 17

Hannibal teaches y/n a useful skill.

@dovahdokren @lov3vivian @deadman-inc-bikeshop

Trigger warnings: use of firearms, discussion of firearms, violence

“So where are we off to next?” You asked, following Will around the office. “Are we questioning this Rachel woman, or are we going straight to the church?”

Will sighed. “Jack and I are going to the church. I’m calling Hannibal to come pick you up.”

“What?” You spat in utter disbelief. “What the hell happened to taking him down together?”

“You’ve already been more help than we could ask for.” Will explained. “This is the end of the line for you. We--”

He cleared his throat and looked down. “I can’t bear to see you get hurt.”

“That’s sweet and everything, but,” You folded your arms. “You really think someone is going to hurt me in broad daylight in a megachurch?”

“Well, somebody stabbed you in broad daylight in a restaurant, and that person just happened to come from this megachurch.” Will rationalized. “So, yes. I wouldn’t say it’s out of the question.”

“So that’s it, you’re just going to pass me off to Hannibal?” You threw up your arms. “Look, I had enough of this growing up with divorced parents.”

“Angel,” Will soothed, running a gentle hand down your arm. “Please. I’m begging you, think on this for just a minute and try to see why I don’t want you on this particular excursion?”

You thought on it for a minute. “Churches do kind of trigger me.”

“I saw how tense you got when that woman said she’d kicked her daughter out of the house for dating a girl. I understand, dealing with people who remind you of Chase is going to trigger you.” Will whispered. “Have you even taken any time to work on healing?”

“I could say the same to you.” You disputed. “You killed a woman and then came face-to-face with her mother. Why aren’t you trying to work through that?”

“That’s different.” He blurted out. “That’s my job.”

“Sure.” You snipped. “I have to take time to work through my PTSD, but you don’t. Got it.”

“If you go home with Hannibal now, I promise I will...” He hesitated to finish the sentence. “I’ll work on my issues too. Cross my heart.”

“Oh, I will absolutely hold you to that.” You pointed at him. “And I’m telling Hannibal you said that.”

Will immediately regretted making that promise and it was obvious from his expression. “Please don’t.”

“I am absolutely going to do that.” You said, in a way in which he couldn’t tell if you were kidding or not.

Hannibal opened the passenger’s door for you and greeted you with a kiss. He could tell you were feeling off after only a few seconds.

“Why so sad, my indulgence?” He asked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Don’t tell me you enjoy Will’s company more than mine?”

“What? No.” You shook your head. “No way.”

“You can tell me what’s on your mind, love.” He assured you.

You sighed and rested your head on the window. “Will doesn’t want me to help on the investigation anymore.”

“I don’t see why he should.” Hannibal agreed. “You’re tracking down the man who tried to kill you, and he’s tracking down the man who tried to kill his lover. Both of you are far too close to the situation and your mental health will suffer for it. But, in the end, it’s Will’s job.”

“I know.” You conceded.

“That, and,” Hannibal continued. “Will is a trained professional under the supervision of other trained professionals. He’s far less likely to get hurt.”

“I get it.” You groaned and rolled your eyes. “At the end of the day, he’s the action hero and I’m the damsel in distress.”

“Darling,” Hannibal scolded. “You know our situation isn’t so black-and-white. You know the investigation couldn’t have worked without you.”

“I know.” You pouted. “I just wanted the final blow, y’know? I think I deserve to finish the job.”

Hannibal went quiet for a moment. When you came to a stoplight, he turned his gaze to you. “You want to be more proactive in your safety.”

“Would be nice.” You shrugged.

“I wasn’t asking.” Hannibal corrected. “You do want to be more proactive. It’s why you have a firearms license in your wallet and a handgun in your car. It’s also why you were looking up hunting equipment last night while you were on the phone with Freddie Lounds.”

You swallowed. Every word in the English language escaped you. He was right. You never saw the appeal of guns until you lived alone. Even though a "gun owner" was technically what you were, you didn't want to associate yourself with the jingoistic, hyper-masculine culture affixed to the term. You were just a woman who kept a gun in her car and had all the proper licensing and registration for it. Nothing wrong with that. So why did it have you feeling so defensive?

You lowered your head. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“Lying about Freddie Lounds.” You finished. “I don’t know why I felt the need to lie about that, in hindsight-”

“I understand.” Hannibal cut you off. “You were just doing what you felt needed to be done. Will would have done the same.”

He was right again.

“Ambitious of you to select a shotgun as your weapon of choice.” Hannibal observed. “At the risk of sounding like a chauvinist, I have to ask. Do you know how to use one?”

“No.” You admitted. “It was just a power fantasy, I guess. All I know is that you can blast a guy’s head off with one.”

Without a word, Hannibal took an abrupt turn.

“Isn’t your place that way?” You asked, pointing in the opposite direction.

“Do you have your license on you now?” He asked.

“Of course I do, why?”

“Because we’re going to make your power fantasy a reality.” He answered.

Soon enough, you pulled up to a large hunting store with a shooting range attached.

“Go in and pick out something you like.” Hannibal instructed, reaching for his wallet. “I’ll be waiting for you at the range and I can teach you how to use it.”

He offered you one of his shiny metal credit cards. When you didn’t immediately take it, he pushed it closer to you.

“I just got a thousand dollars from Freddie Lounds.” You pushed his hand away. “I can pay for it.”

“You deserve something much nicer than only a thousand dollars can buy you.” Hannibal’s voice hardened.

“So then I’ll buy something more than a thousand dollars and use your credit card to make up the difference.” You offered.

“No.” Hannibal said, sternly. “I will buy you a nice gun and plenty of ammo, and you will save your thousand dollars for when you open your own restaurant.”

“How did you-” You objected.

He cut you off. “Will isn’t very good at keeping secrets, dear. Take it.”

You laughed uncomfortably. “Hannibal, if you don’t put that credit card away I will bite your finger off.”

His thin lips curled into a cunning smile. He offered you his other hand. “Bite away, darling.”

You wordlessly snatched the card from his hand.

“Oh, pity.” Hannibal feigned disappointment. “Did I call your bluff?”

You tucked the card away in your pocket. You leaned in as if you were going to give him a kiss on the cheek, but playfully nipped at his earlobe.

"Remind me to give you a little special attention when the lesson is up." He whispered, his hand clutching your arm.

You made sure to walk away slowly, rolling your hips with every step.

You entered the store, feeling overwhelmed and significantly less confident than you did while shopping for guns online.

An employee approached you. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever sexist comment he was about to hurl at you. But somebody must have taught this particular associate that being a misogynist prick doesn't sell guns.

"Anything I can help you find, ma'am?"

Your mouth ran before your brain. "I'd like to buy a gun, please."

"Well, you've come to the right place." The employee smiled. "What kind of gun are you looking for?"

"A shotgun." You corrected.

"Well, we have plenty of makes and models to choose from." He clapped his hands together and led you to a wall lined with shotguns. "Any specifics in mind?"

"I guess I just want something simple enough to use." You scratched the back of your head. "My boyfriend is taking me skeet shooting this weekend so I don't have time to learn all the complicated mechanics."

"So skeet?" The man put his hands down on the counter and looked deep in thought. He turned around and pulled one off the shelf. "I'd recommend this CZ over-under. It's a good place to start."

He offered it to you. Your eyes widened and your first instinct was to refuse.

He looked at you with confusion. "How are you gonna shoot anything if you don't hold it?"

You shook off your nerves and took the gun in your hands. It was a little heavy, and tilted near the stock. You looked at it as if it were a beautiful but deadly venomous tropical snake.

"Over-under's are the working man's shotgun." The employee said. "Or, woman, as it were."

You held it up to your shoulder like you saw in movies and felt a strange rush of exhilaration pulsing through your body.

"It's nice, right?" He asked. "And you can get to the trigger okay?"

"I'll take it." You said. "And some bullets, please."

"Now we're cooking with gas." He answered, a big smile on his face. "Let's get you rung up."

The fact that he didn't even stop to notice that the name on your license didn't match the name on the credit card only emphasized your country's need for stricter gun control laws. Even if the lack of such laws benefitted you in that moment, the ease of the process killed you a little.

The total came up to just under a thousand dollars. You couldn't bring yourself to spend more than you planned to, even if it was Hannibal's treat. You already felt weird about using Hannibal's money, let alone so much of it.

The employee saw you out with a friendly "happy skeeting" and you set off to meet Hannibal at the range.

"There you are, love." He greeted you. He had removed his suit coat and tie, and rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.

For a split second, you completely forgot about the gun and were overtaken by the need to fuck him. You quickly regained control of yourself. "Yeah. I found something."

"I should hope so." He said, beckoning to you from the stall. "Come now. Let me show you what to do."

You stood in front of the booth, ears and eyes protected. At the end of the long booth was a paper target. Hannibal positioned himself behind you. He took your hand in his and guided it to the stock wrist.

"Wrap your fingers around here, like this." He instructed, his dark, accented voice shaking you to your core. "Now extend your finger to reach the trigger. Yes, that's it."

"Now place your other hand on the fore-end and hold the end of the stock against your shoulder."

The way he shaped your body, positioned your limbs felt almost alarmingly natural. He wasn't just indulging your power fantasy, he was directing it.

"Cheek against the stock, love." He instructed. "The gun is an extention of you. You must hold it firmly and give it support. You move with it, it moves with you."

He rummaged through the shopping bag and pulled out a package of shells. "Are you ready to shoot it, darling?"

"I think I should probably load it first." You said, nervously.

"Well that should take us no time at all." Hannibal approached with two 12 gauge shotshells. "Go ahead and engage the break lever right at the edge of the barrel."

When the gun suddenly bent in half, your first thought was that you'd broken it. Hannibal handed you the two shells and watched you timidly slide one into each barrel.

You felt yourself shaking and your palms were damp with sweat. You swallowed. "I don't know if I can do this."

"Were you afraid the first time you drove a car?" Hannibal raised an eyebrow.

"Cripplingly." You nodded. "I was so scared I didn't take my foot off the brake the whole time."

"But now driving comes just as naturally to you as walking." Hannibal smiled comfortingly. He placed his hands over yours and returned you to the shooting position. On one side, the cold stock rested against your cheekbone. On the other, Hannibal's hot breath grazed against your skin. "It just takes some getting used to."

Your finger squeezed the trigger and the massive projectile exploded from the gun. The stock pushed back into your shoulder, making you stumble backwards into Hannibal.

"Holy shit!" You exclaimed. "That's got some serious recoil. Is it supposed to do that?"

Hannibal chuckled and took a step back, giving you a little space. "Yes, darling. Now go ahead and fire off the next shot."

Your eyes widened. "Okay."

"Remember, you move with the gun, you don't fight the gun." He instructed. "It's more afraid of you than you are of it."

You squeezed the trigger again, this time fully expecting the recoil. The shot fired, and this time it hit the target.

You hopped in delight. "Holy shit I actually got one!"

"All it takes is a little getting used to." Hannibal stroked your hair. "Now unload the shotgun shells and let's go again."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #the sommelier #hannibal x you x will #hannigram x reader #will graham #hannigram x you #will graham x you #will graham x reader #tw guns #tw violence

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queen-rowenas · 3 years

Text

when the party’s over - 1k words, destiel, inspired by this post by @acklesy, not a sequel to my first birthday fic

by request for @mylovelydame21 @redlineriot @castielle-deanna @multi-fandom-dark-lord @forgottenworkinprogress ily <3

Dean is lounging on the couch in his Dean Cave, just on the brink of dozing off, a plate with a slice of cake balanced on his stomach and a party hat sitting lopsided on his head. The birthday pie is all gone. He tore through that first.

Most of the guests have either left by now or taken up rooms in the bunker. Charlie and Stevie went back to a hunt that came up. Garth and his family went back home earlier in the afternoon even though little Cas seemed to have imprinted on big Cas. Rowena had returned to hell, and Jack had returned to heaven. Jody and Donna and the girls were taking up an entire hall of the bunker, having turned in early for their drive in the morning. Bobby is spending the night, too.

Dean smiles. Best birthday party ever.

One of the only real birthday parties he’s ever had, if he’s being honest. But Mrs. Butters could eat her heart out because this one beat any party she could have thrown. This one had his family, his friends. He couldn’t have asked for more.

Someone presses a kiss to the top of his head, and Dean leans back into the touch, reaching up to take Cas’s hand.

He whines when Cas hands him a bottle. “This isn’t beer.”

“No, it’s water,” Cas says, completely unmoved by Dean’s pout as he settles beside him.

Dean presses into his side. “I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you,” Cas says with a small smile, “but this morning you said you wanted to be coherent today and avoid any potential hangovers.”

“Well, maybe morning-me was dumb.” Dean shuffles in closer, shoving his face into the fabric of Cas’s shoulder.

“Morning-you told me that he loved me. Do you think he was wrong about that?”

“No, that part was right,” Dean says, his voice muffled by the trench coat.

He closes his eyes and breathes him in, feels the warmth of Cas leaning into him, the weight of his hand resting on Dean’s knee. And it’s completely unfair how happy he is in this moment.

Although maybe the point is that it is fair.

“How’s your cake?”

Dean lifts his head. “I mean, it’s not pie, but it’s still pretty good.” He sits up and offers a forkful to Cas. “Wanna try some?”

“I thought you said your birthday had a no-sharing policy.”

“I’ll make an exception for you.”

Cas regards the fork with almost a wary look before leaning down to take it in his mouth. And it really wasn’t supposed to be like this. Dean’s plan was to have Cas try a piece and watch his nose wrinkle and hear him say something dumb and cute about molecules.

But now Dean’s staring, watching the line of his mouth, the work of his jaw, his throat. His face suddenly feels hot. Oblivious to Dean’s world slowly imploding, Cas frowns in the most serious consideration. “I can imagine why humans would enjoy it. In my time as a human, I came to appreciate cake.”

“Maybe you need to try another bite.” Dean’s voice cracks as he all but throws another forkful at Cas’s face. This one has more icing, and Dean’s brain snaps into focus with the best idea he’s ever had in his 42 years of life.

This time, when Cas goes for the bite, Dean moves the fork, catching some icing on his cheek

“Whoops.” Dean grins, already leaning in. “Let me get that for you.” And he presses his lips on the spot to clean it.

Cas jerks his head to look at him, and Dean leans back, watching the angel with a grin. He absently licks his lips. Blue eyes track the motion.

“You missed.” Cas’s voice is steady, but his eyes glance down to Dean’s mouth, and he clears his throat. “That was nowhere near my mouth.”

And Dean likes to think he’s a pretty suave guy. He has a history that would support it. But for a second, all he can do is gape like an idiot.

He closes his mouth. He opens it again. “Right!” he says, a little too loud and a little too hoarse, “My bad. Let me just...”

He fumbles to get more cake on the fork, nearly dropping the plate, before twisting around to face Cas fully and lift the fork to his mouth. When Cas leans in, Dean moves it just enough to get some on the corner of his lip.

Dean doesn’t even go for any pretense of guilt. He just goes in for a peck, sneaking in a quick flick of the tongue.

He grins, but before he can revel in his little game, Cas is leaning towards the plate, forgoing the fork and swiping some icing on his finger. And Dean’s mouth goes dry.

And the angel has the audacity to smile, his finger hovering in front of Dean’s face, the faintest glint in his eye. Dean’s mouth opens on its own, and he just watches Cas watch him as the angel’s finger runs over his bottom lip.

Before Dean can close his mouth, Cas takes his face in his hands and kisses him. The icing slips inside and he chases it, and Dean shudders, reaching up to cling to his wrists.

Some distant and slightly more coherent part of his mind thinks this might be the best cake he’s ever had.

“Really, guys? Come on.”

Dean presses one last kiss to Cas’s lips before glaring over his shoulder to look at his brother in the doorway. “It’s my birthday.”

“It’s past midnight. It’s not your birthday anymore.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbles, grabbing Cas’s hand and dragging him off of the couch, “Come on, babe.”

He makes sure to grab the plate as they leave.

— tag list (ask to be added or removed)

@castiel-for-lunch @castiel-is-a-cat @castielsbeeslippers @ccstiel @dancerdovegirl @donvex @dstiel @ensignabby @expectingtofly @feraladoration @fireghost-x @galaxies-of-the-heart @galaxycastiel @goldensigh @good-things-do-happen-dean @himitsubana @ialwaysordericedcoffee @lalisfandoms @lateral-org @lilith-wnchstr @llamasdumpsterfire @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @mishha @nightandwine @okamigamer1 @ragingdeansexual @rainbowscas @somerandomfucking-geek @starsdahb @theangelwiththewormstache @top13zepptraxx @van-dynex @unsolvednatural @winchester-novak

#destiel #fic #destiel ficlet #deancas fanfic #supernatural #happy birthday dean winchester #established relationship #mine*#emmawrites*

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